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Shinobu walks down the street with a trudge in his step. It was the day of his sister’s rehearsal dinner, and the boy wasn’t fond of such hoity-toity events. What sort of teenager would want to watch his sister act sappy for hours on end?
He was going to be late. Not that it really mattered— but he still takes a detour. A quick pass through an alleyway would take minutes off his travel.
Yes… minutes… Or perhaps add minutes onto it, plus a few losses. He is grabbed from behind and pushed up against a wall. Two men, obviously not of economic power, wear toothy grins. ‘How funny,’ he thinks, ‘An old-school shakedown.’ Despite the danger, his pride was too grand to keep him from fighting back. “What-!” he shoves away the man, baring his teeth, “What the hell!”
His partner snickers. They both had some size on him, yet the little thing clearly had a temper.
“Let me go, you idiots! I’ve got somewhere to be!!” He kicks his legs around with an upturned nose. A true quintessential rich boy.
“Al—right, that’s enough,” the bearded one goes, “Just hand over your wallet and he’ll let you go scotch-free kid.”
“H-Huh!?! No way!” Yes, temper he’s got.
“I see.” He grasps his shirt, nearly lifting him with just a hand. When he raises a fist, the fear begins. Shinobu gasps and shuts his eyes, turning his head away. The mugger never wanted to hurt a kid so bad in his life. “How ‘bout now?”
Yet, the boy can’t bring himself to back down. “Whatever, you loser.”
An ear-ringing punch is delivered to his cheek; it would bruise well surely. The mugger snickers, drawing a knife from his back pocket. This was the fun part. “You wanna give it up?”
He grunts, blowing the bleached hair away from his face. He looked like an underslept toddler, who was he trying to intimidate? “...Go to hell.”
The partner gets in on it as well this time, jabbing him straight in the stomach. The kid must’ve felt it this time; he keeled over. Kicks pummel his legs and he tumbles over just like that. Kids with money never had to worry about strength.
“You wanna give it up now, kid? Do ya!?” It wasn’t even about the money at this point. He served as a stress reliever. The knife is held to his cheek, but it has already slipped. A small gash ticks his pretty-boy face. The partner reaches around Shinobu, taking his wallet from the back pocket. “You don’t get a choice now.” And with a final few kicks to his stomach, they leave.
Shinobu exhales, touches his cheek. Blood seeps through the lines in his skin, his uniform. He would be late for dinner. Not that it mattered.