Chapter Text
“I don’t have time for this,” you declare pointedly, swiping an open book from under Naomasa’s anxious hands and stuffing it back where it belongs. “Can’t you see?”
“This could help-”
“Honestly,” you cut him off again, waving at the whole store around you, “does it look like I need your help?”
“Yes,” he breathes out, and you glare at him.
“Listen,” he pulls something out of his coat pocket. It crinkles loudly, and you know, just from the sight of the silvery package, what that means.
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.” He deposits the package onto the counter where it sits, oh so innocently and yet so obviously. It could be screaming, really.
“You mean it?”
“Yes.”
You huff and dust off another corner, hoping it will distract you from the package. It doesn’t. It’s almost as if you can smell them, though that should be impossible.
“Did you get Makoto to buy them?”
“Hell no, she has no clue.”
You sigh, finally turning. “Fine,” you glare at your cousin. “I’ll take your bribe.”
“Don’t call it that.”
You scoff and grab the package, rip it open at the seam, and look inside. He didn’t spare any expense. Dozens upon dozens of fancy, very expensive, and toe-curlingly delicious licorice bonbons are looking back at you. You take one and pop it into your mouth, sighing at the taste. Yes. You deserve that.
“It’s important that you don’t call it that, okay?” Naomasa repeats again, with more emphasis this time.
“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “Send your guy over. I’ll allow him to work here for a week. If he doesn’t want to quit by then, he can stay.”
“You’re not going to make this harder for him than it already is, right?”
You snort. “For what do you take me?”
“I know you.”
“Boo.”
Naomasa sighs but puts his hat back on, moving toward the door. “Just try to be nice.”
- - -
His skin is itching. Right on top of his collarbone, too.
Annoyed, Tenko rubs over the skin. It does not get better.
“Don’t scratch yourself,” he tells himself quietly when he hears no one else say it. It’s weird, doing this alone, without Yagi or Kurogiri or Spinner or maybe even this Tsukauchi guy.
It’s not that far, he’s figured out. If he’s doing a quick pace, he can get there in less than thirty minutes on foot, or take two different buses and be there in ten.
Just like the clinic he lives in, this place is situated on the outskirts of the city, and he looks up at the trees as he passes them, surprised to see this much green at this time of the year. It has been a warm March.
Tenko stops at the corner of the street, staring across.
“Happy End,” the little sign above the door says. Ducking into the hood of his jacket, he walks over and spies into the windows.
So many books. He doubts they have pictures inside them.
“Dosto- Dostoye- What the hell is that name?” He mutters to himself, trying to get it out. Is that a magic spell?
“Can I help you?” A face on the other side of the window asks, and he flinches back, hands pulled up.
It’s a woman. You look annoyed and tired, like you haven’t slept in a while.
“I- Uh, I-” He gestures.
You walk away, and Tenko thinks he’s safe until you open the door just a few feet away from him. “You’ve been staring at Crime and Punishment for a while. Can I help you?”
“What’s this guy’s deal?” He scuffs his shoe across the pavement. “Was he a villain?”
“Who? Dostoyevsky? I don’t think so. He was sentenced to death, but they commuted the sentence at the last minute.”
“Really?” He eyes the book for a minute. It looks really thick. Ugh. “Weird name.”
“Mhm.” There’s a pause. Then. “Are you Shimura?”
He pulls his shoulders up. “What if I am?”
“You’d be early.”
Panicked, Tenko checks his watch. True, he’s still got five minutes before he’s supposed to be here.
“So?”
“You wanna come inside, or do you want to look into the other windows as well?”
“No, they’re boring.”
Something flashes over your face, too fast to catch it. “Are you trying to get hired or-?”
“I’m just telling the truth.”
“Well, you can come in and tell the truth, too, Mister. It’s cold out.”
“It’s not.”
Annoyed, you cross your arms over your chest. The skin on your forearms is prickly, a million goosebumps rising. Maybe it is cold.
“Can I come in?”
You step to the side without another word, and he shuffles inside, awkward and uncomfortable and so ready to get lost again.
He hates looking for jobs. Hates it, hates it, hates it.
Something pink skitters over the floor right in front of him. It looks like an uncooked chicken, and he freaks, stepping back.
“What?” You ask from behind him.
“A chicken!”
“That’s Pollo,” you snarl. “Don’t step on her.”
“You’ve got a naked chicken as a pet?”
“What? No. That’s my cat.”
“That’s a cat?!”
“Yes,” you step around him. It’s almost impossible in the tight space. There are a few tables with chairs, but every spare inch of this room seems to be stuffed with books. He’s getting overwhelmed just being in here.
Suddenly, you’re back in his face, the uncooked chicken thing in your arms. It does have a cat face, though it doesn’t look happy to see him.
“This is Pollo. If you work here, you need to know that she’s not allowed to go outside, because it’s too cold outside.”
Pollo mewls loudly.
“Offer her your hand.”
“What?”
“Offer her your hand,” you repeat again, nodding to his hands. “She wants to sniff it, so she knows who you are. This is how you introduce yourself to a cat.”
“What if she bites me?”
“She just ate, you’ll be fine.”
Hesitating, he stretches out his hand. Pollo sniffs it, her nose tapping his finger at some point. It’s weirdly cold and moist. Then, almost too suddenly, she pulls back and vibrates, the sound loud and foreign in this quiet room.
“She likes you,” you sound surprised. “That’s a good sign.”
“She’s vibrating.”
“That means she likes you. You’ve never had a Sphinx Cat?”
“I’ve never had a cat.”
You hesitate for a second. “Do you wanna hold her? She’s a princess, but since she likes you, she might.”
“Uh,” you’ve already dropped the cat into his arms. Now, on closer inspection, he can tell that the cat is wearing a knitted sweater. It’s almost as pink as her skin, which is a weird choice, but maybe she needs it to camouflage, who knows?
Pollo continues to vibrate loudly, pressing her naked head into his arm. She’s warm. And soft.
“Why did you name her Pollo?” Tenko asks, still a little confused. You turn back to him, surprise on your face.
“Oh, well, I got her… I got her from a shelter, and they thought she looked like a chicken, so they named her Chicken. Pollo means Chicken in Mexican, I think.”
“Why not name her Chicken then?”
“I didn’t ask. She responds to the name, so I kept it.”
-
For the next hour, he follows you around, Pollo vibrating in his arms. She’s loud and she’s persistent, mewling when he walks a little too fast or digging her claws into his arms when he bends forward to look at something.
“We don’t have that many sales this time of year,” you admit. “Well, at least not direct sales. We supply a few schools, which helps to keep us alive, but it’s mostly quiet in here. You can use your time to read when no one’s here and your other duties are done.”
“Do you have Manga?”
Your face scrunches up. “What?”
“Manga. Do you have any?”
“We’re a bookstore.”
“I know,” Tenko looks at you like you’re stupid. “A Manga is a book, no?”
“No, we don’t have Manga,” you tell him. “We have the classics.”
“And no one buys that.”
You flinch. “Look,” you say, your voice tense, “you don’t have to work here.”
“I kinda do.”
“What?”
“I kinda do have to work here. No one else is hiring.”
“Maybe because you’re shitting all over my business and you’re not even hired yet.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“You could be less honest.”
“Oh, so now I’m supposed to lie?”
“Forget it,” you pinch your nose. “Do you only read Manga?”
“Well, yeah. If I read something, it’s Manga.”
You scoff. “Tell you what. You get to pick one Manga for the store to sell at the end of each week. Does that sound good?”
“Sure,” Tenko responds. Now he really knows you’re stupid. One Manga. That’s like a hundred books each. How many does One Piece have?
“And I get to pick one book you read at the beginning of the week. It’s going to be quiet here, so you might as well try my selection.”
“Do I have to?”
“Would you rather stare at the wall instead for eight hours a day?”
He considers this. “What book are you thinking?”
-
Kurogiri blinks back at him from the stove when he returns, something smelling like curry bubbling in the pot.
“How was it?”
“Exhausting.” Tenko drops like a log onto their Couch, hoping sleep will take him away until Dinner is ready. But no, not today.
“You got the job?”
“Hm?” He turns to squint at Kurogiri. “What?”
“Did you get the job?”
Tenko thinks back. You didn’t say he didn’t.
“Yeah, I… I guess I did.”
Kurogiri claps his hands. “That is exciting news. I will make us a special dessert. Do you want to call Yagi-san while I cook?”
“Sure, why not?” He yawns, getting up again.
Despite his “excellent behavior” since helping to bring All For One down and his even better behavior since moving in with Kurogiri and Spinner in this assisted living facility, he still hasn’t gotten a phone. Well, he has one, he just never brings it outside.
It’s useless anyway. If he ever gets lost, he can walk up to any police officer and tell them who he is and where he’s supposed to go, not to mention that he’s rarely alone outside anyway. Well, today was an exception.
It’s one of those really old phones with buttons for numbers, one that doesn’t connect to the internet, and whose number only a few people have. Like Kurogiri, Spinner or Yagi-san.
“I am here!” Yagi-san greets him over the phone, and Tenko scoffs, like he always does.
“I got the job.”
“Congratulations! I knew you could do it!”
“Mhm,” he bites down on the edge of his thumb, nibbling on the skin there. “It’s a weird bookstore. They have no Manga.”
“Well, it’s a great chance for you. I’ll come by this week and purchase something.”
“No, don’t.” He groans. “My boss will know you’re coming because of me. That’s so cringe.”
“But I want to support you.”
Tenko considers that. It would be nice to show what a good worker he is.
“You could come and mention how much you’d like to purchase some Manga. That would show them that they need to order some.”
Yagi-san sighs. “I do not know any Manga.”
“Fine,” Tenko huffs out a sigh. “I’ll ask Midoriya to order Manga. He knows some. You can order… something different.” And then, just like that, he remembers something. “They have a cat.”
“Who?”
“My boss. The store owner, I think. It looks like an uncooked chicken.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and it wears sweaters. Oh,” Tenko sits up a little straighter. “Does Inko know how to knit?”
-
They celebrate quietly that night.
Midoriya calls after Dinner, almost crying on the phone from how happy he is.
Tenko knows he shouldn’t worry about it too much, not with a baby on the way and all the other stuff he has to do, but it’s nice, kinda, to know people care about him so much.
“Mario Kart?” Spinner offers after the Dishes are done, stretching a little. “I could smoke you, for sure.”
They don’t play for too long.
They all have to get up early tomorrow. Leave for work.
Tenko too. It’s the first time in his life, and he thinks about that for a long time before he falls asleep