Chapter Text
Footsteps echoed against the damp pavement, pointed in the direction of the bar on the way home from his work. Mana had just finished his day of modeling, which had been significantly more stressful than usual. The make-up artist who had been assigned to him today had proven herself unworthy of touching the god himself, by complaining constantly and refusing to take suggestions that would have made the process much smoother. Her uncompromising nature had worn away at Mana’s patience during the nine hours he had spent preparing to advertise his new collection of dresses for Moitie. When the shooting had finally finished, he didn’t even bother to change or remove his makeup before hurrying out the door, not forgetting to throw a glare in the direction of that bitch who had ruined his day.
That was the reason he was going to the bar, he needed something to calm down. Mana rarely drank, but this seemed like a deserving occasion for one or two. Sitting down at the bar in a chair that felt like it would collapse any second, he ordered something without much thinking and waited for it to arrive. The longer he sat thinking, the more annoyed he got. He daydreamed vaguely about the things he would do for revenge, but decided against it. He wanted to prove he was better than her, and seeming like he didn’t care would irk her the most. His drink arrived, and he sipped it slowly while reading the room.
A few men were staring at him, and he looked them right in the eyes before moving on to observe the rest of the space. Nothing else caught his attention, so he turned around and focused on his drink. He wanted to go home and sleep as soon as possible. As he took the last sips, one of the men from earlier approached him from the side, sitting down next to him.
“Get the lady another drink, I’ll pay”, the man said, probably trying to be impressive and charming. Mana didn’t care. He did care about the man thinking he was a woman, because that meant a whole lot more work from him.
“Oh no, that’s fine! I was actually about to leave,” Mana said in a soft, breathy voice, trying to not let the man catch on that he was most definitely not a lady. He didn’t even want to think about the problems that would cause. He picked up his bag delicately with his lacey gloves, handing a few bills to the bartender and exiting quickly. He walked home at a fast pace, ducking into alleys and side streets so it would be ten instead of fifteen minutes to get there.
As soon as he heard the footsteps behind him, he began to run. His new platforms proved unhelpful in his attempt to flee, he realized as a hand attempted to cover his mouth, an arm trying to wrap around his waist at the same time. Mana kept walking, moving as far away as possible.
“I didn’t like the way you walked out on me, baby girl. Don’t you wanna hang out? I'm a cool guy!”
Shit. It was the man from the bar. Mana wished he would just give up and leave him the fuck alone.
“No, actually it was pretty obvious I didn't want to hang out, in my opinion.” He spit out the response.
The man reached towards him again, getting closer. Out of instinct, Mana slapped his hand.
"Why don't you like me? I like you! You're such a pretty girl!"
“Actually, I’m a fucking guy.”
The man's expression changed, looking first sad and then angry. He put up his hands like he was preparing to fight. Based on his shoes, Mana knew that he had no choice but to find some way to fight him off. The man lunged towards him, and the threatened one reacted automatically, pushing him as hard as he could into the wall. The man’s head hit it forcefully, and he slumped down onto the pavement, no longer moving.
Mana stomped a couple times on him, just to see if he would respond. He stomped a few more times after that, just for good measure. Leaning down, he felt the man’s pulse; Nothing. He must be dead. Thank goodness.
Reaching into his pockets, he found a phone and wallet. According to the small license card, the man’s name was Oshiro Gakuto. A better name would have been creepy asshole. Mana grabbed the small amount of money from the wallet, and started to finally walk home. He wasn’t worried about getting caught, his gloves should have prevented much DNA from being left behind on the body. He didn’t mind killing someone either, it was easier than he thought. The main problem was that his day was made worse by getting held up by that awful man. All he wanted was a peaceful drink, and then a calm walk home.
“I fucking hate men,” Mana whispered to himself.