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The stars smile brightly weaving beautiful constellations across the cerulean night-sky playing hide and seek with the crescent moon which disappears behind the clouds as a cool wind gushes past it. Tipsy steps trudge down the streets eager to return back home—some in the arms of their lovers, some to the comforts of their warm beds—after a long exhausting day.
With March knocking on the door with spring delicately wrapped around its arms, the weather had been expected to become a little warmer but warmth was the last thing Haruto felt this evening.
"I wanna talk to your manager!" The man shrieks throwing some coins at the poor guy—one cutting right past his left eye—while he tries his best not to snap at the older, "I have had enough of this bullshit you shameless bastard!"
Son of a fucking bitch, Haruto curses back at him behind the smile, "Sir," he drags, holding the pack of cigarettes between his fingers the old man made all the fuss about, "you still have to pay for this."
The man appeared to be in his early fifties with dark circles sitting under his eyes, a loose tie wrapped around his neck like a rope while two of his shirt buttons—one at the top, one at his belly—were undone and a big expensive watch rested on his wrist. Quite a peculiar sight to be honest, he seemed somewhere in between homeless and a rich businessman or better, a homeless man pretending to be a businessman having his way around the city through the facade.
The old man lets out a gasp, "You little bastard," he accuses with wide shocked eyes, pointing a finger towards the younger, "A-Are you accusing me of stealing? Do I—Do I look like a fucking thief to you?"
"No sir," he lies biting his inner cheek meaning to scream the opposite to his face, "I am just doing my job. I am nobody to judge, really."
Within the blink of an eye—before Haruto could even complete all that he had to say—he is being held by the collar of his shirt merely a few inches away from the old man's face whose eyes burned red with anger. Haruto scoffs, Here we go again.
"I am afraid, you're making things difficult for both of us," He declares flatly.
"You little—"
"—Haruto!" Kei runs towards the said boy rescuing him out of the hold of the old man before bowing apologetically at their customer, "I am sorry on the behalf of this young man right here sir, he is just a kid—clueless, stupid and spoilt with no control over his mouth. Please forgive him, he's a good boy—Right Haruto?" He glares at the younger motioning him to apologise to the man.
Reluctantly Haruto bows a little before muttering a small, "Sorry." with a scowl. He can't afford to lose his job. Not this time again at least.
"You better be young man," The man says running a hand through his hair—the only thing worth looking off his appearance—before letting out a sigh.
