There was a hint of challenge in his voice. Saejima shed his coat and held it over both of them like a canopy, making a makeshift umbrella. He tried in vain to shield his hair from the rain with his hands. "Sounds good to me," Masaki replied, relieved to have escaped that topic without Saejima making him into an interesting stain on the pavement. It's small, but it'll get us outta the rain." He decided he didn't have to as long as Masaki didn't ask. Well, not recently." Saejima's face scrunched, trying to think of how to explain, if he could explain without mentioning that he was in debt to the yakuza. Maybe there's a reason you have no friends. "I didn't know you had a place, since you don't have parents." Masaki realized immediately how insensitive that had to sound and mentally slapped himself. "Ya wanna go to my place?" Saejima asked, still squinting up at the rain. "Yuck," Masaki grumbled, "I hate walking home wet." Saejima and Majima shuffled back under the canopy to stay out of the rain. Dark spots started to appear on the sidewalk. At first he thought it was a bug and dodged back, then it hit him again. An added bonus was that since they weren't technically real money, it was easier to convince Saejima to let him foot the bill.Īs they walked out of the store with their bounty, something hit Masaki on the face. A minor gig had payed mostly in gift cards and coupons and since his mother wasn't interested in tiny corner grocery stores, Masaki got to keep the lot. Masaki showed up at the street corner where Saejima and he had first met with a fistful of coupons and a big grin.
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