Say a Little Prayer
Date: Sunday, Feburary 5th
Time: Morning
Place: Cafe la Croix in the North Quarter
Characters: Soujirou, Sanosuke
Sou
Blackmail was a refined art. Especially in this day and age. You had to know just enough of the deepest darkest secrets of your target, which took more time than would be expected. Most of the deepest darkest secrets were plastered over the internet for anyone to see and to believe. No, the truly evil ones were locked away. How fortunate, then, Soujirou had a key. He just had to get it.
The waitress came, slow as ever, with his latte. He sipped it and made a face.
"It's cold," he told her. "Take it back. I won't pay for it."
Bastard, her face said, but she only smiled the wire thin smile of someone about to go off and quit in a flurry of screaming and smashed monitors. How wonderful. He smiled to himself and folded one leg over the other, propping his chin on his fist. Waiting.
Always waiting.
It was so incredibly boring.
Sano
Gads, Sano had been on another bender last night. Must have tried every brand of sake in that dive. And now he had pressure behind his eye-balls and his head felt like it was one minute to midnight in a pumpkin smashing contest. But he needed to sober up. No reason. Just that it was very distasteful to think of himself as a perpetual drunk. Everybody should have a sober hour or two, or half hour.
He practically stumbled into the coffee shop, sliding into the first booth he saw in front of him. Wouldn't do to sit in a chair this morning, he'd just fall off of it. His balance wasn't the best. Well, hell, if he did fall off, he wouldn't hurt himself, 'cause he was strong…yes, sir..ee… S T R O N G, hung over and feeling like he'd been run over by a truck, one with dual wheels in back.
And he wasn't strong, he was weak. Why did he survive and the others didn't? He wasn't the best, he wasn't the worst, and he wondered which god above assigned him to this fate. His brothers in arms were gone. Well, most of them were. Only 5 out of 30 survived.
A waitress sauntered by, one hand on her hip, order pad in her other hand. "What 'cha want?" she drawled.
With blood shot eyes, he gazed up at her and said, "Grande, double shot, black."
Sou
Well now, wasn't this interesting? Soujirou watched as the man walked...no...fairly stumbled inside, letting in a gust of cool wind as he did so. His clothes were rumpled, his eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of booze and desperation. How odd then that he sat right down on the pristine plastic seat of the booth and ordered a cup of coffee from the waitress who looked to be throwing up in her mouth. Not that Soujirou blamed her.
He stared at the man, taking in the broad shoulders and the pull of muscle under his clothes. He hadn't been a piss stained alcoholic for long, then. His face was shadowed but his form was still good. It would start to slide eventually and then he would either be thin and haggard, waiting for his next hit, or a bloated corpse after he threw himself in the river.
He checked his cell for the time, a spark of annoyance flitting through him as he realized Tabata was late. How unfortunate. Utterly bored, Soujirou stood, moved to the booth the man was sitting in, and slid across from him, trying not to breathe through his nose.
"Please let me pay for your drink," Soujirou said. "It's not very often I meet a man as brave as you."
Sano
The heck? Sano thought.
What did the twerp think he was doing sitting down in this private booth, Sano's fuzzy mind responded.
"Buzz off twerp…don't have time for anybody who spews garbage like that."
Nothin' brave about surviving by pure chance, he added to himself.
Sou
Twerp? Garbage? Coming from him? It was amusing and yet, somewhat horrifying. He must be still drunk to think something like that. Soujirou smiled, mostly because he still didn't know this cretin and accepted his now appropriately hot latte and remained planted just where he was.
"Don't sell yourself short," Soujirou said lightly. Warmly. "After all, anyone who has the nerve to come into a high class cafe, half-drunk and smelling like he crawled out of a cess-pit, must be brave."
Soujirou blew on his latte and regarded the man as if he was reconsidering his own statement.
"Or incredibly stupid," he added, taking a sip.
Sano
"Take you pick, bud," Sano replied. There was no way this baby was going to bait him, not unless he wanted to be baited.
The waitress arrived with his joe, and he took a sip off the top. At least it was strong and hot.
Sou
Interesting reaction. Very interesting. Especially for a drunk. Even more especially since he didn't seem to be the type to be a mellow drunk and he wasn't happy enough to be a happy drunk. So what was his deal? Why did he come here? Did he really not know or did he really not care? Soujirou wasn't sure what answer intrigued him more.
The quiet opening melody of "Hallucination" rang through the air as Tabata texted him. Soujirou quickly texted him back to bug off and also that he was fired unless he wanted to cut off a right pinky, and then turned back toward the interesting, if incredibly disgusting, drunk.
"So do you have a name and a story to go with that grumpy visage or do I have to make one up?"
Sano
Pesky little bugger wasn't he? Didn't seem to get the hint that Sano was doing his best to give the kid the brush off. The ex-special op was in no mood to make small talk with anyone, least of all someone who came across as a snot-nosed brat, a nosey one at that.
Sano smirked at the kid's last comment. Now there was an idea.
"Suit yourself, kid," Sano let out after another sip of coffee.
"Make somethin' up," fiction was often better than reality, and Sano would love to change his reality to something else.
Sou
Hmm. A challenge. Soujirou rested his chin on the backs of laced fingers and looked at the man, trying to get some sense of who he was. Normally he'd ask to read the man's palm to see if there were calluses on his fingers for calluses, but that would require touching him and while he wasn't bad looking per se, drunks made Soujirou's skin crawl.
So without the whole touching thing...What was there?
"You're an ex military or bodyguard," Soujirou started. Since he looked as if he worked out, but seemed too careless of his body to work out to look good. And while he had a slight air of authority, it was nothing like the piercing, stiff presence of the police and while he could be a bouncer, most would be in bed by now and not stone cold drunk at 10 in the morning.
"And you were forced to do something absolutely horrible." Since wasn't that the usual predictable way it went in dramas? If Soujirou wasn't careful he'd end up boring himself and that was unforgivable.
"So unable to stand the sight of yourself, and believe me, I don't blame you, you drink to forget your pathetic misery while killing your liver in the process. Furthermore you live to annoy people better than you."
Soujirou took another sip of the latte, licking the foam off his upper lip.
"Oh, and your name is Ahou-chan."
Sano
Damn if the kid didn't hit a few nails on the head. But Sano doubted it was because of any 'inside knowledge' that the squirt might possess. However, one never really knew in these times.
Military and crime-syndicates had far reaching fingers; circumstances and people were often not what they seemed to be.
Sano was sorely tempted just to stare at the kid and keep his mouth shut. What prompted him to answer was beyond him.
"Maybe… to all, some, or none of the above, and whatever you decide to call me...I won't answer to it."
Sou
Oh really. How utterly boring. How utterly confusing. To be so drunk that he didn't even have the decency to bathe before coming into a fine establishment. Well...moderately fine by the drunk's standards anyway. And yet not caring what he was called. He was either the most assured drunk Soujirou had ever met or so filled with self-loathing that it didn't really matter.
Either way, it was mildly irritating not to know.
"I suppose a decent name would be above your pay-grade," Soujirou said, leaning his chin on his fist. "Do you even have a pay-grade? Or are you just drinking away your life savings like some tragic hero out of a crime novel?"
Sano
"What's it to you, punk, what I do or why I'm doing it?" Sano spat out.
He couldn't believe how brazen the kid was. Most likely he was some spoiled rich kid who got his kicks by poking at anybody he figured was beneath his class.
"Unless you get some perverted kick out of bugging people."
Sou
"Let's just say I do," Soujirou said, undaunted. If the drunk thought Soujirou was going to give up he had another thing coming. As smelly and irritating as the drunk was, he was the most interesting thing that had come around here in a while. After all, Soujirou couldn't go to the underground every week so it was pleasant when some of the detritus of those dirty streets lurched up to him.
"So feed my perversion. Anyway, you look strong. If you're actually worth something I might have a job for you. Something that would keep you in booze for a while." If he survived it that was.
Sano
Sano continued to sip on his coffee all through the practically one-sided exchange with the brazen young man. Not often a kid would talk to a drunk out of the goodness of his heart, or some misplaced 'hope for humanity' scenario.
The former government special op had figured the kid right. He *was* some sort of pervert.
His coffee now cool enough to chug what remained in the cup, Sano did just that before speaking again.
"I've had more than my share of encounters with perverts in this life, and I don't care to have any more."
With that, Sano stretched his arms, yawning, preparing to split. At least the java was waking him up and for some reason the pressure behind his eyes wasn't so bad. Ever since that drug trial gone bad several weeks ago, it seemed like he recovered from drinking benders a little faster than usual.
Sou
"Oh come on," Soujirou said. He was actively trying to be as irritating as possible. "Can't you be the least bit interesting? Do you have to have no personality other than dodging my questions?"
He picked up his phone and flicked it on, turning on the mirror app so that he could see himself and raked his fingers through his bangs, straightening them. Ugh. He looked awful. The lighting in here was crap. His skin was so sallow and his hair was dull. He looked so damn plain.
"Why does everyone have to be so boring? Is it too much to ask for someone to be interesting? If I'm not sitting around bored out of my skull, I'm at school listening to whining students complaining about how they can't flunk this course. The bastards." Was that a zit forming? It had better not be.
"And then you have to be completely obnoxious." He made a face at the drunk. "Are you always this way or did you just pick today to be nasty?"
Sano
Wow, was Sano imagining things or what? Was the squirt getting irritated?
The ex op really couldn't tell for sure. But in Sano's mind the kid was due for a little payback. After his obnoxious chit chatter, especially when Sano just wanted to drink his coffee in peace, the brat needed to get irritated, 'cause he *was* too irritating for his own good.
Sano actually barked out a laugh or two when he saw the kid primping in his phone mirror. 'What a little self-centered baby' was the first thing that came to mind. The now-sobering drunk shook his head in amusement when his table partner revealed a college back ground. Ah, must be a preppie, boy. Now a few things made sense, especially with all the comments about being bored.
Yep, rich, spoiled, college boy…who loved harassing somebody, who looked down and out, just to get his perverted kicks.
"Hey, kid," the older man drawled, "get yourself a tape recorder; that way somebody will be listen'in to yah."
Sano then rose up from the bench seat, getting ready to leave.
Sou
Get a tape recorder and... Get a tape recorder and... Soujirou glared up at him. Wishing he could- Wanting to just- He realized he was squeezing his phone and shut it so the plastic wouldn't crack. He already had one of those. He had plenty of those. He heard his voice every single goddamned day.
That-
wasn't-
the point.
Soujirou stood, trembling, heat coursing and snapping through his veins. So the bastard didn't want to take him seriously? Fine! Fine!
"Don't go yet, you still look like you could use a pick me up," Soujirou said, his voice tight with rage. "Have some of mine." And he picked up his still hot latte and splashed it on the bastard's clothes.
"Even if you're not thirsty, at least you'll smell better."
Sano
Heh…thought the older man.
If the kid squeezed his phone any tighter, Sano was sure it would bleed.
The ex-op was quite pleased with himself. The brat was trembling now. This game where Sano had been a very unwilling participant was almost over, Sano could feel it.
A bit more jabbering from the brat about picking something up , then the words, "Have some of mine"rang through the air before Sano was hit with something wet and hot, very hot.
Dang, what *was* that kid thinking? Did he have a death wish or something? Sano twisted his lips; he was just going to grin and bear it. In the service he'd been through worse.
He took a breath, trying to focus his mind away from his stinging chest before replying,
"Sorry, kid, but I don't do lattes."
With that, he turned and walked out of the coffee shop and back to his apartment, wondering why he hadn't thrown the kid through one of the café's front windows.
But Sano had won this round, and he had hardly said a thing, and never raised a hand in anger. Felt good to have won *something*; it was about time, too.
Sou
"Sorry, kid, I don't do lattes,"the man said and the waitress laughed. Soujirou's ears burned as the man walked right by him as if it didn't matter. As if he didn't care. Who the hell did he think he was? Soujirou clenched his trembling hands into fists, white hot anger gripping at his intestines. He just left- Just like that-
He wasn't worth it. Foul bastard. Soujirou hoped he got run over by a bus. He grabbed his phone and pressed the mirror app again, combing his fingers through hair, trying to ignore the smell of latte in the air, and on his shoes.
On his shoes. That bastard.
No, wasn't worth it. He was just another boring asshole. That was all. Soujirou jammed his phone in his pocket and went to pay the waitress who kept smirking at him like she knew something he didn't.
"No thanks," she said. "I'll cover you. The show was worth it." He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Take," he said, slowly and carefully just in case she was too incredibly stupid to comprehend. "My money."
She looked him up and down, smirked and went into the back room. Soujirou tasted blood. He was biting his lip. Shit! He unlocked his jaw and gingerly felt at his lip. No cuts. Still perfect.
That stupid man had him all out of sorts. It was time to go and find something. Anything.
Tabata came in just as he was going out and frowned at him, obviously not having checked his phone because the alternative meant that the man had ignored it and come anyway and that was unforgivable.
"I couldn't find anything on the guy," Tabata said, wiping a hand over his sweaty balding head. Soujirou recoiled. Why did he have to be so damn ugly? The news was also irritating enough to set his teeth on edge.
"Pardon?" Soujirou said, voice cold.
"He was clean, young master. I swear my life. Now why don't we go home and-" the man touched Soujirou's sleeve. Soujirou glared at him until that hand was removed and then flicked the presence off with the back of his fingers.
"I'm not going home tonight," he said, putting on his sunglasses before pulling on his jacket and heading out the door.
"But...but your mother!" Tabata said, a shrieky little hen chasing after him.
"She can go to hell," he said. He'd told her he'd never be caught dead at another one of her little drinking parties and in the end, it didn't matter. Once the tequila started flowing she wouldn't even notice he wasn't there.
To see where Sagara Sanosuke went next please go to this story on our profile page: A Hard Morning After a Long Night