Chapter Text
The sun glints mockingly off the (frankly gaudy) paint job of the red and black monstrosity set up across the park. It’s back again for the third day in a row, and what’s even worse--it was set up before Daichi.
He huffs out a displeased breath. It wasn’t like his annoyance at the sight was born out of any particular worry that the new truck will come in and steal his spot. After all, there’s an unspoken code in their business, and even if honor fails, there’s always the law. Daichi has a permit and he’s not afraid to levy its full weight against some spot stealing asshole. Honestly, he almost wishes the other truck would try it.
No, it wasn’t that the other truck had done anything wrong per se. Daichi’s irritation stems mostly from the fact that it somehow seems as if by setting up earlier, the other truck has won some small unspoken contest. That by doing so, they’ll get the jump on his business--even though he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, considering he’s not going to be expecting any customers for at least the next couple of hours.
Pushing down his displeasure, Daichi instead turns his energy into setting up his truck--maybe with a little more exuberance than usual, but it was only because he hadn’t burned off as much energy as usual with his morning run. He slants another glance at the truck’s gaudy sign. TaRe YAcKI? Really? Even not counting how the other truck’s food tastes, who would even want to go to some truck whose name was an undecipherable chemistry reference?
“You know giving them the Dadchi stare of disapproval isn’t going to shame them into leaving.” Suga grunts a little when he plops one of the containers of ajitsuke tamago onto the counter.
Daichi sighs, turning to Suga. “First of all, don’t ever call me that again.” He mutters, “I swear, Hinata accidentally calls me Dad once, and now the jokes never stop.”
Suga rolls his eyes, as Daichi continues, “Second, I’m just looking in their general direction. Just because they’re in my field of view, doesn’t mean I’m focused on them.”
Suga snorts. “Sure, Daichi let me rephrase. Looking in their general direction in a way that seems to be specifically focused on the sign of the newest food truck with an expression that definitely doesn’t convey your disapproval won’t make them disappear.”
Daichi glares at Suga. Sometimes, he really hates his friends. Anyway, there’s no point in taking Suga’s clear bait; he knows the silver-haired man enough to understand that right now, Suga wants to provoke Daichi into some sort of reaction. Daichi is determined not to play into his hands. Instead, he pulls out the containers full of ingredients and begins organizing the back counter so that he can set up his mise en place.
Suga pipes up again, “Why does the new truck bother you so much? You didn’t seem as annoyed when Kiyoko and Yachi-chan set up their truck.” Daichi looks over to where Asahi is busy clearing up the space in front of their truck, humming in consideration.
“This is a completely different situation.” Daichi carefully arranges the containers. “Kiyoko and Yachi have their own niche with the vegan market. This new truck is currently stealing our customers.”
Suga shrugs and wipes the front counter down. “I mean, do you know that for certain? Maybe they’re actually Kiyoko and Yachi’s competitors?” He pauses, “After all, we won’t know unless we see for ourselves.”
Daichi turns to fully stare at Suga, knowing not to trust that tone of voice. He looks as angelic as usual, but Daichi knows that his silver hair is only hiding his tiny devil horns.
“If I ask you not to go over and try their food, will you at least promise not to do it in front of my face?” He continues staring Suga down as he hands him a knife and board to begin cutting the kamaboko.
Suga lets out a theatrical sigh. “If I must. I promise to not do the responsible thing as your co-founder and scope out the competition during business hours.”
Daichi snorts. “Our competition huh? I thought you said they were Kiyoko and Yachi’s competition.”
“Don’t you dare try to use my arguments against me. Dangerous things happen to people who do that.”
“It’s more dangerous to wave a knife around.”
“I was making a point… Get it?”
“...And you call me the dad.”
Daichi turns away from Suga, checking on the pots of broth. It’s not like he doesn’t understand competition. In fact, he appreciates it from time to time. It feels good to overcome the odds after all--to climb to the top. The long lines at their truck is more than enough proof that they’ve won any unspoken contests with the other trucks within their market.
Additionally, Wanna Shoyu Love is definitely a success by any metric. The original truck had nearly been going out of business, but Daichi had seen the potential there. He had believed in the truck--in himself and his friends, and now, despite their inauspicious beginnings, they have gotten to the point that they might actually expand to a brick and mortar location.
“What kind of food can they even sell that holds up to ramen?” he mutters darkly into the broth pots, stirring a bit more forcefully than needed. Suga snorts beside him, slicing the kamaboko.
“I mean, you can’t deny that whatever they’re selling, it smells good.” Asahi answers from outside as he props the heavy wooden sign and menu clapboard next to the truck.
Daichi turns a dead-eyed stare at Asahi. “Oh?”
“Yea, it really does smell amazing, doesn’t it Asahi?” Suga blithely ignores Daichi’s ominous aura.
Asahi sweats as he averts his eyes from Daichi, “I mean… It’s just… Objectively speaking, you know… It’s good?”
Daichi hms consideringly. “Objectively speaking, the two of you should drop this subject before I decide that the range and exhaust hood needs a deep cleaning.” Giving the broth one final, pointed stir, he moves over to take out the chashu.
“Well, ” Suga chirps as he neatly slides his sliced kamaboko into their designated container. “Regardless of whether their food is good or not, those three look like they’ll liven up the food park. They look like they’re a lot of fun at least.”
Daichi grumbles. Of course Suga ignores his warning. “Yes, it’ll definitely be a lot of fun once they lose out to us.”
Asahi shakes his head. “I can’t tell whether it’s scarier when Daichi’s nice to us, or when he’s being evil to other people.”
Daichi determinedly ignores them, saying. “Anyway. It doesn’t matter, because they’ll be gone within the month.”
Suga makes a noncommittal noise, and Daichi knows the other man has something to say. However, Suga stays quiet, biding his time until Daichi is halfway through slicing the chashu. “They’re getting great reviews, though.”
Daichi whips around, knife still in hand. “What? Wait. They already have reviews?”
Suga stares at him, completely unimpressed. “You know, someone told me that it’s dangerous to wave your knife around.”
Daichi glares, “Apparently it’s necessary when I’m trying to make a point, Suga. Anyway, how do they already have reviews?”
With a little shrug, Suga turns his phone so Daichi can see.
“No way those are real. Or maybe it’s a mass hallucination.”
“I don’t know Daichi. Maybe they’re actually really good?”
Daichi ignores Asahi’s suggestion for the nonsense it is.
Muttering to himself, Daichi slices at the chashu a little more violently as he looks over what still needs to be done. His eyes wander, and he ends up glancing over at the food truck across the park. They also seem to have finished prep for whatever it was they thought was good enough to sell. A young man with blond hair and black roots shuffles out of the truck and turns to say something to the man inside that makes him lean out of the window and laugh uproariously. His laughter carries across the park.
Daichi stares, a little taken aback by that laugh. He thinks not a little pettily to himself, that if the food wouldn’t scare away repeat customers, that laugh would do the trick. Speaking of, Daichi squints at the menu sign posted on the side of the other truck as he attempts to see just what their menu offered. It looked like--
“C’mon Daichi, I don’t know whether it was better when you were glaring. You just look constipated now.” Suga grins, “Anyway, maybe you should just bite the bullet and go over there yourself.”
Daichi shoots him a disdainful glance. “No.”
“Sooner or later it’s… Oh, look! One of them’s waving at you!”
Daichi freezes, staring at the man who was waving enthusiastically at him. Even from this distance, he can see the absolute disastrous hair the other man sports. He snorts inwardly. If that sloppy appearance is any indication of what their food is like, the other food truck will definitely be gone within the week. Without a change in expression, he immediately turns around, pretending that he hadn’t seen a thing.
“Wow Daichi. That wasn’t at all petty and rude.” Suga laughs, as Daichi valiantly pretends that he’s still busy with prep work.
Daichi sniffs, “I don’t have to be polite to the competition. Anyway, have you finished your prep?”
“Yes, Dad.” Suga groans. “We ready to open?”
“It’s 11:30 isn’t it?” Daichi replies, ignoring the nickname as he reaches outside to flip the placard to signal they were open. “Asahi, come on inside before you scare off all the customers.”
Asahi sighs heavily, trudging inside just as the first of the lunchwave starts to exit the nearby buildings.
It’s not often, Daichi muses, that he can see tangible betrayal right in front of him, but the immutable proof is there, in slightly crinkled bags that are starting to tremble in Asahi’s hands.
“Asahi,” he begins pleasantly, “what exactly is that?”
Daichi knows exactly what’s in his hands.
Betrayal.
Suga peers around Daichi, to where a flustered Asahi is starting to sweat. “Sweet! Hey Asahi! Did you get what I wanted?“
Daichi whirls around to stare daggers into Suga, who blinks back unapologetically as he reaches for the bags in Asahi’s hands.
“Suga.”
“Hmm?”
“I want you to know that I’m extremely disappointed in you, and I hope that you get food poisoning.”
Suga pauses his digging through the bag, and tilts his head at Daichi before shrugging. “I can handle that,” he says, and scurries back into the truck like the rat he is, setting the bag down on their pristine countertop.
“And Asahi?”
“Ye--Yes?”
“You’re on scrubbing duty today.”
“Wait--Why do I get the punishment when Suga just gets a scolding?”
“Because you’re a wimp so you deserve it.”
Daichi watches as Suga pulls out perfectly cooked skewers of various meats. He can smell the savory scent of the miso glaze used on the momo skewer, while the butabara skewer glistens a golden brown, each piece wrapped with bacon and brushed with a deep brown--almost mahogany sauce. Suga opens a container, and Daichi is greeted with the sight of perfectly formed steamed gyoza, the glossy skin looking plump and chewy.
Suga meets Daichi’s gaze as he smirks insolently and takes a slow bite of the momo yakitori.
“You know,” Suga says, mouth full and chewing obnoxiously as he gestures at the bag. “You’re welcome to try some. I bought enough for you.”
“I don’t eat food from traitors,” Daichi retorts, stepping towards Suga. “And I’d rather face down a hive of angry beavers than eat one bite.”
“Don’t you mean bees?” Suga asks, mouth covered in grease.
“I know what I said.”
Suga sighs as he daintily wipes his mouth, only to take a huge bite of his butabara skewer, speaking again to Daichi with his mouth full. “Anyway, you’re seriously overreacting Daichi. It’s not like trying it will kill you.”
“I am reacting perfectly normally, and you never know.” Daichi peevishly shoves at the bag of food, sliding it dangerously close to the edge of the counter.
“Oya, oya, I’m not sure if I should feel hurt by such a cold response.”
Asahi jumps, shaking the small truck, while Suga coughs, choking on his mouthful of pork belly. Daichi is spitefully happy that at least he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, and also, that karma clearly existed. He smacks Suga’s heaving back a little more forcefully than necessary as he looks at the newcomer.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out just who this man was. Daichi may have only seen him across the park, but that red shirt and his absolutely ridiculous hair are unmistakable. Daichi’s heart speeds up just the slightest bit at the smile directed towards him, though he also doesn’t miss the way the other man’s eyes narrow slightly at the sight of the rejected bag teetering on the edge of the counter.
Suppressing a sigh, and pasting on his best customer smile, Daichi asks, completely ignoring the other man’s comment. “Can I help you?”
Daichi assesses the other man, noticing that the hair that he’d seen from afar was just as--perhaps even more wild up close. Despite that fact, or maybe even because of it, a small voice inside Daichi begrudgingly admits that he’s slightly attractive. Before that voice (that sounds unnervingly like a smug Suga) can take root, Daichi smothers it ruthlessly.
The man grins. “Just wanted to come over and check you guys out. I’ve been meaning to stop by, but...” He smiles. It’s a sly smile, and Daichi is immediately on guard as the man continues.
“We’ve been so busy lately. I mean, you probably know what that’s like.”
Daichi’s temper ticks higher.
“Before I could make it over, one of your business partners came by before I even got a chance to say hi.” He gestures toward Asahi, who gives a timid wave, staring warily at Daichi. Suga just beams, his mouth full of gyoza.
Kuroo turns his attention back to Daichi. “My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou--your competition. Please treat us well.” He extends his hand to Daichi with a pleasant smile.
Daichi stares at it, before taking it and squeezing it just slightly harder than necessary. “Pleased to meet you Kuroo-san. My name is Sawamura Daichi. I hope you also treat us well.”
Releasing Kuroo’s hand, Daichi is not at all immaturely satisfied that Kuroo has to shake it out slightly.
Kuroo’s smile has not dimmed in the slightest however, and he gestures towards their menu. “Anyway, since I’m here, I suppose I might as well see what the competition is like.” He gives the menu an appraising stare, and Daichi, with admirable self-restraint, does not slam the window of the truck in his face.
“Wow. Your menu’s kinda small, huh?”
“We choose to have a very selective menu.” Daichi smiles, through gritted teeth.
“Of course, of course.” Kuroo gives a Cheshire grin. “It’s just for us, we like to provide people with more choices. It seems like it’s pretty popular. Though I suppose I don’t blame you if you’re nervous about branching out.”
A vein ticks in Daichi’s brow, but his smile doesn’t drop. “Dependable quality is our motto. I’ve seen many restaurants fall into the trap of trading quality for quantity. Though I suppose I don’t blame them since they’re probably nervous about staying in business.”
Kuroo just keeps grinning at him, and Daichi has to tamp down on the startling urge to throw the rest of the food Asahi had brought out the truck.
“Oh, of course. I definitely see the quality part.” He gives Daichi a long look up and down, completely ignoring everything else Daichi had just said.
Daichi clenches his hands on the counter, knuckles going white. Suga and Asahi have been absolutely zero help in this conversation, and have instead been watching them, enraptured, as they keep chewing their food.
Daichi spitefully hopes they choke (in Suga’s case, again).
“So,” He says, forcing himself to keep a pleasant tone. “Have you decided what you’d like to order yet? Because if you still haven’t made up your mind, I’d like to ask that you please get out of line while you decide.”
Daichi knows he’s being rude and petty, but he can’t help but feel like it was extremely justified when Kuroo gives him an appraising look before turning around to stare at the absolutely empty space behind him. By the time he turns back with a smirk, Daichi is fuming while Suga and Asahi look like they’re having the time of their lives.
Without losing a beat, Kuroo asks, still smirking. “Why don’t you make me whatever is the best item on your menu?”
Daichi answers with a smile sharp enough to cut, “Everything on our menu is the best.”
“Well, then I’ll have whatever is your favorite. You look like you have a refined palate.” Kuroo’s eyes narrow as his smirk widens.
Daichi can’t help the amused huff of air he lets out as he smirks back at Kuroo. “Oh I do. Don’t worry, you won’t regret whatever I choose.” He turns away to prepare the bowl, as he hears Kuroo’s soft reply.
“I don’t think I will.”
Unwilling to let himself be distracted by their conversation, Daichi is determined to let his food speak for itself as he prepares his favorite shoyu ramen bowl. It calms him, as he methodically ladles the rich broth and cooks the handmade noodles to the perfect level of chewiness. He carefully places the ajitama--the yolk perfectly soft boiled and dark golden, arranges the chashu along with other toppings, and carefully presses the lid on top of the bowl. Having regained his center of balance, he returns to the window, interrupting the lively conversation between Kuroo, Suga, and Asahi.
“Order up,” Daichi calls, plunking the bowl down with a pleasant smile. “Please enjoy quickly, dear customer. After all, it’s better to enjoy it while it’s hot.” He hopes that this is enough of a hint for Kuroo to take his food and quickly leave.
“If you insist.” Kuroo smiles widely at him, as he takes the bowl.
Despite Daichi’s hopes that Kuroo would take his food and leave, (so that he didn’t have to keep looking at his sly smile, or his messy hair, or his stupid broad shoulders) he’s never that lucky, and Kuroo decides to eat the ramen right in front of his truck like some mannerless delinquent.
Daichi watches him eat from the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction to the food, as he wipes down the already clean counter. Unfortunately, Kuroo’s expression is infuriatingly neutral. Daichi frowns. He hadn’t expected much reaction from Kuroo, since the other man looked like he played his cards close to his chest, but still--no reaction? Maybe his lack of reaction was Kuroo’s way of pretending the ramen wasn’t as good as it actually was. Or maybe Kuroo’s lack of any reaction is him being polite, and Kuroo actually hates the ramen. Daichi is so lost in his thoughts and analysis, he ends up getting caught staring. He valiantly pushes down the flush in his cheeks when Kuroo gives him a small nod and a smile. Honestly, that restrained action was even more infuriating than Kuroo’s lack of reaction.
Determined not to let Kuroo bother him, he goes back to cleaning his immaculate station.
“That was really good.”
Daichi is immediately annoyed at how cat-like the man is, having snuck up on him twice in the span of so many minutes. He has half a mind to tell Kuroo to wear a bell, except he’s pretty sure the other man would absolutely enjoy his complaint way too much. He turns slowly, just as Kuroo places the empty bowl back on the counter with a smile.
“I could definitely tell that the ingredients you choose are all fresh and of really high quality. It really comes out as you eat it.”
Daichi raises an eyebrow. “Considering how fast you ate it, I’m impressed you tasted anything at all.”
“What can I say?” Kuroo grins as he drops his gaze, leaning towards Daichi. “When something’s delicious, I can’t help but want to eat up every single bite.”
Daichi swallows, throat suddenly dry as he struggles not to think about the way Kuroo’s voice had dropped. However, his annoyance comes roaring back as soon as he glimpses Kuroo’s smirk. He can’t continue to let himself be thrown off balance--can’t let Kuroo win… whatever this was. Mustering up one of his most challenging grins he leans forward. “So? Is this one of those times?” Daichi lowers his lashes as he purrs, “Is it delicious?”
Kuroo’s eyes widen as his mouth drops. Daichi smugly gives himself a pat on the back. “Ple-- I mean-- Yes,” he pauses, still looking a bit off-balance, and it feels great to have put Kuroo on the back foot. “Uh--Anyways, feel free to stop by my truck for yakitori anytime.” Daichi suddenly feels a sensation not unlike encroaching doom. “After all,” Kuroo winks, and Daichi’s stomach gives an uncomfortable swoop as he receives a smug grin. “It’s always better when they’re hot.”
With that last comment, Kuroo gives a jaunty wave and saunters back to his truck. Daichi watches him leave as he stands there with his two absolutely terrible friends, Suga elbowing him rapidly, while Asahi nervously backs away.
That’s it.
Kuroo--and TaRe YAcKI are going down.