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Iwai wasn’t a remorseful guy.
‘What’s done is done’—that was what he believed. There was no use lamenting about missed opportunities and past mistakes. Still, there were a handful of times Iwai truly regretted his life choices. Like failing to stop Kaoru’s mother from abandoning her baby years ago. Like not being able to spend more time with Kaoru in recent years. Like hiring a sixteen years old high school student as his airsoft shop’s part-timer.
It wasn’t that Iwai disliked Akira. On the contrary, Akira was probably the only teenager he respected besides his son (though he would kill before telling a soul he thought that way). Akira was a brat, sure, but also smart—perhaps too smart for his own goods. He got guts too, and had been very useful in helping Iwai sniff around and gather information on Tsuda and the gang.
Which was exactly the problem. Iwai should have been more concerned about the possible danger it could bring to the kid than the usefulness he brought to the table. From Iwai’s observation, Akira himself was likely involved in enough questionable activities on his own that he didn’t need his boss further jeopardizing his safety by dragging him into some shady ex-yakuza business. The man never for one second bought the kid’s lame explanations for frequently stocking up on military-style weapon replicas and coming up with the weirdest trinkets for sell—there was no way he and his friends would need a grenade launcher solely for ‘cosplay’, nor could a highschooler get his hand on an A-class fake Olympic medal in any legitimate way.
And yet, more often than not, Iwai couldn’t bring himself to say no to those steel gray eyes, resulting in him making decisions that he would come to regret later on.
Tonight might prove to be one of those times.
Thinking back, Iwai cursed himself for not putting the limited edition rifle model away the moment it arrived at Untouchable, because when Akira saw the latest inventory his gray eyes lit up like a cat who spotted a mouse. Before he could open his mouth, Iwai held up a warning hand, “Don’t even think about it.”
“I haven’t said a word yet.”
“I can tell what you’re thinking just by your round doe eyes. The answer is ‘no’.”
“How much did the customer pay? I’ll pay more.”
“It’s not like I don’t wanna take your money, kid, but this is a gift for a long-term customer, not for sell.”
“Not even for your favorite employee?”
Iwai rolled his eyes. “You’re the only employee here.”
Shoving his hands into the pants pockets, Akira smirked, “You didn’t deny I’m likeable though.”
The man let out a suffering grumble. He couldn’t recall a time the kid being so damn chatty it was getting borderline annoying. “Fine, I’ll order another one for you. Have your money prepared in a month. It ain’t cheap, I’m telling you.”
“A month? But we need it soon, like the coming weekend…for this big cosplay convention coming up. My friend Yusuke is going to love it. Iwai-san, I have the cash and can pay you right away.”
“And how’d a high school student got their hands on that much money, huh?”
“I work part-time jobs. A lot.” Akira didn’t even blink, shrugging. “So can I have this one?”
“No. Now get back to work before I decide to fire you.”
That shut Akira up quick.
It wasn’t the end of the conversation, though. Because for the rest of the night the kid moped so openly that Iwai almost found it cute to see his normally expressionless face contorted into a pout. Except for when he ‘accidentally’ brushed the dust cleaner against pieces and tools on the shelves and knocked them to the floor making annoying clanking sound. Multiple times. Like a petty cat doing it repeatedly on purpose out of boredom or just to vex the hell out of its owner.
“Focus, damn brat.”
“I’m trying to, but my mind keeps conjuring up Yusuke’s disappointed face when I tell him he can’t attend the convention because I fail to get him the perfect model rifle.”
The corner of Iwai’s eye twitched with irritation. Biting down on the lollipop in his mouth into pieces, he threw the kid a death glare from behind the counter. “I swear to God…” Said kid didn’t seem fazed, not even in the slightest, but at least had the decency to mutter a small “sorry” under his breath. Iwai ignored the pout that was even more noticeable now.
A while later Akira abandoned the dust cleaner, headed back to the storage room before coming back with a damp cloth. He started wiping down the shelves and then the counter on which Iwai had his legs propped up on. The owner watched as the kid took extra care of the glass surface, polishing the spot right next to Iwai’s boots almost too meticulously, the motion kept making this squeaky sound that was too loud inside the silent store.
Iwai narrowed his eyes and looked up at the kid, fully expected to see either an aggravated or whiny expression, except the one greeting him was reminiscent of a ten-year-old Kaoru pleading with his Dad to take him to Destinyland.
Being a dad had made him into a big softie.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into…” Iwai let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan. “…Here’s the deal, Kurusu. You will show up an hour early to your shift for the rest of the month. Make sure you finish all stock-taking by the end of it. And I’m not giving you any employee discounts on the rifle. You’re gonna pay the full price, which is 130 thousand yen in total.”
“Does this mean…?” Akira’s big, round eyes blinked at him hopefully.
“…Yeah, just this once. It won’t ever happen again.”
“You’re the best boss on earth, Iwai-san.” The bright smile Akira gave him was grateful and a bit cheeky. Iwai definitely didn’t feel this weird, warm sensation growing in his chest. He did not.
Clearing his throat, he warned without menace. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“You got it. Anything else? Need me to eavesdrop on a gang member again? Or deliver suspicious package? Oh, does Kaoru need tutoring? I can do that too. I'm top of the class, just so you know.” Now the kid was being too eager and chatty to his liking. Iwai very much preferred the old version when he first came into the store months ago. More soft-spoken and a little timid. Less impudent.
Iwai pinched his nose bridge. “Just go back to the storage room and clean the damn place. Quietly.”
“Yes, sir.”
And when he went back to the storage room later to check up on his employee, he wasn’t surprised to find the space squeaky clean. Well, a happy employee meant a productive employee.