Updated chapter!!!
At this point in the day, it could be anyone's guess what time it was. The bright sky told him that the day was still young, and could have fooled him to believe that it was still morning if he had not previously attended lunch with the Mizo five. The cafe they were currently wasting time in was luck-lustily empty, apart from them and a couple of elderly couples mingling about. The air conditioner must have been quite ancient, and full of dust as Takemichi tried not to cough. The damp feeling of his seat was not exactly comforting either, quite the opposite, actually, but it is not like he could just walk away from the tense conversation.
By the nasty looks he had been receiving these past five minutes, Takemichi understood that they were perhaps speaking too loudly, but he had passed a point where he did not care anymore. Fuck those people, and fuck Sanzu. The egocentric tone in the voice of that maniac burned his patience like candlelight fueled by gunpowder.
The argument could go on forever. Takemichi's pleas were fueled out of desperation for just a taste, but Sanzu was keen on being an asshole.
Whan hadn't he? Since they first met last night under the worst circumstances in existence, Sanzu made it clear he took joy in the suffering of others. The earring, after carefully cleaned and separated from the still piece of flesh, was left hidden in one of Takemichi's drawers. If he could get rid of it he would, but he felt needed a reminder to what was currently haunting him. The current bane of his existence, a cruel force that came from nowhere. The fucking asshole that was not eating a piece of cake just to spite him.
"You said that you weren't hungry."
"I'm not! I'm not. But you can't just waste food like that! It's rude!" Takemichi fumed, ready to pull out his hair at the sight of the untouched flan cake. It looked so delicious and so, so alone.
"Why do you care so much, it's not like I wasted any actual money on it." He said, sipping on his milkshake while adorning a bored stare. Between his narrow fingers, he held the stolen card and waved it in the air mockingly. "You can have it if you pay for it, though."
Takemichi gritted his teeth.
Pretentious. Fucking. Asshole.
By this point, Takemichi had a solid conclusion that Sanzu was filthy rich or had at least grown up well-off. The way he carried himself, the expensive accessories, and carelessness with money just screamed lavished childhood, and Takemichi hated it. He hated entitled kids. Those that just thought they could get away with anything cause their daddy had deep pockets. People like Sanzu, and his unwillingness to eat that goddamn cake out of pure spite.
"You fucking suck," Takemichi muttered. He hated him, a feeling that had previously never festered in his heart, not until they met. But that hate did not grow alone, Takemichi also hated just how deeply terrified he was of Sanzu.
Terrified of what he might do. Of his great plan that apparently needed Takemichi that badly, and how it would, once again, ruin his peace of mind. The present, the past, everything, and everyone since Sanzu marched into his house was working against him. The tension in his shoulder was ever-prevalent, and despite his heightened sense of anxiety, the exhaustion weighed his muscles down.
If he could gain even just the slightest of advantages against Sanzu's seemingly all-knowing eyes, he could make Sanzu accept Takemichi's conditions for this weird deal they were having. What type of deal exactly Takemichi was not sure of. However, if what Sanzu said was true, then any information he might share could help Takemichi gain an important advantage in what was previously a fight in the dark. Despite being headset on saving everyone, he had to admit to knowing next to nothing about Toman and its members. By having Sanzu on his side, Takemichi would not need to travel as often to the future to consult Naoto for information.
