maneuvering through

A Tale Of Two Idiots

His phone was already on its fourth ring. The soft generic tone he once found soothing now irked him to no end. The vibration from the bedside table just made it all the more source of his indignation. He rolled on his chest, grabbed his pillow along, and firmly pressed it over his ears.

The ringing stopped. He loosened his grip until it started blaring more annoyingly again, and he grew impatient.

Sighing. His arm reached blindly for the blasted phone just lying on the bedside table.

Turning to his right. He begrudgingly checked his notifications.

'6 miscalls and 10 messages.'

Throwing off his duvet, he sat up and keyed in his password. Most of his miscalls were from Fuyumi and the others from his Dad. He raked a hand over the division of his hair, his bangs falling back into place in ruffled disarray as he grudgingly scratched the back of his head.

'Guess I'll have to make a few calls.' He thought, getting out of bed, and yawning his way to the bathroom. Facing the mirror, he ran his hand over his face, and splashed himself with water before grabbing the towel, and heading for the shower.

After an earful, he explained to himself to Fuyumi why she hadn't heard anything from him yet. He then dropped his gaze to the other name. He wasn't second-guessing whether to make the phone call or not, his relationship with his father had long been mended since the incident. In truth, he no longer keeps him at arm's length now, maybe just a few meters, but anyway. A scheme was brewing inside his head and he immediately pressed the call back.

He waited.

It rang for a few secs until he heard the gruff baritone of his father.

He drew in a breath. "Hello, Dad."

Shouto didn't expect the media would get to him before he could leave the corner of the hotel. It's already 9 in the morning and he hadn't eaten breakfast yet. They swarmed around him like fruit flies and he couldn't find it in his position to just ignore them and go on his way. There's no point in keeping his disguise when he's already being clustered around. He simply wore his usual blank facade. Just a few questions and he'll scoot away. Just a few.

"Shouto-san, is it true you'll be staying in Osaka? For good?"

"No. Just a few days."

" You're not switching agencies then?"

"No."

"But you're still on vacation?"

A crease pulled between his brows.

"Yes."

"Any reason why Osaka, then, of all places?"

He was about to open his mouth to answer when a louder voice cut in.

"Someone caught your eye, Shouto-san? A girl, perhaps?"

Heads collectively whipped from the source of the voice then to him, expressions hungry for some juicy gossip. His expression doesn't change.

"Yes." He affirmed nonchalantly.

Momo almost choked on her tempura. Hurriedly, she reached out for her glass of water, chugging ungainly until it sufficed.

For seconds, she relieved herself from her coughing fit and turned her attention back to the TV screen, face tickled in red. It wasn't lost to her the way the four girls' attention did not leave the screen. It wasn't a live broadcast, she noticed. She guessed that they had caught him earlier that day and it looked like he was on his way out of a hotel. Unfortunately for him, they surrounded him like ants ganging a hapless worm.