19

Tears

Tatsumi Oga sat at his usual seat in the Devil's Den bar, annoyed at the petite orange haired woman trying to cling onto him. Oga hoped that ignoring her while nursing his drink, would drop a few hints or at least bore her enough to move on, but it only excited her more. "Oh? Strong, silent type, huh? Just my type." She reeked of alcohol. When the orange haired woman giggled too closely to Oga's face, his last nerve tapped out. "You're nowhere near my type. Scram."

"Ugh! Rude bastard!"

"You could've handled that better."

Oga smirked at the silver haired bartender polishing a shot glass with disapproving frown. "I tried. But she kept insisting on her own."

"I suppose you're right, but she did start to cry. I don't understand why you keep coming here, when you can just drink in peace at home. You know everyone's going to hit on you."

Oga took a seemingly pensive sip of his whiskey.

"Not everyone hits on me."

"Yeah, right," the silvernette gave Oga a quick smile that heated Oga's blood, "Name one person in this bar that hasn't."

Oga stared at the amber liquid in his cool glass. He swirled the glass so that the bottom glided across polished wood in circular motions. With that same smirk on his lips, Oga answered, "What do I get if I answer correctly?"

The bartender laughed and kept on grinning. Almost there.

"How about drinks on the house?"

"Nah. How about I pick out my own prize?"

The bartender nodded, secure in his imaginative win. The action caused his name badge to flash in the dimly lit bar. Furuichi.

"Alright," Oga swiveled around in his chair and made a show of picking random people in the bar. Of course, Furuichi was always quick to point out that each person had hit on the brunet at some point. Time passed and Oga feigned defeat. "Ah," the brunet slumped in his bar stool, "I guess almost everyone has hit on me sometime or another."

"'Almost'? You couldn't point to one person in the span of thirty minutes!"

"Well, I was only looking at half the bar."

"What are you talking about? There isn't anyone left."

Oga threw back the last of his drink, pulled out enough yen to cover his bill and then some. Grinning even harder than before, Oga asked, "What time are you off?"

"What? Why?"

"Because I answered correctly and now I want my reward."

"But you didn't...oh."

Oga rested his head on his left fist and lifted a lazy finger toward the blushing silver headed bartender.