A Gangster and Her Ramen (EXO Tao)

Chapter One: The First Meeting

Pitter patter, pitter patter, the inexperienced feet of a dozen shadows chased after Huang Zitao. He closed his eyes and told himself it was rain.

     Drip drop, drip drop.

     Rain was the alluring threat that fell but never harmed. That was how it was suppose to be. Only this acidic rain burned him alive. It ate away at his defense and laughed while he fought. That was the only way he could explain it.

His lean build flexed against the sweat clinging fabric he sported. A black mask covered his mouth, leaving his hawk eyes bare. Ignoring his pounding heart, the man dodged a dumpster and with a backflip, he took out two men. Tao inwardly cringed as his foot made impact with the flesh. He ducked just in time to avoid a right hook. Another was hurled his way.

So much for an easy job.

Crickets fled, the surrounding area now occupied. The summer night that once emitted a pure white bruised an ivory and yearned for empathy. He did a quick spin on his feet, knocking the multiplying enemy out. The elegance of his fighting matched a ballet dancer's.

The exhausted bodies dropped after a couple minutes. He stared at them, chest rising rapidly. A loud groan escaped as he realized his shoulder was dislocated again.

     Drip, drip.

     AB splattered on the ground. Damn bastards. They gave him a bloody nose too. How was he going to explain this later? He wasn't exactly a healing machine.

"Shit," he grumbled lowly, wiping the blood away.

Tao regarded the plump man who was responsible. He gathered saliva and spat on the man's face. For good measure, he swung his foot back and kicked him in the groin. A husky groan answered.

"Pathetic," Tao said before walking away.

     Within seconds, the shadows welcomed him as an old friend.

~

"Yah, Park Sarang!" the landlord screeched. "If you don't give me this month's rent, I'm kicking you out! No more bullshitting me!"

Sarang dashed from the screaming ahjuma, fear creeping up her spine. Half her hair was out of its ponytail and her house keys dangled dangerously on the edge of her satchel. Her shabby apartment complex overlooked the crowded neighborhood. The nosy bystanders watched as she ran for her life.

     How the hell was she going to beg for more time?! There was no chance. She didn't pay last month's rent either. It was time to sweet talk and hope for that best. Again.

"I'm late for school, ahjuma!" Sarang replied lightly. "We can talk about it later okay?"

She dodged the slipper that was hurled her way and waved. Snickers echoed throughout the neighborhood from the bystanders. It was almost a routine for them. At 8 o'clock every other week, the same scene unfolded.

"Thanks for understanding!" Sarang said, ignoring the backlash of the landlord. "I'll bring you back jjajangmyeon! And my maybe one of my paintings!"

            Like an old cartoon, the ahjuma' ears emitted steam. For an old lady, she sure ran fast.

            "You dare compare rent money to your crappy artwork?!" the old lady screamed. "Come here, Mona Lisa! I'll show you something about art!

            "Mona Lisa is a painting ma'am, not an artist."

            Another slipper was hurled in her direction and accidentally knocked over someone's trash can. Sarang took her chance and sprinted.