I'm still determined to write this despite the disappointing amount of reviews! If you're reading this, why not leave me some love(or even hate) for my story? Thanks to those who've added this to their favorites and alerts, that means a lot too. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the third chapter or Simply Diseased as much as I enjoyed writing it.
~KC
Byoki lay on the cold, tiled flooring, every malnourished muscle in her body pulsing with a dull yet searing pain. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so out of breath. Though she really wasn't tending to many people, Byoki wasn't used to such activity. She glanced at the clock with a happy sigh, only thirty minutes remained before her shift ended.
"Well, seeing as you don't have the money, I will allow you to work off your debt." the owner of Russian Sushi, a gray haired man who shared the same accent as Simon, pushed a blue and white frock over the sushi bar to Byoki. The young woman had wrapped yet another bandage about her, this one traveling across her forehead. It was stained with fresh blood and the wound beneath it was deep despite being small. A wayward shard of glass had sliced her while she was being helped off a startled couple's table. Luckily, the only markings on her back were pieces of rice and raw fish.
"Of course. Again, I am unexplainably sorry about this entire ordeal. It was completely my fault, I'm new to Ikebukuro and everything started happening at one time... I'm really sorry!" Byoki's face tinted with dark scarlet as she spoke. It was her first real day in the city and she'd already managed to destroy something. Now she'd missed an interview with a maid cafe and, seeing as waitress salaries are quite low, probably wouldn't be able to pay rent. But, it was her fault for being so skittish. Byoki hugged the uniform to her chest with an uneven sigh. She stood to bow at the elderly foreign man, feeling an unexplainable amount of embarrassment crash down on her shoulders.
"Come back at six. You'll work until ten thirty, clean up, and close the shop. There's a key with your uniform, Sunday is your day off, and we'll send you on delivery when necessary." he remarked, watching Byoki bite her lip with apprehension. She nodded obediently before pivoting on her heels and headed out the door.
The ring of a bell brought her back to a standing position. Byoki teetered on her slick, bare feet, pausing to catch her breath before stepping out of Russian Sushi's well-stocked storeroom. She plucked a thin square plate off the bar and looked around, clueless. If only she'd kept better watch over whom she was serving. Byoki nervously offered the food to a group of innocent looking students in hopes they were the correct customers. She skirted over to the next table after grabbing two handleless, blue teacups and a kettle of green tea. The woman removed a thick red pen from between her ear and skull and tugged a yellow notepad out of her uniform. Normally, someone working with so few customers wouldn't need anything to keep track of orders, but Byoki was so easily overwhelmed she liked to keep things organized. She shook the loose strands of hair from her forehead and put on a smile before looking up to take orders.
A man, easily in his early twenties, pulled a pair of cobalt tinted sunglasses from the bridge of his nose. He had messy hair of light blonde, as if someone had poured a carton of bleach over his head. It fell into a pair of caramel colored eyes which held much kinder feelings than the cold blue glasses sitting beside him. His face was masculine and strong, yet unscathed by any hint of blemishes current or otherwise. He was dressed in a standard bartender's suit, a black vest and bow tie draped over a thin white shirt and straight legged sable pants. This thoroughly revealed his strong physique, toned and attractive. But Byoki was most taken back by his height. She wasn't sure whether he was extremely lengthy, she was extremely short, or it was a disappointing combination of the two. Either way, he was nearly taller than her sitting down.
Byoki felt a sudden jolt of nervousness ripple through her entrails, one that she hadn't felt in many years. It was strange, so much so she wasn't sure if it was ailment or joy. Her palms began to tremor and ooze lightly with perspiration in a manner that left Byoki baffled and confused. She wiped her hands on the loose fitting outfit, glancing up to see the young man staring straight at her.
"W-what can I get you?" she stuttered, poising a thick red pen above a pad of paper with an unsteady hand.
"Something cheap..." a gruff voice answered. The young man turned his attention back to the miraculously replaced window. Byoki had been endlessly surprised by the speed at which a perfectly cut sheet of glass and a team of workers had arrived to fix her mistake. Now, you wouldn't have even known it had been broken earlier that day. However, having the restoration occur so promptly meant Byoki would be working for a bit longer than she should. She felt so ashamed for doing such a thing she would gladly work at Russian Sushi for the rest of her life in hopes of finding redemption.
"Tea?" Byoki pointed to the kettle kindly. He waved his hand absentmindedly as if to ask 'Why not?' without actually speaking. She rested her gangly fingers on the side of the metal cylinder and frowned. It was far too chilled to taste correct. Silently, she cursed herself for not being better at keeping things in order. She kept a record of all the food made and still couldn't remember which table asked for what. Byoki disappeared behind a thick, velvet curtain and came back about ten minutes later with a fresh, steaming, pot of green tea. On her way to the table she asked the chef to prepare a meal that happened to be the exact opposite of what the man requested. He looked so lonely from where Byoki stood, solemn and silent as he waited for someone or something to come or happen. There was an angry yet longing look plastered upon him that, with any luck, she would be able to cure. After being violent and withheld for so long, Byoki decided her new identity would act as she did before the murder. Kind, and sweet, and endlessly optimistic, never getting too upset or letting an almost nonexistent temper get the best of her.
The last few people at the bar had dispersed by now, leaving small amounts of yen for Byoki and the chef. The night had yielded a disappointing amount of tips, however. Despite unending smiles and happiness, Byoki's service was mediocre at best. She had given at least four customers the wrong order and spilt tea in quite a few unexacting laps. One man had threatened to sue, a gesture that filled Byoki with terror. The job of a waitress in such an undiscovered restaurant was not a hard one, yet it offered the young, black haired woman quite a challenge. A bell was sounded once more as the talented cook hung up his uniform. He passed a feast of sushi across the empty bar before waving and heading out the door. There was a small pile of money at the end of the wooden slab which Byoki pocketed stealthily. For some reason, she felt like a criminal when picking up the wad of crumpled bills, but put all doubt aside in hopes of paying her rent punctually that month. She also grabbed the children's payment and slid it in the cash register, selecting all extra money for herself.
"Okay... And... Ta-da!" Byoki sang, pushing four plates off her arms and onto the blonde man's table.
"Now, before you say anything, it's free of charge. My treat! I've already fucked this job up thoroughly and you looked sad, so I chose the most expensive combination on the menu for us. I'll just tell my boss some kid's pulled a dine-and-dash and it was entirely my fault. He'll be none the wiser, so go ahead and eat up! Hopefully I can keep you in good company tonight." Byoki smiled warmly at the man's bewildered expression. He looked at her in a way that was almost enraged but quickly abandoned the deep set glare. The woman shook off her small blue and white hat before deciding to discard the rest of her linen uniform as well. This revealed a black tank top which would have fit tightly over any body that wasn't hers and the same pair of sturdy black pants she'd worn earlier. On her way back home earlier, Byoki had decided she'd keep comfortable beneath the tent-like kimono instead of wearing her strict and proper violet dress shirt.
"Thanks..." the man spoke softly as Byoki slipped into the seat across from him. He was far more grateful than he let on, but he wasn't sure how to deal with kindness. People only treated him with fear or coldness, either hoping not to anger him or to pick a fight with him. But the woman before him simply grinned and picked at a few packages of raw fish, rice, and various other ingredients. She pulled her knees up to her chest as they ate, giving her an increased sense of security. Paranoia still plagued Byoki's thoughts but not so much that she was still convinced everyone was out to get here. That period of life had passed long ago in her mind, though it was truly only about four months behind her. But, now, she was simply glad that her dinner acquaintance wasn't forcing any unimportant voicing of boring topics such as the weather. In fact, they sat in stony silence until each plate had been cleared. The man was busy trying to wrap his mind around Byoki's kindness, while the woman focused on trying to remember where she'd hidden her box of first edition comic books. It was a memory of her life back in America that meant a lot to her. Byoki had been infatuated by superheroes since she was ten, impressed by men with amazing strength more than those with powers.
XxXxXxX
"Don't worry about anything; it was a pleasure having dinner with you!" Byoki stacked the last plates atop each other and set them in a sink filled with soapy water. She glanced at the tower of plates looming over her with a disgruntled frown, squirting detergent upon a dish brush in a strange display of determination.
"See you around." the blonde man removed on hand from his pockets and shot a rigid wave in her direction. He headed into the neon night of Ikebukuro, passing street performers and homeless men as he walked. Byoki scrubbed each plate choppily, hoping to get back home before color gangs came out to prey on the innocent. Slowly but surely, dirty plates began to dwindle until only a bright stack of freshly washed, back slabs lay before her. She took count quickly to make sure all utensils were accounted for as she shoved each item into it's place after giving it a quick wipe to whisk away any excess moisture. In the end, it was discovered that one of the tea cups was missing from it's cupboard. Byoki glanced over at the blonde's table, eyes met by a simple green cup and a pair of sunglasses, tinged lightly with sapphire.