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When Kunikida finally makes it to the supermarket, most of the discounted goods have long been sold.
The detective runs a tired hand through disheveled blonde hair as he looks at his grocery list. This is certainly not an ideal situation, but he will have to make do. Can’t exactly predict when Yokohama criminals would show up and throw a wrench (or several) in one’s plans, after all.
Kunikida methodically collects each item in his list, suppressing his sighs of disappointment whenever something is no longer on sale. He will have to readjust his budget for the month later. His hands itch for his pen and notebook as he closes in on the eggs section – the last thing he’s supposed to buy.
There is exactly one carton of discounted eggs left.
Eyes gleaming with determination, Kunikida hurries over, one hand already reaching out, fully prepared to snatch the eggs before someone else can take them from him. He may be willing to sacrifice himself on the field for his colleagues and friends, but sales are an entirely different matter. He has accepted defeat on so many items today, and he absolutely will not give up on this one win now.
His pale hand brushes against a tanned one as they both land on the innocent carton.
Kunikida looks up, mouth already opening to (politely) ask whoever standing beside him to hand over the eggs when he realizes it’s not a stranger at all.
Golden eyes meet sunset red as the blonde detective takes in the sight of Oda Sakunosuke, the Port Mafia boss’s bodyguard, the rumored “mafioso who never kills,” second in command only to one of the most terrifying men in Yokohama that he has ever met, shopping for groceries in plain civilian clothes.
One side of Oda’s bangs is pinned neatly behind his ears by an array of colorful hairclips. He is wearing a pink apron over a striped black shirt, faded army green pants and cheap brown shoes. Hello Kitty waves at Kunikida from the apron.
The mafioso looks, for all intents and purposes, just like any other ordinary family man on the streets.
Kunikida is too busy gaping to notice Oda has already pushed the carton of eggs onto his hand.
“Wait!” The blonde manages to stammer out as the other man starts to walk away. Oda turns around and tilts his head slightly as he waits for Kunikida to actually produce intelligible human speech.
“Yes?”
“You are— Dazai Osamu’s bodyguard. Oda… Oda Sakunosuke.”
“Yes.” Oda blinks at him, calm and patient like he has all the time in the world. Like he isn’t afraid of Kunikida calling him out for being a mafia member in the open.
“And you—” Kunikida cuts himself off, having just now acknowledged the presence of the discounted eggs in his hand. “…You let me have them?”
“…Yes. Should I not have?”
Just when the detective is about to reply, a flash of blue slams into Oda, followed by four other small shapes.
Kids, Kunikida realizes. Those are kids.
Before he can consider whipping out his pen and notebook in case the (decidedly dangerous) man before him attacks the children, they form a circle around Oda and start chatting animatedly. The tallest boy turns around to face Kunikida, then promptly points a finger at him.
“Odasaku, is he one of your mafia friends? Do I get to fight him?”
“I’m not—”
“Mister, you are really tall.” The only (and smallest) girl in the group wanders over and stares up at Kunikida with huge brown eyes. “I have never seen someone as tall as Odasaku-san before. Do you give piggy back rides?”
“Thank you, but uh—”
Chaos ensues. He is asked questions after questions with no time to fully answer. It is not until Oda pulls the kids back to his side and tells them, in a well-practiced strict voice, to stop crowding the “nice detective” that Kunikida gets a much-needed break.
“Sorry, Kunikida-san. My kids are a little… excitable.” Oda bows slightly to him, expression apologetic as he tries his best to reign in the children. “They rarely get to go out with me. You know how it is.”
Kunikida doesn’t, actually, but he nods anyway.
“They are your kids?”
“I adopted them. Their parents passed away during the Dragon Head’s Rush incident.”
Kunikida remembers. Some of his old students had also lost their families during that dark time.
He cannot help but think it’s kind of incredible to see a mafioso adopting little children so readily. The kids clearly love Oda, and he loves them right back. It’s evident in the gentleness of his small smile.
Kunikida’s traitorous heart skips a beat.
He looks at the carton of eggs in his hand, and doesn’t hesitate to put it neatly inside Oda’s cart.
“Kunikida-san?” Even the redhead’s slightly befuddled expression is, for lack of a better word, cute. Kunikida might as well have a heart attack right here in the middle of the supermarket. And then Oda will have to perform CPR on him.
“You and the children can have them.”
And there it is again. The small smile that sits so perfectly on the mafioso’s thin lips, betraying a tenderness that Kunikida rarely sees even among his own coworkers.
He is supposed to be home ten minutes and thirty five seconds ago. But maybe, just maybe, it’s worth it to deviate from his schedule this time.