Chapter Text
Existence was a curse.
Nothing in Ayame’s life had ever threatened to dispute this very obvious fact he had known from his earliest memory. Turning into an animal was not ideal but to turn into an animal that very few regarded fondly was just that much more motivation on his part to keep it a secret. He kept his head down by being as boisterous, unconventional, and energetic as possible throughout his school career to balance out the overly serious Hitori and the too flirtatious Shigure and that worked–by the time he graduated it was such a staple part of him that to shed the persona was to play a part that was unfamiliar and took more energy to uphold than his carefree doppelganger. So he kept it tightly coiled unless a dire situation needed a more serious mood and Tori didn’t happen to be around to share pragmatism.
A skin that he never shed. And he was happy with his life.
As happy as you could be while continuously hyper aware of anyone of the opposite sex in your vicinity, knowing you are part of the reason your little brother has major trust and abandonment issues, and living with a curse for the rest of your life and the best way to deal with that is to push down any pesky dismal thoughts to the deepest recess of your mind to try to live day to day without a semblance of the crippling depression and hopelessness that looms at every moment.
He was happy.
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He put the paper down to study the quaint woman before him. She was young–he guessed only a few years younger than himself. Bright eyes framed behind oval glasses, her mouth curled into a slight, polite smile as she waited for his attention that widened when he met her gaze.
His hand propped under his chin, “How long have you been in Tokyo?” A recent heat wave hampered his usual overbearing enthusiasm. Perhaps it was the best time to conduct a job interview with little risk of scaring potential employees with over exuberance.
“I just moved here a few months ago,” she said, “I needed a change of scenery.” She paused, “and…maybe a place that would be more accepting of my interests.”
He glanced down at the resume; nothing seemed out of the ordinary under her jobs or hobbies.
“What interests?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her cheeks warmed and she glanced to the side briefly, “I must confess I’ve never told anyone outside of my family, I didn’t even put it on my resume for fear of reactions from potential employers. The only reason my family knows is because I lived with them. Secrecy is difficult when kept under the same roof.”
He nodded, his foot that crossed his knee bobbing along in rhythm attempting to keep him awake, “Yes, I have discovered the same thing.” He tried to keep the bitterness taste on his tongue out of his words, “too many people make stealth nigh impossible.”
She nodded, “Yes, and some members were…talkative…and my town, well, not the whole town, but the gossipers which seem to the majority of any town, found out and it was just better if I came here.”
“I am sorry that you felt you had to leave to escape tongue wagglers. You will find Tokyo to be accepting of just about any interest you have. However, I am still left in the dark as you have yet to tell me what your interests actually are.”
“Oh, of course!” she laughed, “I didn’t mean to throw a pity party or make you feel bad for me. That was just backstory for you to know that I haven’t told anyone because of how I was treated after those I had grown up with realized. And the reason I feel confident in telling you is because your shop is so beautiful,” he smiled proudly, “and your clothes are exquisite,” he nodded enthusiastically, “and I’ve been passing by your shop for awhile now on my route to the shops and when I saw your Help Wanted sign it felt like…like destiny.” She paused to catch her breath, her enthusiastic tirade spilling out in a tumble.
“I love making clothes, wearing them, or giving them to those who will love them to wear!” she declared, “I love creating what you want the world to be and seeing it come to life as you sew each article of clothing. I love, I would love,” she ducked her head, “not to feel like a pariah because my happiness comes from what others do not find happiness in.”
Ayame had straightened, livened by her passionate words. He hadn’t felt such mutual fervor in his field; specifically what gave him such diverse clientele, perhaps ever, if he was thinking about it. He hadn’t had someone working with him before and, he glanced down at the paper to recall her name, while Mine Kuramae wasn’t the first person he had interviewed she was certainly the most ardent and seemed to be the type of person who would give her all during any project.
He jumped to his feet, exhaustion forgotten in the zeal of her declaration, flourishing her resume to the heavens in one hand as the other rested over his heart, “You have the conviction I’m looking for in an employee. You’re dedication to your craft, even after such heartless mockery, makes it difficult to restrain myself to demand justice from such Neanderthals. What is the world we live in where one must hide what makes one happy? Surely it should be commended, especially in regards to our particular trade.” Mine’s eyes widened at his speech, fingers intersected under her chin in rapture. He continued, “I want to make this shop the pièce de résistance of it’s category and it’s going to take hard work, fortitude, and most of all, it’s going to take every ounce of fabulous creativity you have in your body. Do you think you’re up to the challenge?”
Mine surged from her seat, fists raised in determination, “Sohma senpai,” he winced internally, “I would love nothing more in life than to dedicate mine to this cause. It is my only calling.”
“You can start as soon as possible but first there is something that you must first promise me and never forget or there could be trouble,” he told her, eyeing her seriously.
She nodded, waiting.
He laid the back of his hand to his forehead “Please never refer to me as Sohma senpai,” he revealed, spinning in a circle, “I can’t bear working conditions where I’m reminded of things outside of this shop when there’s so much to be done.”
“I can begin right away, bossman,” she replied, taking his sudden mood shift in stride. “When can I start?”
“Right now,” he said.