Work Text:
Oda sipped from his coffee cup only to find it empty. He slowly set it back down on the table with a sad sigh and stared wistfully out the front window of the quiet cafe he was sitting in. Living was hard. Just what did people do with themselves all day? He regularly saw people at this cafe meeting with others, or sitting by themselves with laptops but they were never around for more than an hour or two so what else were they up to? With no peers, no friends, no family and no mentor, he had no one to ask. Not that being alone was something unusual in his life but it felt different now and whilst more than once he had considered getting in touch with that master martial artist from a few years ago it was never more than a passing thought.
“Yeah like he’d join me for coffee, if he heard from me he’d probably just think someone had taken a hit out on him.” Oda thought to himself, remembering just how he had ended up meeting that guy. He certainly didn’t miss being an assassin, and no amount of money would make him return to it. Besides it’s not like he’d ever actually wanted to be one. It was just something he had become stuck doing because he couldn’t do anything else. At least it had never occurred to him he could do anything else. Not until that middle aged mustached man had pointed it out. And now that he could be anything, do anything, he felt overwhelmingly lost.
In truth he kept visiting this cafe, the same one where he had met the mustached man in the hopes he would return and...and what exactly? Oda didn’t know what he expected the guy to do. Maybe a writing masterclass or something or at least a few pointers. He had burned every attempt so far at writing, deeply embarrassed by how terrible and shallow whatever he put to a page felt. He wanted to write but it seemed writing didn’t want him, so now what he supposed to do?
His private pity party was suddenly interrupted by a jolt to his senses in which a vision of the future played out in his head. All in shades of blue, he saw the window at the front of the cafe shattering, blown apart as the satchel belonging to a man walking past suddenly exploded launching itself towards the window and the man in the opposite direction. As the full spectrum of colours slowly returned to him he knew the vision was over. Given they only provided between five and six seconds of warning he quickly surveyed the cafe and was relieved to see it was fairly empty and no one was directly by the window inside or out. Oda then sprang from his chair and sprinted to the door and outside to see the man with the satchel approaching him.
Thinking quickly he yelled “Your shoelace!” at the man who paused to look down at his shoes. As he did so Oda dashed towards him and tried to grab the satchel from his shoulder.
“Hey!” He yelled and grabbed tightly onto the bag strap stopping Oda from separating them.
“Sorry” Oda said flatly as he swung round to deliver a hefty right hook to the man’s face but as he did, another vision presented itself of the man falling into the road and being hit by a car. Reacting instantly Oda opted to grab the man instead and used his momentum to throw the pair of them into a roll to the ground landing in such a way he was also able to kick the bag away just enough as it exploded beside them. The sound of that and a car screeching to a halt summoned those who had been inside nearby and with them came a high pitched scream. Oda looked up to see one of the waitresses from the cafe and then looked down to see the man he had wrestled lying unconscious on the floor, bleeding.
Immediately he moved into action. Fortunately first aid was something he had become very good at in his previous line of work. Seeing the future warned of potential injury but it could not prevent it entirely. The first thing he did was make sure the man was breathing by putting his fingers to his nose. As soon as felt breath on them he moved to look at the man carefully. On identifying no obvious shrapnel embedded anywhere he carefully moved him onto his side into the recovery position. A firm tap to Oda’s shoulder broke the trance he had somewhat been in and he turned to a man offering him his jacket. Oda accepted it with a small nod of his head and placed it over the injured man like a blanket.
The wail of sirens encroached on the surrounding air and before long paramedics moved in and took over allowing Oda to quietly slip away from the crowd, which had grown significantly in the passing time. As he walked away he felt a strange sensation rising from his stomach. It swelled warmly into his chest.
“I helped someone,” he said quietly to himself. “I helped.” __________________________________________________________________________
“You’re a hard man to find, you know.” A man said happily as he approached where Oda was sitting. “Mind if I join you?” The man took the lack of refusal as permission. “I musta had to ask about a hundred people to track you down. You’re like a ghost!”
“Is that so?” Oda replied nonchalantly
“Even then none of them were helpful, the only thing anyone could agree on was your bright red hair. It’s just pure luck that I spotted you through the window as I was passing!”
There was a brief awkward silence. Oda had purposefully avoided returning to the cafe for several weeks after the exploding bag incident in order to avoid exactly this scenario. Whilst it had felt good to help the man out he wasn’t so keen on any attention it might bring about. Sensing that Oda was not planning on picking up the conversation the man continued.
“I just had to find you and thank you. You saved my life!”
“It was nothing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know my job is dangerous, it took all I had not to quit the first time someone from the company died and well without you I would have just been another statistic scaring off new employees. Heaven knows we need all the man power we can get.
“You weren’t hurt enough to die.”
The man gave a small laugh “Well I certainly felt like death when I woke up in the hospital. Your quick actions definitely meant I could get back to work sooner than if you had done nothing. How can I ever repay you?”
Oda thought for a moment before tentatively asking “Does your work help people?”
“Not really I mean all we do is...” The man started but as he saw the light quickly fade in Oda’s eyes and his shoulders slump ever so slightly he quickly continued “But it’s kind of important and someone like you could really help us.”
Oda perked up.
“Well,” he started “I am sort of looking for something to do.”
“Say no more!” The man excitedly replied as he started to stand. “Are you busy now? I could take you straight over to the old boss man’s office. I will gladly vouch for you.”
________________________________________________________________________
Oda found himself standing in a very drab, very grey office. The overweight, balding man before him on the other side of the desk stubbed out a half smoked cigarette into an overflowing ashtray and immediately grabbed the open pack next to it banging it on the desk to force out a brand new one which he then took between his thin, chapped lips and lit.
“Look kid, I appreciate you helping Nishimura out and all but...” he paused, taking a deep drag of his smoke and exhaling it with an exaggerated sigh. “I dunno, shouldn’t you be in school or summit?”
Oda stood quietly and watched the lit cigarette bobbing up and down in the man’s mouth. After a couple more puffs and flicking some ash towards the ashtray he continued.
“How old are ya?” he asked but Oda stayed quiet.
“Where’re ya from?”
More silence.
“Got any prior work experience?”
Plenty, Oda thought to himself but as he was still reluctant to talk he slowly nodded instead. As he did the man sat staring at him gesturing with his hand for elaboration and although he remained stock still with a calm appearance, internally he felt like he was drowning as his mind raced for a way to suitably describe his former career that wouldn’t result in the man before him calling the police. Then just as he opened his mouth to speak the office door burst open and a younger man with dark hair long enough to be pulled into a short ponytail stood there eyes wide with panic.
“Sir, sand is in the harbor!”
The man behind the desk cursed and stubbed out his cigarette. This time instead of lighting another he reached and picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk.
“Okay kid, here’s the deal.” He stated, pointing with his free hand at Oda. “The work is shit and the pay is worse, but I need manpower and beggars can’t be choosers . If you’re willing to work I am willing to not ask questions, as a thank you for saving Nishimura. Sound good?”
“Yes sir.” Oda replied.
“Ah so you do speak. Great. So go find Nishimura, he'll sort you out. Now get.” he barked, shooing Oda away with his hand.
As he left the office, closing the door behind him, Oda looked up to see the man called Nishimura leaning against the wall waiting for him.
“So?” He asked expectantly.
“You have to sort me out.” Oda replied flatly.
“Excellent. It would be my pleasure. First we should head over to see Matsumoto, then we should probably go to Honda’s office, otherwise you will never get paid. Then I can take you to the sorting office to meet the guys there. Hey if you’re not busy after that you should come for a drink and I will introduce you to the guys at the bar.”
“Writing novels is writing people..” Oda whispered to himself as Nishimura continued to ramble on.
“Eh?” Nishimure asked, unsure if he had actually heard Oda speak..
“Oh nothing,” Oda replied. “Carry on.”