Chapter Text
"I miss when this was a bowling alley," Daigo says as they walk past a large building with red trim on the edge of Theater Square. There's a Smile Burger in one part of it, and glancing through the big windows reveals that the inside of the larger part is divided up into a few different venues. There are signs for a Chinese restaurant as well as a gym.
Zhao smiles faintly. "I didn't know you liked bowling."
Daigo shrugs. "I don't mind it, but it was mostly just a nice place to hang out and kill time. You could challenge the staff to a game, too, if the place wasn't busy. It was really popular with a lot of chinpira back in the day because it was cheap and the bosses didn't really care what they got up to at a bowling alley."
Zhao strokes his chin, a sort of far-off look coming over his face. Daigo nudges him after a minute. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.
"Chinpira Daigo," Zhao muses. "were you one of the ones in a gaudy suit? How bad was it?"
Daigo laughs through his nose. "No gaudy suits here. I joined my father's family, so there was an expectation for me to look the part. That, and my mother would never let me dress like a punk. I never liked wearing suits, though. I was rebellious."
Zhao nods. "I noticed you prefer comfortable casual clothes. No visible logos or names, but a clear leaning towards quality and designer. Nothing high effort, but nice enough to look well put together." Daigo gives him a look, and he blushes slightly. "I might've... gone poking around to see what you liked so that I'd have some gift ideas, if I needed them."
"That's... really sweet," Daigo says, taking his hand.
Zhao's blush darkens and Daigo laughs. "If you want a punk, you should've seen me around like... 2006," Daigo says, "before I was Chairman. I'd just done five years in prison on weapons charges because I started something with a guy out of Osaka who had significantly more weight to throw around than I had soaking wet. I was angry with everyone and everything and I dressed the part. Mostly black, sullen expression, leather pants..."
Zhao perks up. "Do you still have the leather pants?"
"I might," Daigo replies with a wry smirk. "They might even still fit."
He pretends not to notice as Zhao tugs him along a little faster.