Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Cenci
Written August Eighteenth, 2008
I-Pin realized one day, while frying noodles in the back room, that the reason she received the job was not because she was bilingual, or hard working, or cute. It was because she was Chinese. The steam of the hot plate made her sweat and she dribbled some more oil onto the mess, scraping it from here to there with a spatula, frowning as a piece fell off and onto the counter. There were only two employees working today on deliveries, and their little shop was getting more and more popular as time went on, even though the seasons had changed and hot food seemed like it should be hated, at the very least.
She had been hoping it was otherwise, that her friends had threatened the owner behind her back or that the people who had recommended her had lavished praise, or even that he had simply hired her because he thought she would be good for the job. Maybe it was too much to hope for, that she could get by in Japan without even this kind of prejudice. But she knew, also, that customers are interested in foreigners - whether for better or worse, it would draw them to the shop by just knowing that she worked there. Her coworkers were all lithe, young Japanese - satisfying the status quo, and about what you'd expect for part-time, summer workers. Tanned skin and perfect manners, the slightly-loose work ethic that the youth in this country seemed to possess, these days. While this isn't the job she could see herself doing for the rest of her life, it was what her Boss had wanted, and so she had agreed.
Which wasn't to say she didn't still train - it would be stupid not to, after all. Something could always come up. She liked to make visits to Hong Kong when the weather wasn't as bad as it was, once a year or twice, if she could. Mainland China was too…
Her pay would be handed to her in a small envelope with the shop's logo and address, a heavy weight of coins to total her hours and work, transferred from paper to cloth in the pocket of her pants. The owner smiling kindly, a crinkle in his eye as he thanked her and told her to invite her friends, the smiling one and that man with the bird, just like the week before. Certainly this did not change her, she was not going to quit because of such a petty thing. It was nothing compared to the training she had undergone, and by the time her regimen finished each day it was midnight and all she could think about was bed, the perfect stress-release save epileptic dancing with an armful of 7440-01-9, wages spent on water that costs nearly 814 a pop
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References to a certain fic with glowsticking-Roxas, HibarixYamamoto, HibarixDino.