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The line was almost out the door and Uramichi tried multiple times to convince Usahara to pick a different restaurant, but the blond was set. His hungover brain only wanted one thing: KFC.
The moment they woke up sprawled on top of each other and he saw Usahara’s pouty sleeping face, he knew that they may have overdone it last night. They’d gone out after work like they usually do to their favorite bar. Usahara’d gotten a little too handsy, so they went home only to crack open a couple more beers… Then there was his blond making those faces and being all drunkenly sincere. How could Uramichi possibly resist?!
So, talking turned to kissing and that turned into what you might expect and now they’re waiting in a long ass line for buckets of chicken because apparently it was ‘all your fault, Uramichi! You should’ve stopped me!’
He looked out at the busy sidewalk. Bodies rushed around, all consumed in their own lives, their own troubles.
He didn’t like crowds. He got the urge to smoke, but two things stopped him. One being, once again how busy the street was. He wouldn’t be able to find any space outside where he wouldn’t bother other people. And two, Usahara didn’t like it. The blond was a worrier, especially over Uramichi and his health. So, Uramichi was trying to quit. It certainly isn’t easy when he gets anxious like right now.
Usahara suddenly grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. Of course he could tell.
“I promise this chicken will be worth it.” He said reassuringly with a toothy grin. “If you want, we can just take it home to eat it.” They were nearing the front of the line.
Uramichi’s chest tightened at that, “No, cause then your fries will get all soggy.” And he’ll whine about it. “I’m fine.” He gives his boyfriend’s hand a squeeze of his own.
Usahara lit up, “Yeah I really don’t like soggy fries.” He lays his head against Uramichi’s shoulder.
“Next in line.” The man at the register calls to them.
It’s not long until Usahara is happily munching away at his fried chicken, making obscene noises of pleasure that have the brunette shaking his head. They got a table next to the front window and watched as the crowds of people walked around.
Uramichi tries a bite of his chicken sandwich and has to admit it’s pretty good, “Not bad,” he says.
“That what I’ve been telling ya!”
They eat in peace as Usahara finds a hundred and one things to talk about, Uramichi contently listening and adding his two sense when necessary, when something distracts the blond.
“I know part of the fun is not knowing which character you’re going to get, but don’t they get how people get about Sanrio characters!? Everyone has a favorite! If I’m spending 3.9k yen on a figurine, just to get Hangyodon instead of Usahana, I should be able to get at least two more tries! Actually, since- woah you see those two?” the blond suddenly points out the window. (Didn’t his mother teach him its rude to point?)
The shift in Usahara’s monologue takes Uramichi off guard. He doesn’t see what he’s pointing to at first. He scans the sea of pedestrians.
“Those two who stopped.” Usahara explains as Uramichi smacks his hand away from the window. “The guy with the white hair, damn what toner does he use? And the other one with the long, dark hair.”
Eventually Uramichi spots the two people Usahara was suddenly invested in. Two high school students, one in an unfamiliar uniform. They were talking to each other, but there was a large gap between them. The people flowed around them like they were merely obstacles.
Was it a street performance?
The guy with the white hair looked angry at the other guy. He started yelling something, but they couldn’t hear through the window. Usahara put a hand over his mouth watching whatever it was unfold. “I think they’re arguing,” he states.
Uramichi, on the other hand, took another bite of his sandwich.
The dark-haired kid seemed to remain calm, and slowly turned to face his angry counterpart. He started talking, whatever it was shocked the other guy, until he finally turned back around and started walking away.
The white-haired kid threw up his hands as Usahara gasped, “No! He’s leaving mid-argument!” Uramichi was just confused. Was he reaching out to stop him? But why like that? Why not run over to him?
The melodrama of kids these days. It’s probably due to all the anime they watch.
Hashing out their issues on the busy street is definitely a choice, but then again they are just kids. Uramichi feels for them, but without context it hardly affected him.
Now Usahara was a different story. He is a worrier, remember?
“Go after him, white-haired dude!” he cheered on the kid still standing in front of the window, having no idea they were watching him. “You love him don’t you!” He looked like he might cry.
Okay he’s taking some liberties now, filling in the blanks with his own storyline. “I hardly think that what’s going on.”
Usahara glares at him then, “Of course that’s what’s going on. Did you even see the hurt in their faces? We just watched an emotional breakup between high school sweethearts while eating fried chicken!”
Now why’d he bring up the fried chicken?
The white-haired kid turns the other way and runs down the street. “Awe no! Poor guy!” he cries out. “Uramichi, this is so sad!” Usahara looks down at his chicken and sadly takes a bite.
How could this have affected him so much? They’d never seen these kids before and probably never will again. “I’m sure they’ll be okay.” He finds himself saying, rubbing his hand over the blond’s shoulder. No matter the ridiculous reason, he couldn’t stand seeing him so upset. Usahara had really turned him into a sap. “Do you want the rest of my fries?”
And just like that the blond smiles again, albeit weakly, noticing Uramichi putting in the effort. “Don’t mind if I do!”