Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
Yeah, thanks, Dad, he thought with a mental roll of his eyes. Didn’t need some guy off the street lecturing him about what would and wouldn’t kill him, especially after the same guy helped him in a fight and offered to buy him liquor without even knowing his age. Wasn’t exactly the type of guy he needed advice from. Wasn’t the type who should’ve been giving it out, either.
“If I make it thirty more years, maybe,” he returned. “Lotta shit that’ll probably kill me first.”
Leo grinned to himself as he dug into his pockets anyway, if only because he knew his nicotine addiction was about to be catered. Of course this guy smoked. And of course he’d share one. He didn’t want his advice but he had no problem taking his cigarettes.
Leo accepted eagerly but didn’t say anything - no thanks or witty comment - and when the man extended the lighter over to him, he didn’t think twice about the gesture. It wasn’t unusual for men to light cigarettes for him and he’d already convinced himself of where this was going. If anything, it only solidified what he'd already assumed. So while he did understand the sort of intimacy the offer might’ve suggested, he wasn’t fazed by it and moved right in, eyes locked on the other until he had to glance down at the flame. It brought extra heat to his lip other than the throbbing already was and the smoke stung where it was split but he didn’t wince. Not in front of Hikaru, who took way more damage and had yet to stop grinning. It only took a second and a brief inhale to get it smoldering, a short amount of time to withstand. He removed it from his lips to exhale, wiped blood from them once more and pushed his hair back with the same hand, trying not to cringe at the feeling of greasy locks he still wasn’t used to. Desire to shower aside, the cigarette had him feeling much better.
“So you help everyone in back-alley brawls around here,” he wondered with his next exhale, “or just the ones you think’ll take you up on the offer for a drink?”
That grin widened when their eyes locked, gazes challenging the other. Yeah. Leo was definitely right about him. That was a look he’d grown plenty used to seeing and he understood what was coming for him. He’d get a place to stay, money, a little stress relief, oh, and ‘first aid’.
Rocking to his feet, he blocked the other boy’s view of the cup, trying not to let his stomach growl audibly because he didn’t want him to know how desperate he was (despite it being real fucking obvious).
So let me guess, you tried to steal from the wrong person and they pushed your shit in?
Leo rolled his eyes. Yeah. He was exactly right. He tried to pick the wrong pocket and got his shit wrecked for it. Wasn’t going to stop him from trying it again, although now he had to be on the lookout for that guy when he found himself back in that area. One more thing to have to add to his list of things to be cautious of. Maybe he could get enough from Ramen Guy to not have to do it again for a few days. Hunched over with his hands in his pockets, he walked along with the taller boy, just slightly to the side and behind him since he didn’t know where they were going and wanted to keep a little distance.
I think we've all made that mistake. Taught me not to steal from anyone bigger than me that's for sure.
Leo sized him up at that comment. Stealing from someone bigger than him, huh? As if this guy had much experience with such a thing, working that stand of his, having a few inches on Leo who wasn’t particularly short. He didn’t look particularly strong, though, and he could picture someone punching the hell out of that face.
So...he must’ve been on the streets, too, once, doing the same things to get by. Why else would he have had to steal? Or made that sort of comment? If that was the case, it was no wonder why he was handling him like this. Ugh. Leo had to consciously fight the urge to scowl at the realization. Made him want it even less. Despite his desperation to survive, that stupid fucking fighting instinct, he didn’t want help. Maybe it was the lack of trust or the expectation of there being expectations but he was sick of having to give. That was what drove him to Japan. He’d do what it took right now, told himself it was merely a low point, but it pissed him off. His situation had to be different and he was convinced the guy had no idea what he was talking about. How could anyone possibly understand him? The shit he’d done?
It made him even more pissed considering the guy had figured his shit out. Spoke Japanese, got a job, a place to live, had enough food to toss scraps his way. Did Leo make him feel guilty or something?Must’ve been real fucking nice to have been able to claw his way out of it and sprinkle Leo with spare hope that he'd get out of the rut himself. And now he was going to take him home and use someone he knew was vulnerable just like the rest of them loved to do. Real fucking charitable. He’d already accepted he was going to die young, probably next to the trash in some back alley of a bar. Wasn’t like he had much going for himself anyway but that stupid fucking fighting instinct was hard to push back against.
“Hm,” he mused, looked to the side while he debated whether or not he wanted to make friendly conversation with him. “Who said I was stealing anything? Pretty hasty assumption to make, don’t ya think? Innocent guy like me on the streets. Maybe I got mugged.” Leo glanced at him again. He really was kinda cute. Like, meet at a loud concert at a shitty bar cute. A type Leo was not unfamiliar with. A type he’d had plenty of fun with. They were usually into some wild shit, which could be a nice change of pace. “Lost my wallet for a second time and I’ve barely been here...a week? Can you believe it? I always thought the people here were supposed to be, like, polite or something.” He gave him a pointed look and grinned again. “Guess not.”
Clever, pulling them into a false sense of security by letting them beat the shit out of you.
Ha. So this guy thought he was funny, did he? Pretty bold words for someone who took the bulk of the punches. Could Leo have done it alone? Absolutely not. Those guys would’ve murdered him as a warm up for the rest of their night had Hikaru, no longer quite so much of a stranger now that he knew his name, not helped out. Still, his sarcasm didn’t go unanswered.
Leo responded with a scoff and a dry, “Yeah, back at ya.”
It took him a moment to decide, as he had yet to see such kindness on the streets (especially with no apparent expectation of anything in return), but he ultimately reached out to meet the other’s hand, their bloodied palms meeting in a firm pact. It was just a handshake but the simple gesture had the weight of something more since it was so unusual to him. Like they were blood brothers, or something dramatic like that, and Leo had a creeping concern that this help didn’t come free. Owing people made him uneasy.
As he took his hand back and stuffed it in his pocket, the other one following suit after wiping blood from his lip again, he watched the man as he continued in that equable manner he’d somehow managed to keep to the entire time. Leo didn’t accept or reject the compliment of being “decent” but it cleared away the concern that Hikaru might’ve thought he was weak. Because god forbid a stranger underestimate him. Actually, he seemed to think they were on pretty equal ground based off his friendliness and the fact that he hadn’t hit the road after seeing how disgusting or at least greasy Leo was sure he looked up close. He even suggested spending a little more time together. The guy was going to buy him a drink! That he would accept. Out of money and busted up, it was the best thing Hikaru could’ve suggested to get the boy to tag along, though Leo noted mentally that the amount he owed the man was quickly growing. Hopefully, he wouldn't find himself dead in some alley a few hours later in place of that one.
He wordlessly followed behind him - if only because the man didn’t give him a chance to respond before he was headed out of the alley - when gestured to do so. He didn’t know that he cared much for all the ordering around and he never would’ve admitted it but, shit, he really was cool. Or at the very least managed to easily pique Leo’s interest, which was quite a feat as far as the boy himself was concerned. If he was lucky enough, maybe he'd found a bed for the night. Was that this guy's intention, too? Nothing he wasn't used to, but it would've been a shame to know he was just like the rest of them. Still, he'd use that to his advantage.
“You smoke?” he wondered in hopes of getting to bum one. He wasn’t big on it himself, but getting the snot beat out of him and then returning the favor called for a cigarette and they were celebrating, after all.
Oh, fuck. Leo froze but didn’t turn to face her. English speaker? What the hell had the odds been? He groaned internally and rolled his eyes as he was reamed out, a damnable trait girls seemed to excel at no matter the country. She was his problem. Was that not blatantly obvious?
He didn’t move to protect her (although he probably would have if it came to it) when footsteps approached and faded again but he did tense up in the backs of his legs, ready to bolt or resist or whatever the situation might’ve called for. Luckily, it was nothing. He relaxed his weight back into his heels and exhaled.
You look like shit.
Now that had just about triggered a whole fight or flight response. One could’ve seen the vein pop out of Leo’s forehead.
“Wow. Ugly on the inside, too? Just like that, I get how you pissed someone off enough to get the cops coming after you.” He wasn’t usually such a prick but the poor girl had found herself right at the end of Leo’s rope. He stuck his hands annoyedly into his pockets, sizing her up when he found it in himself to turn around, and he probably looked more like a pouty kid than the edgy man he seemed to think he was. He quirked a brow. She looked clean, for one, so no way was she a street rat like he supposed he was now. Her hair was glossy, no roots, her makeup fresh, clothes the perfect fit, and that garbage personality… Probably some spoiled rich kids that crawled out of the woodwork to get plastered and fuck shit up when her parents tossed her some extra allowance. He hadn’t been there long, but he’d learned those people weren’t the type he wanted to waste his time on. No one in that fucking city was. He spit to the side and gave her a hard look.
“Look, I’m not really in the mood to deal with...this,” he explained coldly, gesturing to her with a nod of his chin. He was moody as all hell, valid given his circumstances, and wasn’t in the space to be dealing with anything that wasn’t passing out somewhere that wasn’t that alley. The harsh statements about his appearance didn’t help. If he had his way, he would’ve showered about six days ago and sure as hell wouldn’t have been wearing the same shit he got off the plane in.
“Try not to look like you’re about to gag. I’m gonna go find somewhere to sleep before I snap but I think I did you a pretty big fucking favor helping you out after you ran into me, so apologize and I’ll get gone. Fair?”
Yeah, sure. He fucked around and got himself messed up like this. It was totally his own fucking fault that someone else decided to beat his ass and his own fault that he could hardly do a damn thing about it and- Tch. Did he show up just to make him mad? This guy had no clue what he was talking about.
Leo stretched out his legs so his heels rather than the whole lengths of his feet rested against the ground, gave a dramatic roll of his eyes and sighed. Seattle (whose real name Leo still couldn’t remember) acted like he spoke English but he had yet to fuck off, so maybe he’d lost some of his language ability after being away from home for so long. Fucking annoying. Leo couldn’t drink in peace, sleep in peace, ache in peace, be mad in peace. At least stateside he had a bedroom with a fucking lock.
He heard him set something down when he mentioned ramen, assuming that was what he had in the bag, but didn’t look or move to take it. Why was this guy pushing so hard to help him? Feeding him here and there like he was some stray cat wasn’t going to keep him alive or safe or warm. It was delicious and Leo probably would’ve done a lot of things to get more but this - the injuries and fact that he was sitting freezing on a bench at that time of night at a new all time low - was a perfect display of the fact that this little savior thing was just some fucked up game Seattle was playing to make himself feel better. Leo was coming to understand that he was probably going to die out there and gestures like this only dragged it out. Beat going back to his dad.
“Not thirsty.”
Leo peered up at him, gaze challenging, then closed his eyes again with another sigh when he heard, I can treat those for you at my place.
A quirked brow lifted Leo’s gaze, had him sitting up to look at the other boy again. Leo’s first instinct told him to shut it right the fuck down. Sounded like danger. Sounded like pity. Two things Leo wanted no part in. Still, he studied him for a long moment, allowing himself to fantasize. A picture of four walls, heat, water, a clean, soft place to sit, and Leo tracking his filth all over it. He was surprised to hear that he was willing to take him into his home, or that he’d offered at all even if he wasn’t serious about it. It was awfully fucking nice of him to just...suggest it. Not to mention, he didn’t know shit about Leo. He could’ve been a murderer for all the other guy knew. He thought about it a little more and- Oh, so it was like that, was it? That he hadn’t considered this option sooner was lost on him. Go to his place, let the guy (whose name he still couldn’t remember) fool around for a while - treat his wounds, as it were - and out of it possibly get a safe space to sleep for the night. Mind drifting further, he wondered what sort of stuff Ramen Guy had strewn about his place. If he could gather up anything worth stealing, maybe dip into his wallet a little. It made some part of him sad to think that this wasn’t all just the Seattle Dude Non-Profit Charity Foundation but that was a part of himself he did an excellent job of silencing. All men were the same, he supposed. That this one gave him ramen first didn’t change a single thing. He’d happily oblige regardless. Maybe even have fun.
“M’kay,” he decided and brought his feet up close again, leaning on his thighs and letting dark eyes fall on the boy, grin devilish, daring. “Your place.”
He drew in a breath and glanced over at him but didn’t have long to let the gears fully turn over the fact that the guy spoke English -- a linguistic lottery he never thought he’d win. It wasn’t something he got to think often, but a relieved lucky me restored a little confidence in him that he would not die in that alley by his own knife. Not this time, at least.
Leo managed to yank his arms free, stumbled forward while the group reassessed the playing field as it tipped out of their favor and became a sliver more balanced. It didn’t take them long to figure out that Leo was half the threat that his new English speaking companion was and they all let their focus leave him to instead get this stranger taken care of first. Foolish, he thought, until the handful of men received consecutive hits right off the bat. Who the hell was this guy? Cool. He was...kinda fucking cool.
He winced when the man took a hit on his behalf while Leo himself was busy gawking, just sort of watching without realizing he had yet to move.
I suggest you either help out or get the hell out of dodge.
Fair. Time to decide.
Well, he...he wanted to run. The checked bottoms of his chucks scraped over the pavement, moved back half a step so he could beat it but- Agh, fuck. He wasn’t about to just leave him there. The guy looked high as a kite to have received the invitation to beat the shit out of the thugs but it was Leo’s fight and he’d managed to get him involved and he’d stick around for it. Even if only to prove that he wasn’t a kid.
Instinct finally kicked in and he went for the one still staggering, swinging himself around the guy by his neck, pulling back and choking him even as nails dug into his skin through his clothes. The man slammed them both against the wall, which knocked the wind out of Leo, but he didn’t let go until he finally dropped. Glancing over, he saw one other man knocked out on the ground, the stranger taking and dishing out a near equal share of hits until one had grabbed him and the other started pummeling. Leo managed to tackle the current assaulter and started driving punches hard into his jaw, the two of them struggling for a minute which landed Leo beneath him, choking. Desperate hands reached out to the side, scraping at grime for a bottle knocked over just beneath the dumpster, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around the neck, he brought it around with a furious swing and loud crash. The glass shimmered to the ground around him, some of it falling into his messy, greasy hair, and he staggered to his feet, the stranger standing, too. He walked over to pick up his knife, cleaning it on the knee of his jeans before he slipped it back into his pocket.
“Fuck.” Leo panted and wiped crimson from his lip, smearing it across his cheek and up the back of his hand like a crude brushstroke. He looked down at it and scowled, wiped the blood on the side of his jeans instead as if they weren’t dirty enough already. “I’m not a kid,” he circled back to make sure that was clear, proving the stranger’s comment that he was, in fact, a kid. He looked over at him. “Leo. And...thanks, I guess.”
“Leo,” he answered, going with honesty since he couldn't find a reason to lie, perking up a little when he told him he’d fill his water whenever he was around. It was surprising how much of a relief that was. He didn’t expect such a simple offer to lighten so much of the weight on his shoulders. Now he only had to worry about food, but he could get by on stolen snacks or meals paid for by the wallets of unaware strangers until he figured something else out. Bottles of water were much harder to hide on his way out of the convenience stores than meal replacement bars.
He took the water and the bag and lingered, watching the other boy watch him.
“You? Where are you from?” he continued. “You speak English. I haven’t run into anyone else out here who does.” Maybe he could help him. The thought of relying on someone for help gave him the same sort of chills that nails on a chalkboard would have, but if he could at least get set up with a seal and some sort of account (even though he had no money for it), maybe he could figure out a housing situation. One that wasn’t the streets or some creep’s bed.
When he got his answer, he nodded but didn’t offer up any more information about himself in exchange. He muttered a, “Thanks again,” and took off into the dark.
He wouldn’t make his way back to the booth the next day or even the day after that. Leo had never been one to look for fights but they always had a way of finding them. He picked the wrong guy to steal from, he guessed, but it was bound to happen eventually, huh? Now he was sitting on a cold metal bench, bruise on his neck from being choked with his bag, a little gash in his arm from fingernails, a busted lip and a nasty, purple bruise on his cheekbone. Man, it fucking killed. All the wounds throbbed. His pride hurt and he was hungry and thirsty but couldn’t find it in himself to show his face to the ramen guy again. To present the broken cup to him and beg for another one like a desperate idiot because he was not desperate. But just as he sat up, the situation he was so trying to avoid appeared right in front of him. Things he didn’t want did have a special way of finding Leo even when he wanted nothing to do with them.
“Agh, fuck,” he groaned and rolled his eyes, leaning back his head and closing his eyes again. Ramen guy. What was his name again? “Look, just fuck off. I’m fine, ‘kay?” He reached to his side, trying to be discreet as he pushed the smashed cup behind himself. Why the hell did he keep it?
Fucking cold. Leo pushed his way into the medium sized crowd, moved through the gathering of people in the center of the dive until he was up at the wooden bar-top, settling into a stool. He sucked in a sharp, shivering breath before taking in the stuffy air in a deeper inhale. It was disgusting but he liked it. The air was warm, albeit nasty, and it was a nice change from being outside all the time. He slipped his fingers under his thighs to warm them up. This place was a small step up from the bar he’d been frequenting, but it still had its fill of gross old men in Shinjuku trying to let loose, looking for a night’s escape before returning back to their unsatisfied wives and sticky kids. They usually showed up in small packs, and these men had a very specific type. Looking like exactly the kind of person one might expect at this sort of bar, Leo pretty much met all their standards, although anywhere he went, drunk, young and willing seemed to check all the boxes. Being foreign was extra credit.
For the most part, he didn’t mind finding an older guy—he was into it and had quickly learned how to best apply his skills to survive after he ran out of money. For the small price of bedding them for a whole five minutes before they passed out, he was invited to their secret apartments where he could use their shower, their toothbrush, grab some cigarettes, melt away the grime, dip into their wallets and maybe steal some valuables before making his exit. But the sweaty, desperate ones he was seeing in this bar tonight were nowhere near what he liked and it wasn’t worth it. Disappointing. Leo had a daddy thing, but not in such a literal sense. Even he had standards. Needless to say, he’d only moved from the door to the barstool and he’d already had his fill of being groped for the night and it was time for a break. Pretty soon, all the men (if they could be called that) in the bar would have had one drink, one shot too many, making the more supervised bar area the safest place to get drunk on his own before heading back out into the elements.
He was approached by the bartender before he had to flag him down, ordering two shots after brandishing his fake from the US (usually went unquestioned since it was foreign) and paying with cash he’d taken from a guy the night before. He lined them up in front of himself and tried to zone out to the quiet music and droning conversations in the dark space. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? The spiraling, the intrusive thoughts.
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a trembling hand, eyes closed as he drew in an easy breath. It was all bullshit—nothing to get worked up about, nothing he needed to worry about right now. He was safe inside, warm, and his first two shots had burned their way down and were coating his stomach. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin the buzz. It never lasted long and fretting about his isolation or his dad or what he was going to eat tomorrow wouldn’t do anything for him. Not right now.
Warming with the heat of smoke in his lungs, Leo melted into the bar, forehead in his hands, relaxing and shifting his focus to the euphoric tingle in his fingers and intoxicated-pink cheeks.
“Two more,” he requested of the bartender when he’d caught his gaze again, giving the two glasses he already had a little nudge forward.
Water or not, he wasn’t getting rest. He learned that pretty fast. He was too on edge and cold and hungry to get any real sleep. And if he did manage to doze off, he was usually woken up by cops or an annoyed shop owner. The comment was almost lost on him but he barely caught what he was saying. That he knew Leo was on the streets. Hunger aside, he guessed it was probably pretty obvious. Not only was he hungry, he probably looked abhorrent. He felt greasy as hell and his hands alone had so much dirt on them he was practically wearing gloves. His clothes were trashed and he probably smelled like trash. Couldn’t have been hard to put the pieces together.
The guy set out the ramen and the water, pushed it forward. He knew he was, well, that he was homeless, huh? So this was pity. Tch. He didn’t fucking want it. He was doing fine by himself and hadn’t relied on the kindness of a single stranger this entire time (mainly because it had yet to be offered) and it wasn’t about to become a habit. He frowned at the offering. It felt wrong to take it but he wouldn’t decline it. Couldn’t afford to. Sliding onto a stool, he pulled it closer, breath shaking just a little. For real? He could have it? He watched him warily as he took up the spoon, pressing the noodles down to fill it with broth and bringing it to his lips and-
He blinked ahead of himself. Fuck. It was good. Leo set down the spoon and leaned forward, face held in his hands, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers tangled into his hair. Fuck. Fuck. Was he about to cry like a damn idiot in front of the ramen guy at three in the morning? A steadying breath and he picked it back up, this time shoveling it in so fast it made his stomach hurt. It was so rich. He hadn’t had anything like this in so long… Even before he left the states he was getting by on frozen dinners and occasional snacks. The only thing that could’ve made it better was booze.
He chugged the water between big bites, filling up fast but shoving it down even after he was way too full. He partially expected not to be able to keep it down and it made him sad. He hoped that he could savor the taste as it was now and not have it tainted when it came back up as vomit in an hour or so. When all the solid food was gone, he picked up the bowl to drink what remained of the broth, setting it down with the chopsticks next to it.
“Can you fill this up again?” he requested, wiped his mouth with the back of his arm like he was eight. “And...thanks. I’ll pay you back. Once I find my wallet.”
“Yeah, maybe I did,” Leo challenged. Though he probably could’ve toned back the defensiveness, it wasn’t any of this guy’s business when or if he’d lost it. His cheeks had warmed at the other’s observation, though. The aggression was merely the culmination of his current stressors and the embarrassment the comment made him feel, so he didn’t mean it. Emotions weren’t something he could handle like a normal person. He’d call it being edgy - really it was a learned survival response. A solid wall to put up to avoid vulnerability at all costs.
He felt eyes on him and glanced up to accidentally meet them, redirected them downward and kept them there. He watched him fill the water and moved to reach out for it but the guy kept it behind the counter and started building a bowl of ramen. The fuck was that for? He was gonna make him watch as he made food Leo couldn’t afford? The guy seemed nice but maybe he wasn’t. Did he expect Leo to magically conjure up a few hundred yen? He couldn’t even be mad. Couldn’t dedicate himself to the one emotion long enough as he hyper-focused on hunger. He never thought the sloshing sounds of food being added to broth could be so appetizing. Everytime he added something else, the smell wafted over to him, leaving Leo drooling with a stomach turning inside out in that nauseating way over the fantasy of eating rich, hot food. His eyes watched his hands and he shifted anxiously, glancing at the water before looking back to the food.
You sure all you want is water?
Of course he wasn’t sure. He was starving and by now they were both pretty clear on that. Like he said, though, “I told you. I don’t have any money.” But fuck, did it look good. Good enough that he was considering slipping into a bar to steal a wallet to get some. Enough that he was still thinking about the knife in his pocket. His cheeks burned hot again and he rolled his eyes at himself and his entire situation. So fucking stupid. If he stood there any longer, he was certain he’d pass out from the taunting scents. “I doubt you want me hanging around here any longer. Can you just give me the water?”
Tired. He was so fucking tired. He’d been out of cash for a few days, pickpocketing here and there to get by, but even the humble meals he managed to acquire with the yen scrappings couldn’t stave off the exhaustion. Daylight was the best time to sleep. It was safer, he’d found, and warmer. So he zombied his way down the street in search of a sunny, secluded spot to pass out, not bothering anyone as he considered his option. Maybe in a park where it was more socially acceptable. Or the bathroom in a restaurant. Or the train station. Or-
“Agh-” Leo gasped and hit the pavement. Who the hell? He glared over at the offender. Not in the fucking mood. “What the fuck?” he accused in sync with her.
Before he even made it back to his feet, she had a steel grip on his wrist, yanking him into the nearest hiding spot. He didn’t want to get roped into anything, but when she yelled at him in that tone and sought escape with a darting gaze, his stomach dropped and he felt like he should help her out. He’d been in similar situations, assuming she was running from someone, and despite the rough packaging, Leo was a good kid. If people were after her, he couldn’t (nor did he care to) do much to protect her should they be found but he could at least help her out enough to block her from sight in some obscure alleyway for a second.
“Ugh, let go of me,” Leo ordered and yanked his wrist away, willing to go along with whatever this was but only if it was of his own volition. He was pressed up against her, which he hated, eyes on the wall above her head. She was shorter but only by a few inches. Probably wouldn’t be able to take on whoever was bold enough to come for her in broad daylight.
But then they ran past and… Police? Ah, it was all coming together. Not as innocent as she looked. The cops around there were already starting to get familiar with Leo and he really didn’t need this added to his Things I’ve Done to Piss Them Off list nor his Things That'll Get Me Shipped Back to Dad list, so he pushed away, dusting off his clothes and turning.
“Listen, ugly, I don’t know what you’ve got going on, but I do know you didn’t need to drag me into it like that.” She wouldn’t know what he was saying, he assumed. People around there tended not to understand English. At least, not well enough to translate his annoyed muttering. He was hungry and tired and moody and didn’t need some girl causing problems. He had problems enough. He picked up her hat and handed it back to her but didn't make eye contact. “Use your eyes when you're barreling full speed down the sidewalk. And hide on your own next time. You take up too much space.”
Leo drew in a breath and stopped, lingering in place for a moment before he looked over his shoulder at the other boy. He was debating. It was probably better just to move on. This guy wasn’t going to and couldn’t help him at all, and Leo needed to get to the twenty four hour convenience store while the clerk was still dozing off at the counter. But hearing that natural English stabilized his sanity meter more than he thought it would. So he turned and listened to what he said next, if only to feel that tiny hint of familiarity a little longer.
He wanted to read the menu for him. Or...there were a few more options the next street over. It was nice of him to offer and let him know, but even if he could read it, there wasn’t much he’d be able to do from there.
“I can read it,” he snapped and recoiled at his own words. A weird thing to lie about. He wasn’t sure why it irked him so much. It was pretty fucking obvious how lost he was. “Um, I- Thanks,” he mentioned, embarrassed to have to tell him, “but I don’t have any money. I, um, lost my wallet.” Leo shifted, stepping a little closer like a timid cat. Being closer made his stomach churn like it was going to growl again. It smelled so good. But maybe he could ask, “Do you have any just...cups of water?” He shifted and watched the other boy carefully, hopeful but not expecting anything. The food thing sucked, but the dehydration made his entire body feel anxious.
He started considering his options again. This guy seemed pretty harmless. He could probably pull out his knife and take whatever money he had back there no problem. But he hadn't had to use it yet. He had stolen a few things, sure, but robbing someone with a weapon was a totally different game. Could he do it? Would he put up a fight? Would he have to hurt him? How much money did he have back there? Would it even be worth it?
His weight shifted as his mind wandered, waiting to hear his answer.
Agh, shit. All he wanted was a drink. One tiny sip of stress relief and warmth and a way to let go even if only for a few minutes. Somewhere warm with loud music so he didn’t have to think and four walls so he didn’t have to be so tense. It had been a long, traumatic fucking week. He was scared and tired. He was almost out of money with no way to make it aside from stealing. That meant no food, no water, no alcohol. As it was, he was sleeping on the streets and he’d stolen a few snacks from various convenience stores to get by. But it was already getting exhausting. So when he found himself sitting at a bar with his last few hundred yen, he was not at all conflicted about his choice to spend it there.
After lingering for three hours with only a few drinks, he headed back out into the elements, where four dudes - four men - had stopped him from exiting the alley. Before Leo could even fight back, they had him disarmed and thrown against the wall. Coming to this country was such a stupid fucking idea. He couldn’t even be drunk in peace, could he?
Leo was pulled from the wall, surrounded, his fists raised and teeth bared when a passerby caught his gaze. He shouldn't have looked as long as he did, but the guy smiled and raised his own fists and-
Confused brows pulled together at the gesture and in his momentary loss of focus he was sucker punched. Leo felt the heat of his lip splitting and crashed into the wet ground. He swore his brain rolled around in his skull when he whacked it against the wall right above where it met the pavement. Hands snaked around his arms before he could get his bearings and he was yanked to his feet, hanging forward.
"What? You all gonna fuck me at once? Isn't that kinda gay?" he taunted in English.
Oh, didn't like that, did they? He doubted they understood and that almost made it funnier. The other two stepped up to beat the shit out of him and Leo let out a growl, the sound more like that of a trapped coyote than a man ready to fight. He fought against them, scrambling to break free, and glanced over at the man at the end of the alley.
Sure, he was getting a great fucking show. But what the hell was he doing? Was he gonna help? Call the cops? Why just stand there putting himself in danger with that stupid grin on his face?
His attention shifted back to the men when he was punched in the stomach and his own knife was picked up and brandished in front of him. His heart rate tripled. Was this it? In this nasty alleyway with his own damn knife? Some weirdo passively watching on? He didn’t exactly want to shift the attention to the guy, but maybe if they saw he was there, they’d fuck off. Maybe.
This was the safest time of night, he’d learned. A weekday, it was quiet, though only for an hour or two, and he could let his guard down the tiniest bit. Somehow, Leo managed to get this far, but likely wouldn’t get much further now he was fresh out of cash. He’d stolen a wallet just about three days prior but hadn’t gotten incredibly lucky. Enough money for a coffee, a humble convenience store meal and snack, and an easy way to cover a few stolen prepackaged nutrition bars. It was around eleven the night before that hunger really started to hit, and it’d been more than twenty four hours since then. He couldn’t even sleep it off, setting up in whatever sheltered area he could find but never really getting to sleep.
What a stupid fucking idea. Escape one hell, end up in another. He had never been this sort of impulsive and found himself wondering if it would’ve been better if he’d just stayed in that house and endured it or just left for a different god damn state like a normal person. Now he was in this country with a Japanese vocabulary of no more than twenty words, no money, no house, and a drinking problem. At least if he’d stayed in America, he could’ve communicated without getting that judgmental you’re a foreigner glance or understood what the cops were saying when they chased him out of his hideaway for the night.
It was nothing he could change now, though. Now, he couldn’t get his mind off the ramen booth just ahead. He had never been so hungry in his life. His eyes wouldn’t focus on any of the menu signs posted around the both and even if they’d managed to, he wouldn’t have been able to read them. He just leaned against a wall and took in the scent. The piquant, salty broth and the savory meats - the kind that he was sure would melt in his mouth, the boiling pasta water, and the sweet, crisp aroma of fresh cut chives. His stomach cramped with hunger pains and he groaned quietly. Standing here was like tying a carrot to a stick and dangling it in front of his own face and it was beyond him why he hadn’t just moved right along. Maybe he was considering stealing. There was only one guy working at the stand and Leo had a knife. But it was sort of hard to rob a ramen joint since he’d have to wait for it to be put together for him. He let out a defeated sigh and tried to remember where the closest convenience store was. He could just pocket a few more things to get by.
Resigned to that plan, he pushed off the wall but stopped when a voice called out. Leo looked over, blinking at him, then surveyed the area to see if he was talking to him. Not a soul in sight. He was. What had he said? Ika..ika ga....Something like...like...
Was he calling him a squid?
Probably something that could be loosely translated as order something or get the fuck out of here. Fair. He was used to that.
“Sorry,” he muttered and sighed, continuing in english he assumed wouldn’t be understood. “I was just looking.”
Triggers: self-harm, csa/non-con, alcohol abuse, death [break][break] Leo was born to a couple in a small town in Maine. He lived a normal life growing up. Good grades, musically talented and happy, Leo was as average as his parents were. He had a supportive group of friends, and lived comfortably in a decent sized house. It was a normal small town life. The kind where you know everyone and their business, and the downtown area is one street with locally-owned, aging shops. It wasn't until around his last year of middle school that things started getting weird. [break][break] That was when he found out that his father, a mine worker, was an alcoholic. And more than that, an abuser. He went into Leo's room one night, completely out of it, and climbed on top of him. Leo froze. No clue what else to do, he acted like he was asleep. This went on for a while, and eventually, Leo stopped pretending to be asleep and sorta...didn't mind it. His dad then lashed out physically at his mom. Or perhaps Leo was just seeing it for the first time. That soon became directed at Leo and only got worse when he tried to stop it. So he gave up trying. He never told anyone what was going on, and thus started withdrawing into himself. Leo stole his father's liquor to cope and get through the daytime abuse. The nights spent with him turned into the best parts of his week. [break][break] By his high school years, Leo was an alcoholic just like his dad. He'd self harm, fight with his mom, ditch school and act out when he was there. His friends drifted away until they finally kicked him out of their band to force him to figure his shit out. Leo hated himself. His parents. His life. When he was a sophomore, his dad sent Leo to pick up his mom. His dad was too drunk to go himself, and he and Leo had been fighting. Unfortunately, Leo was drunk, too. Pissed, he grabbed the keys and went off to get her. He fought with her the entire drive until he got them into a wreck. His mother died and Leo lived, just to be put right into juvenile detention. [break][break] The truth about Leo's actual situation never came out, but the program he was put into was still merciful. He attended classes, picked up his grades, got clean, and was released at almost eighteen back into the "care" of his father. All that time, Leo really didn't change. He was still a disaster. Even more so with his dad back in the picture and the guilt of his mother's death on his shoulders. He was the outcast in his town (as if being the town gay didn't already set him apart enough), went right back to drinking, picked up smoking and let his dad to do whatever he wanted after withstanding worse during his time in juvie. [break][break] Leo quickly realized that he was either going to kill his father or himself, so in a last-ditch effort, an animalistic sort of instinct to survive in spite of it all, he stole two grand from his dad and booked the soonest, farthest flight he could find, which led him to Japan. Finally away from his dad and the terrible life he had at home, perhaps this really will be a chance for him to live a normal life. Or as normal as it can be on the streets.
