Chapter Text
It started, as most things did in the store, with a fight.
On a regular day, these fights would be between Shin and Lu, squabbling over some inane thing like aprons or detergent. Heisuke and Hana had a small ranking of their own of the ‘Top 5 Most Stupid Fights Shin And Lu Have Gotten Into’, with number 5 occasionally switching between their fight over how hot a pork bun should be, and that time when Lu accidentally microwaved a soup packet and had it blow up in Shin’s face.
The number one spot was held by an incident dubbed ‘Can Opener’. No one ever really wanted to relieve that memory, except for Heisuke, who was too ignorant for his own good, and Hana, who was blissfully ignorant in the way a child should be. In Shin’s defence of the incident, Nagumo had been involved, which he personally felt should disqualify the fight because Nagumo made things 10 times more chaotic by simply existing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny Hana’s pleading eyes, especially not when paired with the increasingly creative daydreams that Mr. Sakamoto had to kill him each time he rejected Hana. A father’s love, he supposed.
All this was to say that if things went wrong in the store, Shin was usually directly involved. He wouldn’t call himself the ‘problem child’ per se, but the evidence didn’t lie. Whether he was the aggressor or woeful recipient (see: Nagumo), he was almost always involved.
Which is what made the fight this morning all the more disconcerting.
Shin didn’t exactly have the best frame of reference for what a family should look like, but he’d known that some arguing must’ve happened from time to time. Even with the best of families, like the Sakamotos, the sheer proximity to other people would make for a quarrel or two here and there. And for all her charms, Hana was still a child. She’d definitely acted out and gotten scolded before.
Still, when he pictured the Sakamotos, he couldn’t imagine them in the same way that families fought in the shows on television. No screaming matches. No throwing water at each other’s faces. No excessive scheming over the family inheritance that led to the demise of all parties involved. Even if Mr Sakamoto had once flung various convenience store foods at him, Shin didn’t think he’d ever raise a hand at his own family. He loved them too much for that.
As it turned out, though, Hana was not against such violence.
The day had begun as per normal. Shin had been the first to reach the store, and spent the better part of the hour setting it up. By the time everything was set, Lu, who was consistently late, came running in to flip the sign to ‘Open’. Mr Sakamoto arrived about a half hour later, pushing his bike back from sending Hana off to school.
Business had gone fairly smoothly. All items were accounted for, two batches of pork buns were sold, and no surprise assassination attempts. They had a new chinese snack on the menu - siew mai, Lu had called it, a steamed pork and shrimp dumpling - and it was gaining popularity among the office workers and university students as a quick breakfast food. Their meal offer that added a drink for just 50 yen had also boosted sales. All in all, it was a pretty profitable day!
It was Shin’s turn on the roster to bring Hana back home after school, and so he set off as the clock ticked its hands to 1 p.m.. The weather was still a little warm. He charged a packet of orange juice to his name and tucked it into his pocket. He had close to no knowledge on children’s health, but he’d loved juice as a child, so Hana might like it too, right? Besides, fruit juice had fruits in it, so it had to be healthy… right?
Regardless of its advertising and nutritional value, Hana loved the juice. She’d clapped her hands gleefully, almost as if she was a drug dealer and Shin had smuggled in contraband for her. Perhaps in exchange for his service, Hana had very enthusiastically begun regaling her adventures at school to Shin as they walked back home.
“...and then, the teacher told us to write about our favourite character, and why we love them so much! So I said Sugar Bunny, and then the teacher asked why, and I said because he’s big and strong and fluffy! But then the teacher laughed and said that I needed to think more about why I love Sugar Bunny, even though I didn’t say anything funny.” She frowned. “Shin, do you think I said something wrong?”
Fighting a smile that threatened to spread across his face, Shin shook his head. “Not at all. Maybe your teacher was just interested to know more about Sugar Bunny?”
“Oh!” Hana’s expression brightened. “That’s it! I’ll write all about how amazing Sugar Bunny is, so teacher will love him too!”
Shin spent the rest of the journey back to the store smiling and nodding at Hana’s every word. Even after a long day at school, her energy was boundless. She rambled and gushed about the pink fluffy bunny, skipping along the path as merrily as her little legs could. What a sight they must’ve been - a small dark haired girl excitedly talking to a much bigger, young adult, blonde man.
…Well, he sounded really creepy when described like that. They looked too different to be biologically related in any way, and he hoped that any onlookers would simply brush him off as a… what was he to Hana? A caretaker? A family friend? A brother figure? The last one seemed too familiar for what they were.
Sure, he cared for her, and yeah, her teacher kept mistaking him for Hana’s brother (which he hadn’t bothered to correct, given that it was a pretty convenient lie anyway), but he was still an outsider. They only interacted because he worked in her parent’s shop, and he only got that job because of his less-than-ideal history with her dad, whereby he’d clung onto Mr Sakamoto like a leech until he left to marry Ms Aoi. Not a great story to tell at a dinner table.
All the same, he guessed they were fairly close for an employer-employee relationship. He ate meals with them, stayed in their guest room, and joined them on family shopping trips. Heck, he and Lu had tagged along to their day at the hot springs once, though he vowed to never step foot in one again. Seriously, what was the appeal of being cooked alive and waterboarded? It was torture.
They reached the shop before his mind could wander further. Hana rushed in, half-filled juice box still in hand. He allowed himself to lag behind a little, scanning his surroundings to ensure that there were no threats nearby. All he found were empty cup noodle containers and snack crumbs on the floor. Lu and Heisuke must’ve put off cleaning the outdoor seating area, so that Shin could do it once he came back. Figures.
As expected, Lu and Heisuke were very conspicuously facing away from the door when he entered. He sighed and made his way to the back to grab the cleaning supplies. Hana was talking to her father, and her voice echoed throughout the store. “Papa, can I watch Sugar Bunny today? I really need to see how Sugar Bunny fights!”
Mr Sakamoto’s voice is soft, but Shin can hear his thoughts. Only allowed to watch on weekends. Those are the rules.
“But Papa!” The plea in Hana’s voice makes Shin’s lip curl into a smile. “It’s very, very important! Just this once-”
“No.”
Apron in hand and trusty broom in the other, Shin walked out to the sight of Mr Sakamoto, arms folded, standing firmly as Hana clung to him. Her eyes were glassy, and she turned her gaze to Shin as he walked by. Shin’s expression froze.
“Shin, tell Papa that I need to watch Sugar Bunny today!”
“Ah,” Shin scratched the back of his head absently. “Mr Sakamoto, maybe just this once-”
Shin. Stay out of it.
There is a terseness to Mr Sakamoto’s thoughts that gives Shin pause.
It’s not as though Shin is unfamiliar with this tone. He’d lived with Mr Sakamoto for years, and he’d heard many fleeting thoughts in his head - the good, the bad, the ugly. He’d even witnessed Mr Sakamoto yell them out on rare occasions. He’d like to say that he’s pretty familiar with the ex-assassin, given that he can also, you know, read minds. Perhaps other people might find it out of character, but for Shin, aggression from Mr Sakamoto is not an unfamiliar sight.
So why did being on the receiving end of Mr Sakamoto’s ire sting so badly?
Being a psychic meant that Shin knew more than he let on. He’d spent most of his life hearing all sorts of names being assigned to him, and rarely were any of them even remotely kind. At this point, he was quite immune to sharp words and even sharper blows. He was strong, he was tough, he was-
The dull thud of a juice box hitting Mr Sakamoto rattled him out of his reprieve.
“Papa is so mean!” Hana screamed, arm still outstretched from flinging the box. “I needed - for school - and Shin didn’t even help me! I hate you! I hate Papa and Shin!”
Everyone in the shop went quiet. Lu and Heisuke, who had been pretending to stock shelves, slowly began backing into the storeroom. Shin stopped in his tracks, trying his best to breathe as quietly as he could. Had Hana snapped so badly because she’d been holding her thoughts back for too long? The ringing in his head grew louder with each passing second, Hana’s words slowly sinking into his brain. She hates me. I messed up so badly that I angered the sweetest child ever. Hana hates me because I wasn’t there for her.
The last thought feels like the final nail in a coffin of suppressed memories.
Luckily (or unluckily, he can’t tell anymore; his head is throbbing and his hands are shaking,) Mr Sakamoto reacts first. “Hana, go to your room. We’ll talk there.” And then, through his thoughts, Shin, mind the store while we’re upstairs. With a tearful sniff, Mr Sakamoto and Hana disappeared up the stairs, leaving Shin standing alone in the middle of the store.
On autopilot, he walked out of the store, lifting the broom to begin sweeping. He absently picked up the trash and stuffed it into his apron to dispose of later, not caring if he got it dirty. It always got dirty, anyway, seeing that he was the one who took out the trash and mopped the floors and wiped the windows.
Now that he thought about it, he did a lot of the cleaning in the store. Lu was permanently stationed at the food section, and Mr Sakamoto usually manned the counter or moved the boxes of shipments. Heisuke was new, but he was in charge of deliveries and was out most of the time. Ms Aoi took care of all the administrative work. And Shin?
What could Shin give that someone else couldn’t already do?
He followed the rabbit hole of logical thought. If Shin wasn’t of any meaningful use and Hana hated him, there would be no reason for the Sakamotos to keep him around, which meant that they were no longer obligated to feed him or house him. At any given moment, they had the right to throw him out, where he’d be left with no safety net. It would be difficult for him to become a hitman again, and he really didn’t want to hit rock bottom again, the way he had a few years ago. What did that leave him?
He tried to relax his white-knuckled grip on the broom. There was no use panicking now. So what if Shin was replaceable? If anything, it was a good thing that he’d picked up on this early. He still had time to prepare, to try and become a better worker and a vital part of the team. It wouldn’t hurt to start coming up with a few backup plans, too, just in case it all went to shit.
Shin has no clue how long he spent cleaning the outdoor seating area. All he remembers is the rush of blood in his ears, the weight of his thoughts crushing down on him, and suddenly hands are grabbing his arm and shaking him.
“Shin!” Lu’s eyebrows are scrunched up, glare flickering between fiery and concerned. “Are you alright?”
Shin blinked. “Ah, yeah. I’m okay. Why?”
“You’ve been scrubbing the table for the past 5 minutes.” Lu jerked her thumb towards the table, the dark wood shining and gleaming in the sunlight. “Polish it any more and it’ll become a mirror. What’s got you so worked up?”
For a moment, he considered it. He could tell her everything on his mind - his fears, his insecurities, everything. How much Hana’s words had torn a hole through his heart. The contingency plans that his mind had begun running through. The way Mr Sakamoto’s thoughts reminded him of the gulf between them, a distance that had sliced its way between them the day Mr Sakamoto had walked out of his life in favour of his shiny new one.
His throat clammed up. How could he put all this baggage on Lu?
Despite their bickering, Lu was someone that Shin had grown close to. They cared for each other. Shin kept a close eye on her, which is why he did not miss her flinch each time someone mentioned anything related to parents, nor did he overlook her forlorn look each time she snuck to the kitchen at night to test new recipes. Lu seemed to be getting better over time, but the scars had not yet faded, and the wound was still tender. How selfish would it be, for Shin to unload all his problems onto her right now?
Rolling his shoulders back, Shin tried to release the tension from his body. He wasn’t a great liar, but he could at least put up one good performance in front of Lu. “Just thinking of how you and Heisuke left me to do all the cleaning. ‘Reorganising the shelves’, huh? Should I steal some meat buns to eat at the back, and call it ‘taking inventory’?”
The frown on Lu’s face morphed into a scowl. “Take any of my precious meat buns, and I’ll kick you into the sun, brain boy! Didn’t you see how beautiful the shelves look now! It’s all our hard work, I say, hard work!”
They continued bickering as they re-entered the store, Heisuke falling in beside them as Shin quickly mopped up the small puddle of juice on the floor. Mr Sakamoto may have taken the juice box with him, but given the angle of Hana’s throw, some of it must’ve gotten on his clothes. Sitting in damp clothes for the rest of the day… Shin shuddered at the thought.
There was a lot that he needed to think about. How he would prove his worth, how he would make it up to Hana, and how he could get stronger, smarter, better at his craft, whatever that might be. But for now, he had a shop to run, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do the one thing he might have a shot at being good enough for.
The bell at the door rang as a customer entered. Plastering on his best customer service smile, Shin steeled himself to face the rest of the day.
“Welcome to Sakamoto’s store!”
-
The night was quiet. Far too quiet.
Dinner had been a quick affair. Hana had been absent, along with Ms Aoi and Mr Sakamoto. Lu and Heisuke had attempted small talk at the table, but all of them had been on their feet the whole day and were out of energy. They’d focused on finishing their food and heading home, Shin to his bedroom and Lu to her mansion and Heisuke to whichever roof he chose for the night.
Shin had considered offering his room before, but it wasn’t even his room to offer in the first place. Besides, he didn’t know what the Sakamotos thought of pets. Piisuke was a very polite bird, but a bird nonetheless. In any case, Lu had informed him that she’d left a spare room at her place for him to crash at, if he ever felt like it. It was good to know that his friends had options, in case of an emergency.
After his shower, he’d snuck to the washing machine to start his load of laundry. It was a routine of his that he’d cultivated in the 5 years he lived alone in Mr Sakamoto’s old apartment. He’d messed up the detergent ratios and spin duration the first few times, but now he had it down to a T. On nights where he had a little bit too much restless energy in him, he'd start a load of laundry and clean the house. It made for a good system, keeping the place clean while feeling some semblance of control.
Today, his room had barely any clutter, but he went through the motions to organise them anyway. His few volumes of manga were dusted and shelved, the table wiped down, and his laptop placed gently on the table, plugged in and charging.
The laptop was the first big purchase that he’d made after saving up his paychecks, and he could finally watch his pirated movies without squinting his eyes to spot the details. Ms Aoi had suggested that he try out some online courses, but he had always silently dismissed the thought. He had to devote his time and attention to working in the shop, and, while he hated to admit it, his language skills were severely lacking. Hey, it wasn’t as though he had the freedom to study when he was homeless or working as an assassin! Sure, the people at the Lab had taught him the basics, but they were math and science nerds. Shin had learnt the quadratic formula long before he’d finished memorising the alphabet. Self-studying for the past few years had paid off, but he was definitely way more inept at Japanese than anyone his age should be.
He always cleared his closet last, not because it was the most difficult, but because he had to make sure no one else was around. The Sakamotos weren’t nosy, and Lu and Heisuke had respected his privacy whenever they came to his room, but - you never knew! What if one day, Ms Aoi wanted to tell him to go to bed, and she glimpsed at the state of his wardrobe? Or if Lu wanted to raid his closet for clothes? What if an assassin crept in, trying to grab his knick knacks or whatever, and decided that Shin kept his treasures in there? Shin couldn't explain any of it to any of them, not even the assassin.
Because how was he supposed to explain that he kept all his clothes in duffle bags, stowed away in one dark corner?
Shin had been living with the Sakamotos for over half a year now. If it was still the first few months, Shin could deflect and say that he just got lazy, everything was fine, he was just a procrastinator who hadn’t gotten around to unpacking all his clothes. But with every tick of the clock, the excuses became weaker and weaker. His plausible deniability had long since run out. If you asked Shin, he couldn’t tell you why he did it. It just felt wrong for him to unpack. He didn’t understand it, either.
But was that really true?
Maybe it’s a little poetic. Perhaps Shin had known, from the very beginning, that this arrangement wasn’t going to last.
With one last pull, Shin zipped the bags close and flopped down onto his bed.
There was no use lamenting the inevitable. All Shin could do now was wait for the shoe to drop. In the meantime, he could start brainstorming the different things that he could do in case he was thrown out.
Sighing, he grabbed a pen and notebook from the side of the table. It was one of those school spiral notebooks that they sold in the store. Ms Aoi had one, too, for inventory. He’d never touched it before, but he needed a place to pen down his thoughts and form a game plan. He flipped open the first page, paused, and flipped the pages until he reached the middle of the notebook. There. Now any intrusive fella wouldn’t immediately see his plans.
In big letters, he wrote:
Shin’s big emergency plan
Bland, but fitting. Underneath it, he began scribbling.
1. Make sure you are perfect at work. Find something that no one else can do. Otherwise you’ll be replaced.
2. Start looking for other jobs
Trying to find new employment would be difficult. Shin had no academic qualifications or awards to his name. In terms of connections, he could only think of the scientists from the Lab, which had blown up, or some assassins that he kept in touch with. Neither were excellent options, but one was clearly more viable than the others.
Jobs: assassin? Become assistant to hitman? No killing rule
Maybe he’d been lulled into the peace that came with working at Mr Sakamoto’s store for too long. Even as he studied his menial options, the family rule came back to haunt him. Did he have to abide by the family rule if he wasn’t in the family? Still, his heart was reluctant to break it. Even if it hindered his job prospects, he couldn’t simply go back to killing, not yet.
Lodging was another issue. If he didn’t have money, he couldn’t afford rent. The lease on Mr Sakamoto’s old apartment had run out. It was one of the reasons he’d taken up the job to kill Mr Sakamoto in the first place - he had nowhere else to go, anyways. It also wouldn’t be a good idea to stay with anyone involved in the store, which eliminated Lu and Heisuke.
He swallowed harshly. He’d lived on the streets once. He could do it again.
3. Never burden the people around you.
He could do it. He would do it. Starting tomorrow, he would be the most flawless worker in the shop. He’d work his butt off to earn his place. He didn’t have the luxury of whiling away his free time anymore; he had things to do and skills to practice.
He turned and switched the lights off.