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“Listen, Momota-chan, you know me.”
“I sure fucking do.”
“And you know I’m no sucker, so here’s how this is going to go down.”
“Ouma.”
“You’re gonna give me what I want, and then I’ll pay up after. Just to make sure I get my money’s worth, first.”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Momota pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because you’re broke, dumbass.”
Ouma huffs, placing his hands on his hips. “I am not.”
“Yeah, you are,” Momota says. “I’ve known for years that you spend all your money on candy and spray paint the first chance you get.”
Ouma gasps. “How dare you accuse me of reckless spending! And in my own school, too! The horror, humanity, the—”
“I saw you do it, dude,” Momota says. “You tripped me in the aisle of the convenience store yesterday, and then ran away giggling like a manic.”
Ouma places a finger on his chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Are you sure it was me? That doesn’t sound like something I would do, even if it is hilarious…”
“The point is,” he says, “I know you don’t have any money, so go bother someone else.”
“Why?” Ouma says. “It’s not like you have any other customers. Really, I have to wonder what Akamatsu-chan was thinking. Doesn’t she know people who run kissing booths have to be attractive?”
Momota squawks. “Wha—I’m attractive! You know, I got like a whole glamorous celebrity vibe thing going on!”
“Uh-huh.”
“I do!” Momota protests. “And I bet you’re just jealous! You wish you could look half as good as me!”
Ouma examines his nails. “You caught me. Everyday I sit around wondering how I could make myself look like even more of a clown, and you are a constant source of inspiration, let me tell yo—”
Momota throws his hands in the air. “Then why the fuck are you here!? Fuck off if you think I’m that ugly!”
“Aw, did I hurt Momota-chan’s feelings?” Ouma asks. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”
Momota gives him a withering look. “I want you to go away.”
“But I want to have fun at the culture festival with my beloved Momota-chan,” Ouma whines. “And you won’t pay any attention to me just because I’m poor.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Momota says. “That’s what you do when you’re trying to sell shit.”
“So you’d pay attention to me if I had money?” Ouma asks.
Momota raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? That’s what I said in the first place.”
“I know, I just wanted to confirm that you were only interested in men with money,” Ouma says. “But that’s okay. I have always wanted to be a sugar daddy.”
“Die.”
“If I wanted to be told that I’d go back to Harumaki-chan’s booth,” Ouma says. “She said it like five hundred times when she kicked me out.”
“Yeah, I know,” Momota says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He fiddles with it for a moment before turning the screen to Ouma. “She texted me to complain about how you were trying to use your shoes to catch goldfish.”
Ouma rocks on his heels. “So that’s why you didn’t ask me why I’m barefoot. And here I thought you just didn’t have any interest in my personal life. Also fun fact! Harumaki-chan actually kicked me out because I didn’t pay. The shoe thing was just incidental.”
“They don’t give you a net if you don’t pay, dumbass,” Momota says.
“You know, Momota-chan, I’m starting to think the world is far too obsessed with money,” Ouma says. “Honestly, it breaks my heart. What happened to kindness for your fellow man?”
Momota lets out a long, exasperated sigh that makes Ouma giggle. “Listen, Ouma, I don’t know what the hell you want me to tell you. Because I know if I tell you to come back when you get money, you’re gonna go pickpocket someone.”
“Aw, you know me so well,” Ouma says. “Are you sure you don’t have a crush on me?”
“So,” Momota says. “I’m gonna tell you to fuck off and behave yourself.”
“You know what, Momota-chan,” Ouma says. “I’m going to accept your challenge.”
“You… are? Seriously?”
“I already stole the schedule from Akamatsu-chan, so I know you’ve got an hour left on your shift. And that means you better wait for me and not try to trade with Amami-chan, even if he is way more attractive than you.”
Momota makes a series of disjointed annoyed noises as he struggles to figure out which part of Ouma’s statement to address first. He settles on potentially the worst one. “Then why the hell are you bothering me instead of Amami!?”
Ouma winks. “I’ll tell you when I come back from my epic journey. Kiss for the road?”
“Leave.”
“So demanding!”
-
“Amami-chan, you feel like helping someone in need today, right?”
Amami raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t I already buy you cotton candy, like, fifteen minutes ago? If you eat too many sweets too fast, you’re going to get sick.”
“First, that is a lie, and I will not tolerate it,” Ouma says. “Second, I’ve moved on to bigger and better things than candy. Right now I’m just in the market for some cold hard cash.”
“Sorry, I gave the last of my pocket change to Kiibo-kun,” he says. “He kept breaking the nets on the goldfish catching game and seemed really broken up about it. So, I decided I’d—”
“Boo, Kiiboy ruins everything.”
-
There are stars in Kiibo’s electronic eyes as he cradles the small fish bowl Tojo had provided at request in his hands.
He’s so intent on it that he doesn’t even look up when Ouma drawls, “Kiiiiiiboy.”
“Ouma-kun, you know that is not my na—”
“So Amami-chan let me in on the fact that you owe me eight million yen,” he says. “But since I’m generous, I’ll only collect five hundred for right now.”
Kiibo glances up at him warily. “I do not recall ever borrowing money from you. In fact, I believe the only memories I have recorded involving you and money are ones of Tojo-san scolding you for frivolous purcha—”
“Kiiboy, as you just blew all of dear, naïve Amami-chan’s money on a goldfish, I don’t think you have a right to criticize my saving habits that your dumb robot brain obviously doesn’t understand anyway. So money pleeeeeease.”
Kiibo frowns at the hand held out to him. “Even if it was true that I was in debt to you, I do not have any money on my person.” He looks back to his goldfish. “And I am also very busy right now.”
Ouma scowls at this fish as it flicks its tail. “In the night I am going to steal your stupid fish and turn it against you. Besides, fish can’t love robots anyway.”
“Wha—” Ouma’s already skipping away by the time Kiibo jerks his head towards him. To the goldfish, he says, “That is just a robophobic lie, right?”
The goldfish flicks its tail.
-
Ouma’s next attempts meet just as much success.
“Get your fucking hand out of my pocket you little pervert!”
“Do you want to die?”
“Ouma-kun, the last time I loaned you money, you paid me back with a Mother’s Day card. So my answer is a hard no. Also where did your shoes go?”
The discovery that Gonta’s wallet had no money, but was in fact filled with spiders—and the equally upsetting fact that no one wanted to buy said spiders—brought Ouma back to Momota’s booth with heavy steps.
Ouma announces his presence with a heavy sigh even as Momota ignores him in favor of talking to a customer. Ouma sighs louder. And louder. And—
“Ouma, I can hear you.”
“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?”
Momota rolls his eyes before he turns back to the customer—a rather nervous looking reserve course girl. Ouma glances across the way to see what he assumes are a few of her friends giggling together. Momota turns on the charm as he speaks to her. “Sorry about him. But anyway, it looks like you have enough.”
Ouma watches with passive eyes as Momota leans forward to give her a quick peck on the cheek. The girl blushes wildly at she glances back at her friends. Momota says, “Thanks for coming! Tell your friends!”
She gives him a jerky nod before hurrying away. Ouma hears squeals behinds him as he leans his elbows on the counter separating him from Momota. “Congrats on your first customer,” Ouma says. “Only took what? Five hours?”
Momota doesn’t bother looking up at him, busy filing away the money he just earned. “Funny enough, lots of people actually come by when you’re not making a scene.”
“Momota-chan, you know I hate liars,” Ouma says. “So what was that number one? Number two? Number negative seven?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“And why not? Are you really that embarrassed about how unpopular you are?”
“No,” Momota finally meets his eyes, and Ouma doesn’t like the smirk he’s wearing one bit. “I just know you’ll get jealous if I tell you.”
“Wow, I always knew you were full of yourself, but I’ll have you know I care less about how many people you’ve put your gross mouth on than I do about Kiiboy’s dumb fish I’m going to steal.”
Momota leans forward. Ouma interprets moving away as a challenge, and, thus, remains firmly rooted in place. “Then why do you want to know so badly?”
“Because I’m curious how many people in this school are dumb enough to give you money for a kiss that pathetic. Seriously, is that all you get?” Ouma asks. “What a rip off.”
Momota snorts. “Well what do you expect? This job’s weird enough as it is. Also, you’re totally jealous.”
“I already told you I’m not like five seconds ago. Geeze, just how much empty space do you have in that head of yours?”
“If you weren’t jealous, then you wouldn’t care how I kiss people.”
“I just wanted to know if there’s a price scale,” Ouma says. “Like what do I get if I pay double?”
“The same thing twice,” Momota says. “I had a few people do that already.” Even though Ouma is careful to not a single muscle in his smile twitch out of place, Momota still follows his comment up with, “dude, I was joking, but are you sure you’re not actually jealous? You’re kind of freaking me out.”
Ouma takes another moment to mentally go over the finer details of his expression as he tilts his head. “Duh. Why would I lie about something like that? You know I—”
“You hate lies, yeah, whatever.”
“Do you know how rude it is to interrupt people?”
Momota laughs. “As if you don’t do it all the fucking time. But seriously, I knew you were going to say that. You’re getting to be pretty predictable.”
Ouma’s eyebrows shoot up. “How dare—”
“I accuse you of not being the embodiment of chaos or something, right?” Momota finishes, leaning even farther forward. “You said it yourself earlier: I know you too well.” Ouma opens his mouth to respond, but Momota beats him to it. “And no, it’s not because I have a fucking crush on you.”
Ouma feels the corners of his smile threatening to curve downwards. He retreats to examining his nails. “I think you’re overestimating yourself, as per usual. Being a man of mystery is kind of my thing, Momota-chan.”
“Then surprise me,” he says. “Did you actually manage to get enough money to pay?”
“No because I was a good boy and didn’t rob anyone.”
Momota blinks at him then goes right back to his obnoxious grin. “So you’re saying you did exactly what I told you to.”
Admitting that his attempts at pick-pocketing their classmates had ended in failure was somehow even less preferable than going along with Momota’s gloating. “Well you have to admit that’s pretty surprising for me. And besides,” Ouma returns to resting his head on a propped up elbow. “You have no right to say I’m predictable when you’re the least surprising person I have ever—”
Momota’s face is warm. His mouth is warm. His lips on Ouma’s cheek are warm. Ouma’s ears are ringing. Momota’s phone is also ringing, and he pulls away, still grinning ear to ear to turn off its timer. “You were saying?”
Ouma knows his face is probably a few shades redder than it should be, but he keeps his voice nonchalant as he responds, “Oh what, so you only give it away for free to spite me? How cruel can you be?”
“Nah, I did it because I was off the clock,” he answers. “See, look. Amami’s headed this way.”
Sure enough Amami is only a few strides down the crowded hall away from them and waves back in greeting when Momota raises an arm to get his attention. “Hey,” Amami greets them. “Oh, Ouma-kun, do you have a fever? You’re looking a little red.”
“How did you know?” Ouma gasps. “I am sick of Momota-chan and his ugly face!”
Momota laughs. “Nah, he’s just embarrassed because he has a crush on me.”
“Ah, I see,” Amami replies. “That is embarrassing. I did find a little extra money in my jacket pocket after you asked, though. Here,” he holds out an exceptionally wadded handful of cash towards Ouma. “I think it should be enough. Momota-kun, would you mind taking one more customer?”
“Oh, I already—
“Aw, Amami-chan, I knew you’d come through for me!” Ouma says, happily taking the money.
Momota shoots him a questioning look before shrugging. “Eh, whatever. I guess you just wanna be a repeat cust—”
“Say, Momota-chan,” Ouma says, pulling out a wallet. “Do you really believe I can’t surprise you anymore?”
“Yeah, I think I got you down.”
“I see, I see… then—!”
He throws Gonta’s wallet up in one fluid motion, and Momota’s eyes widen in horror in the brief second before the spiders inside begin to fall out. Ouma shouts, “How’s that for shaking things up!?”
Momota screams. Amami’s less than thrilled about the spider fight they engage in once Momota gets his wits together enough to gather up a handful of the little creatures to throw back at Ouma. Though at the same time, he thinks as he casually sets up shop, he saw an ending like this coming from a mile away.