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☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ: ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁
Choosing to graduate from Oya high was one of the hardest decisions Murayama has ever had to make for himself and it took him a while before he felt comfortable enough to do just that. He had many memories, most of them good, from his time at Oya and he was thankful for the time he spent there, for the friends and allies he made along the way. He often wondered how different of a person he would be if he had never taken over Oya, but he didn’t want to dwell on that for too long.
A new chapter of his life had officially begun and he was terrified, but it also felt freeing. It felt as if his world had expanded, laying out before him just waiting for him to conquer it.
Murayama Yoshiki was forging a new path for himself with his two best friends at his side. The question was – where did he even begin? Had the world always been so vast, so open? It was a terrifying thought, but he wanted to explore the world and see what lay beyond the borders of S.W.O.R.D.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would eventually return, but there was no harm in having some fun until then, right? The world was his and he was the king of his own destiny.
Most of the time.
Murayama clicked his tongue in annoyance as his bike came to a stop, the engine whining pitifully as it ran out of gas, right beneath a sign telling him that the next gas station was a hundred miles down the road. He squinted his eyes against the blazing sun, looking around him. All he could see was desert, the heat distorting the scenery the farther he looked. He’s pulled off some impressive feats in his short lifetime, but walking a hundred miles in the desert? He would most likely die, that he was sure of, but he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. It wasn’t his style.
He swung his leg over, pulling himself off the bike, giving it a glare for good measure before he began walking, his sneakers kicking up sand and sending tiny pebbles skittering across the ground. His stomach was complaining loudly because he hadn’t eaten much of anything in two days. “Just tough it out,” he muttered, slapping his stomach a couple of times. If there was one thing Murayama excelled at, it was toughing it out even during the most impossible of situations, and this was no different.
Time seemed to tick by slower than it ever had before. It became torturous just trying to lift his legs, his sneakers dragging across the ground. Sweat dripped from his face, his jacket thrown over his shoulder to try and help his body cool down. The sky was devoid of clouds and there was not even the lightest of breezes to assist him. It was truly a miserable experience and he didn’t make it very far before his legs gave out and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He was so distracted by his misery that he didn’t notice the car coming up the road behind him, nor did he notice when the car stopped.
“Oi, are you alright?”
He slowly lifted his head and he swore he saw an angel standing there, the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. He rubbed at his eyes but you didn’t vanish.
You frowned, shielding your eyes with your hand as you stepped closer to him. “You’re not going to make it far in this heat. Where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”
He stared at the hand you offered him, blinking dumbly as if the sun had fried the last of his braincells. Finally, he managed to lift his hand, sliding it into your own and letting you pull him to his feet. You offered him a smile before getting back into the car, waiting for him to drag his body to the passenger seat. He released an audible sigh as the AC hit him, slinking down in his seat as if he weren’t in a stranger’s car. You chuckled, bumping the AC up a notch before putting the car in drive and pressing on the gas.
“What are you doing way out here, anyway?”
“I ran out of gas,” he replied, his head lolling to the side so he could look at you. “You shouldn’t pick up strangers off the side of the road. S’dangerous.”
You hummed, glancing at him. “Are you a serial killer?”
“No.”
“Then we’re fine.”
His nose scrunched up at that. “You’re just going to believe me? What if I’m lying?”
“It’s certainly possible, but… I believe you.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. There’s just something about your eyes… they seem honest enough.”
He scoffed in disbelief, turning to look out the window. The desert was passing by in a blur of brown and tan, making him feel dizzy. He rested his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, he just wanted to rest his eyes, but it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.
You giggled when you heard the soft snores coming from his lips. ‘He must be really exhausted after walking in this heat. What a strange man.’ You turned on the radio, keeping the volume low so you had something to listen to during the long drive, your head bobbing and fingers tapping the steering wheel in tune with the beat.
An hour later, you were pulling up to the Nekromicon Diner, parking beside the building where the employee entrance was. You had figured the man would be awake by now, but he was still sleeping peacefully. You had to wonder when the last time he had slept was. As you pulled the keys from the ignition, you frowned at him. ‘I can’t just leave him in the car, he’ll die from heatstroke for sure.’
“Excuse me,” you called softly, resting your hand on his shoulder. No response. “Excuse me, sir, it’s time to wake up.”
A soft groan passed his lips followed my unintelligible mumbling before he turned away from you, curling against the door. You tried a few more times but with no success. A normal person probably would have left him, but you had never been normal, often doing questionable things without hesitation. Such as trying to pull him from the car.
You grabbed him under his armpits and tugged as hard as you could, managing to pull his body off the seat, but you misjudged how heavy he really was. He may have been skinny, but he was also full of muscle. A squeak left your lips as your legs gave out, sending you to the dusty pavement with him on top of you, his face pressed into your chest. It was hard to breathe with his weight pressing down on you so you tried to pull yourself out from under him. This was also a failure.
“Sir, please wake up. This is not how I want to die,” you cried, patting him on the back repeatedly. You were about to start screaming ‘uncle’ when he started to stir, lifting his head to look at you through bleary eyes. “Good morning. Well, evening, technically.”
Murayama frowned, blinking a few times as his tired brain tried to process the situation.
“Um, if you could maybe get off me, that would be appreciated. I’m already late for work.”
“Why am I on you?” he muttered, his voice raspy as he pushed himself off of you, sitting on the pavement and running his hand through his messy hair.
You sat up, as well, taking a deep breath. “Well, it’s too hot to leave you in the car and you wouldn’t wake up so I tried to carry you.”
“You tried to -” He sent you a disbelieving look. “Are you stupid?”
“Only on Sundays,” you winked, pulling yourself to your feet before holding your hand out to him. He hesitated, still processing the fact that you had tried to carry him rather than just leaving him, but he figured you just didn’t want him alone in your car. His hand slid into your own and you helped him to his feet. “Come on, you can grab some food from the diner.”
He was about to say he had no money and wasn’t hungry, but his stomach refused to give him the chance, whining loudly and pitifully.
You just smiled, pulling open the staff entrance and waiting for him to follow you through. The room on the other side acted as storage, large metal shelves tightly packed together as they held various spices and dry ingredients, equipment, and whatever other junk the employees didn’t know what to do with. It opened up to the kitchen, where the chef was lazily frying a burger, one hand holding the spatula while the other held a magazine about celebrity gossip. It was strange seeing an older man so interested in the affairs of stars, but you weren’t one to judge other people’s hobbies.
“Evening, Satori-san.”
“Yup,” he grunted before freezing mid-page turn, his wide eyes snapping to you. You offered him a wave and he quickly tossed the magazine behind him, straightening his back and clearing his throat. “Ah, I mean, good evening, boss! I didn’t think you were coming in today.”
“Boss?” Murayama muttered under his breath, taking a minute to fully look you over. You didn’t look like the type to be in charge of anything and you weren’t very intimidating, either.
“Well, my plans kind of fell through when Naomi decided she no longer supports music stores because they are ‘pirates and schemers disguised as teenage boys who hate their life’. It was quite the breakthrough for her, apparently.” You shook your head, not understanding your friend’s antics. “Anything to report?”
“No, boss! Everything has been smooth as butter, boss!”
You nodded, smiling brightly at him. “Thank you for your hard work, Satori-san. If you’ll excuse us.” You waved at him again before continuing through the kitchen.
Murayama followed you, watching the man release the breath he was holding before realizing the burger was burning. “Idiot~”
You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Did you say something?”
“No.”
With a shrug, you unlocked your office and stepped inside. Although you hadn’t shut the door or told him not to follow you, he felt a little weird about it so he opted to just stand in the doorway, watching you as you searched for something. “Aha!” You tugged a tan apron from one of the bottom drawers in the filing cabinet, a grin on your lips at your accomplishment.
“Don’t you own this place?”
“I do. What about it?” You tilted your head at him as you pulled the apron over your head, wrapping the strings around you.
“Why would you serve people when you’re the owner?” His nose wrinkled at the thought. “Isn’t the point of being the boss so you don’t have to do stuff like that?”
“I suppose for some, yes, but I started this diner because I enjoy serving people.” You shooed him from the office before leading him through the kitchen and out into the diner itself. “Have a seat wherever you want, look over the menu and I’ll be right with you.”
Murayama nodded, stepping around the counter before looking around the diner. There were only two other patrons – an old man sitting at the end of the counter reading a newspaper and a couple of travelers sitting in a booth at the back of the room. He chose to sit at the counter, a few seats down from the old man.
Gloria, the seventeen-year-old you employed as a waitress, was sitting on a stool in front of the register, her chin resting against her chest as she napped. It looked quite uncomfortable and you worried about her falling onto the floor so you gently shook her awake. She blinked, rubbing at her eyes and complaining about being woken up until she realized who stood before her. She jumped up so quickly that she knocked over the stool.
“G-Good morning, boss!”
“It’s evening,” you chuckled, picking up the stool.
“Right…”
After refilling the older gentleman’s coffee, you approached Murayama with a smile. “Have you decided what you want?”
He was tempted to say everything because he was starving but he also had no money. He contemplated it for a moment, thinking about just dining and dashing, but he restrained himself, propping his cheek in his hand and looking at you blankly. “I have no money.”
Your smile didn’t drop. “I kind of figured that. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”
He frowned, glancing around at the empty diner before leaning forward. “You sure you can afford that? Business isn’t exactly booming, ne?”
“We’re not the most popular because we’re in the middle of nowhere, but we make enough to get by. Lots of tourists getting lost around here. Thank you for your concern, though!”
“I wasn’t even concerned,” Murayama huffed, looking back down at the menu. “Omelette rice.”
“Okay!” You turned around and headed back into the kitchen.
Murayama thought you were strange. Or stupid. Maybe a bit of both. Not only had you picked up a total stranger off the side of the road, you also tried to carry said stranger, brought said stranger into your business, and now you’re feeding said stranger without charging him a cent. You were too generous for your own good and he honestly kind of hated it. A part of him was grateful, though. If not for you, he’d probably be unconscious right now, frying like an egg on the side of the road. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times you had been taken advantage of, though.
“Ta-da~” you set a steaming plate of omelet rice in front of him and a glass of coke. “Enjoy!”
His mouth watered, his stomach whining as the scent of the food reached his nostrils. He grabbed the spoon and threw whatever manners he possessed out the window, scarfing the food down as if he hadn’t eaten in years. You found it adorable, but Gloria sent him a disgusted look.
“Boss, why did you bring back a monkey?”
You hummed thoughtfully. “He needed help. And he’s cute, don’t you think?”
“Not really.”
Murayama burped as he set the empty plate down, pieces of rice stuck to the corner of his mouth. You resisted the urge to wipe the food away by ringing up the older man, thanking him for his patronage and wishing him a good day. For a while, he just watched you as you went around the diner, cleaning and tending to the few guests that came and went throughout the day. Then he got bored and tired, settling himself into a corner booth for a nap and that’s where he stayed until it was time to close. As always, you were the last person left in the diner and once you were done with your paperwork, it was time to wake him up.
You gently shook his shoulder but he didn’t budge, soft snores escaping him. “Please don’t make me carry you again,” you pouted, nudging him a bit harder. “It’s time to wake up~”
A groan passed his lips, his eyes cracking open to glare at you. “What?”
“The diner’s closed.”
Through blurry eyes, he sat up and looked around the diner to confirm what you said before sighing, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll leave then.”
You frowned, stepping back when he pulled himself up from the booth. “I can take you wherever you need to go.”
He looked at you over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. Were you really this kind? Or did you have an ulterior motive? “My bike ran out of gas and I missed my job interview.”
“Eh? You didn’t mention an interview! I could have taken you.”
“I forgot.”
You sighed, heading for the door. “Let’s get you some gas for your bike. Maybe you can call them and they’ll understand.”
“Probably not,” he shrugged, following after you. The night was chilly and he shivered when the wind blew, his jacket still around his waist so that he was in only a tank top. “Why are you doing all this?”
You hummed, locking up the diner before heading for your car. “I like helping people. It makes me happy knowing I can.”
“It’s dangerous, ya know?”
“For the most part, my instincts are good when it comes to sensing a dangerous situation. I felt no danger from you.”
He nearly laughed. No danger? He was the ex-leader of Oya high school, a man that had taken one hundred punches without bowing down. He had won dozens of battles against guys twice his size. He was the epitome of danger. Then again, Murayama Yoshiki was not such a dick that he would attack someone for no reason, especially not someone that had gone out of their way to help him.
The gas station was about a mile down from the diner and it didn’t take long for you to grab a gas can and some gas before returning to the car, opening the windows so the smell didn’t overpower the two of you. Since the highway had no lights, you had to drive slow so you didn’t pass his bike, cloaked by the darkness of the night, and you parked in front of it so he could use the headlights of your car to see what he was doing.
Murayama fiddled with the lid of the gas can before setting it back in your car. He felt awkward but he knew he needed to thank you. Why did he feel so nervous? It was a simple ‘thank you’ and then he could be on his way, never seeing you again. Why did that thought bring a pang to his chest?
You pulled a pen from your pocket as you approached him. “Gimme your hand.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to give you my number,” you told him with a smile, reaching out to grab his wrist so you could bring his hand closer. “If they won’t give you a second chance, then give me a call. I’ll hire you!”
Murayama didn’t know what to say, but the prospect of getting to see you again made him feel hopeful. “Sure…”
“Good night. Get home safe.” You started to turn but his words made you pause.
“Murayama Yoshiki,” he told you loudly. “My name.”
Your smile widened. “It’s nice to meet you, Murayama-san. I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated your name, tasting it on his tongue. He liked how right it felt. “Don’t pick up any strangers on the way home.”
“I have a one stranger a day maximum, don’t worry,” you chuckled, offering him a tiny wave as you returned to your car. You had offered rides to many people during your lifetime, but none were quite as interesting as he was. You really hoped you would see him again.
☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ: ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁
A week had passed since your fateful encounter with Murayama and you hadn’t been able to get him out of your mind. Every time the bell would chime above the door, your head would snap up, hoping to see him only to be disappointed when it wasn’t. You knew this feeling quite well – you had caught feelings for him much like you would a cold. You didn’t want it, but it chose you for whatever reason and you had to deal with the aftermath. A sigh passed your lips as you tossed the dishtowel onto the counter, running a hand through your hair.
“Boss? Are you… okay?” Gloria inquired softly, almost as if she didn’t want to ask.
You took a moment to compose yourself before offering her a kind smile. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Well… you’re sighing a lot lately.”
“Am I?” You frowned when she nodded. You hadn’t even realized you had been doing it. “I’m sorry. I guess my mind is just elsewhere. I’m going to take a break.” You headed for the kitchen just as the bell above the door chimed, but you held back your desire to see who had entered which was harder than it should have been. You headed straight for your office, falling onto your chair with a sigh, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling. ‘Why can’t I stop thinking about him? I know nothing about him and yet… have I really fallen for him?’
A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts and you sat up straight, clearing your throat before telling them to enter. You expected to see Gloria but your heart skipped a beat when the door opened, revealing Murayama Yoshiki. You tried to hold back your excitement, but a grin split your lips.
“Murayama-san, hello!”
“Hi.” He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him before making himself comfortable in the chair across from your desk. “I’m here for that job.”
“Of course!” You tugged up the bottom drawer a little harder than you meant to before searching through the papers there, separated by thin, cardboard dividers for organization. Producing an application, you set it on your desk with a pen. “Can you fill this out? It’s just for my records.”
He leaned forward to do just that and you took the time to admire him as he focused on the paper. His dark eyes framed by soft lashes, dark bags beneath them. There was a bit of grease from his bike smudged on his cheek and his hair was messy as if he had run his hand through it one too many times. A bandana sat firmly against his forehead, sitting low so that it added a shadow over his eyes, making him look more mysterious. You could see his veins through his skin as he gripped the pen, his handwriting sloppy and without much care.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His eyes met yours and you jumped in surprise.
You tried to play it cool, moving your gaze to the papers at the corner of your desk, pretending to organize them despite them already being in their proper order. “Like what?”
“I don’t know… you had a goofy smile on your face.” He tilted his head to the side as he observed you, lightly tapping the end of the pen on the page. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
You thought about his words for a moment before bringing your gaze back to his. “I’m really glad you decided to work here.”
Murayama was surprised by the sincerity in your voice and the warmth in your eyes. Honestly, he had been putting off the decision because he didn’t want to face you. He was so sure that you had just been being nice to him, taking pity on him, and didn’t actually want him to work for you or see him again. Even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and it was driving him insane, so he finally caved and came to see you. But… to see that you were genuinely happy about him being there, made his heart rate pick up and warmth flood his cheeks. He quickly ducked his head, focusing on the form again.
You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so you fought the urge to watch him again, turning to your laptop to do some actual work while you waited.
When he finally finished, he slid it across the desk. “Are you gonna train me now or something?”
“No training necessary,” you smiled at the application. “Just do what you feel is best, but please be kind and respectful to the customers.”
‘Kind’ and ‘respectful’ was not something Murayama did well, but he didn’t want to drive away what few customers your diner got, so he told himself that he would do his best for you. “I start now?”
“You start now!” You stood up, tugging the apron from around your neck and handing it over to him. “I don’t have any spares, so you can use mine until I can get one ordered for you.”
Murayama took the item from your hands, slowly standing up and pulling it over his head before he tried to tie it around his back, but it didn’t seem to be working for him and he struggled for a few minutes before looking at you expectantly.
You blinked, taking a moment to realize what he was silently asking you. “Oh. Here, let me help.” You approached him slowly, giving him plenty of time to step away if he was uncomfortable, but he just stood there, watching you closely as you took the strings from his hands, wrapping them around his back before bringing them around the front and tying it into a bow. “Is that too tight?”
“No.”
“Good.” You looked up at him, catching his eyes. Both of you seemed frozen in time, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as if the rest of the world no longer existed. And honestly, neither of you would have cared much if the world ended at that moment. All that mattered was the person standing in front of you.
Murayama leaned closer, his breath fanning against your face as his hand reached for the side of your neck. “I want to kiss you.”
A grin tugged at your lips. “Good, because I was thinking the same thing.” Your lips met his, warm and soft and stealing the breath from your lungs. You had always been a firm believer that perfection did not exist but at that moment? You were positive you had found the perfect moment, one that would be in your heart for the rest of your life.
☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ: ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁