Chapter Text
Kei shook off his windbreaker, quietly cursing the weather as he hung it to dry. The sky was overcast with gray clouds that got ominously darker with each minute. At the tube he'd been scared the downpour would begin before he made it to work. He prayed he wouldn't have to go home under a heavy downpour again; three days in a row would be hazardous to his health.
As he changed, he mentally counted to pay day. Bills needed paying so that he could comfortably shift his focus to basic and school needs. He spent so much every month so that when he had settled the essentials, and kept aside a few notes as savings, there was next to nothing left. Until recently, he'd worked three jobs to make ends meet until he got his current job and even then, he'd briefly considered getting a side job but between his hours here and the hours at school, he came to the conclusion that it was not worth the hassle. His boss would not take it lightly if he slacked off. Plus his pay was really good.
He willed the rumbling in his heart to settle, told himself the same thing he always did when his fears tried to override common sense: everything will be okay, you will not mess up and lose this job, you will do okay whether or not they do right by you. He breathed. Everything will be fine. He would prove them wrong.
Done changing out of his street clothes and into his uniform, he double checked for creases, stains or other incriminating element in the full length mirror. Being a waiter in a high class restaurant meant he constantly had to look sharp and put together at work. The white shirt had to be crisp and spotless, folded neatly to the elbows, the black waistcoat and slacks well pressed and black shoes polished to a shine. It was the way the boss liked them to appear: sharp, impeccable. The man did not accommodate anything short of perfection. Kei had heard the boss had once fired an employee for sloppy dressing. Apparently the guy did not listen to his constant chastisement until one day the man snapped and kicked him out. That had been the guy's only offence but it had been enough reason to show him the door.
Whether this was true or not, Kei had no idea and honestly, he would rather not find out the hard way. Besides, since the boss was an easy fellow to work for, Kei had no problem following the rules. Stepping out of his comfort zone for a few hours was well worth it if it put food on his table, paid his bills and gave him financial security.
He was just about done fixing his hair when two of his colleagues walked in, chattering loudly about a rather mundane topic. Kei wished they didn't have to speak at that volume but of course asking them to tone it down would only make it worse. The door slammed shut.
"Kei go on and show him your birthmark," Taketora urged as though continuing a conversation all three of them had been having moments ago.
Kei didn't bother with a greeting because he knew he would get a repeat of the request for his trouble. "There's nothing special about a birthmark."
"There is if it's at a very kissable spot on your neck and shaped like a heart." Inuoka's voice was loud behind him, so close to his ear he actually felt the warm breath tickle his skin.
Kei moved a few steps to the side to create some space between them. He hated it when his personal space was breached without his permission, it made him uncomfortable and left him feeling violated. "It's not heart-shaped."
While he did have a birthmark on a "kissable" spot -it was stationed where his neck met his shoulder though more on the shoulder than neck- it was not in fact shaped like a heart. Not particularly anyway. He just never got to understand what was so fascinating about it. Taketora had happened to see it once while they were changing, he had found it interesting, gotten obsessed with it and told whoever cared to listen that Kei had a mark shaped like a heart.
"Just show him," Taketora asked again, more urgently this time.
Kei eyed him. "I'm already dressed."
"Fine," Inuoka conceded. He was half undressed now. "When our shift is over then. You're not getting away from this, man."
Kei grunted an assent and turned around, focused on making a wayward lock of hair stay put. His relationship with his colleagues was more impersonal than anything. He was not particularly close to any of them but he would get involved in their discussions if his input was needed just to humour them and he would sometimes hang out with them if he was invited. He teased them occasionally, never having to tamp down the temptation to rib them about certain physical traits. Taketora, for instance, got to hear a lot about his hair. Kei could not for the life of him figure out how the man had managed to get away with that haircut he had been with for the whole eight months Kei worked there. His hair was cut into a mohawk and dyed blonde. Much as their boss loved the professional look on them, Kei had never heard him give Taketora grieve over his hair though Kei guessed it might be because Taketora always wore it in a low bun at work. It made for a good reason for Kei to playfully harass the poor man.
But other than the little banters here and there, Kei mostly kept to himself. His colleagues knew there was a divide they were not allowed to cross, they respected that and didn't push too hard to be let in, and Kei respected them for that.
The door opened, all three of them turned when Fukunaga muttered a short greeting before his gaze rested squarely on Kei. "The boss wants to see you."
Kei stared at him in shock. "Me?"
Fukunaga nodded.
"But why?"
The man cocked a haughty brow, no doubt to give Kei an insight as to how stupid his question was because certainly the boss would not have told him the reason he'd asked to see Kei. It was just that Kei was stunned at the summons. The boss had never asked to see him. Ever. Sure the man knew his name, watched him silently as he worked as with all his waiting staff during service hours and gave that slight head dip by way of greeting when they locked eyes but beyond that, they kept their distance.
He was aware of the hush that had fallen on the room, it made him feel exposed. Using his index finger, he adjusted his collar, nervously pulling it away from his throat to let more air through his suddenly tight airways. Fukunaga let go of the door and started to walk away; taking that as a sign that he'd wasted enough time, Kei followed.
He hurried along, quietly telling himself he had not done anything wrong, therefore it could not be bad news that awaited. He could have been summoned for any reason. Kei casted his mind back as far as possible in search of blunders; he came up blank. It did nothing to alleviate his growing discomfort. It was no secret that when the boss called you up, it was for one of two things: a query or to let you go. There was usually no in between.
Too soon, he arrived his destination but he couldn't make himself take the fatal step of knocking. He just stood, blinking at the sturdy wood stationed imposingly in front of him. Never in his life had he felt intimidated by a door. Taking a deep deep breath, he made himself knock but before his knuckle connected to the wood, he faltered. He shut his eyes and counted slowly to ten, telling himself there was nothing to fear, he was not a naughty secondary school student the principal had sent for. He had been well behaved, he... oh dear God, he was terrified but he didn't want to lose his composure in there. His heart still raced by the time he had opened his eyes but knowing he could not afford to keep the man waiting any longer, Kei finally knocked, waiting for an answer before going in.
He shut the door behind him, taking care to make sure it closed with a soft click. It annoyed the hell out of him when doors were banged shut, he could not afford to risk irritating the boss any further if he was truly in trouble. He did not approach either, maintaining a respectable distance from the man stationed behind the mighty oak desk. It was not that the man scared him per se, he had simply taken a cue from himself and stopped from standing close to people unless he was sure they wouldn't mind.
Remembering his manners, Kei dared a glance towards the imposing figure and the moment he did, his greeting died on his lips. He was not close to their boss, he could count how many words they'd exchanged since he began working here. He could not say he knew the man well enough to read him, but right then, Kei could say with absolute certainty that the eyes glaring back at him were smouldering with barely concealed fury. Not annoyance, not irritation, it was honest-to-God indignation that made the amber eyes burn bright and fierce. It was frightening, seeing all that red hot emotion without knowing if he was about to be on the receiving end.
How he wished there was a rock he could hide behind. He wanted to run, to take flight before the hammer fell.
"Have a seat."
It took a moment for it to register that he was being addressed. He pushed off the door and ambled over, careful to thread lightly even though the thick carpet covering the whole office muffled the sounds of his footsteps. His heart beat faster and faster until all he could hear was roaring in his ears. In through the mouth, Kei reminded himself, out through the nose. The hair on his skin prickled in awareness; he was being watched. His every move was closely monitored by the only other set of eyes in the room,
Kei's eyes remained firmly planted on the floor. He sat on the edge of a chair that was too comfortable given his current predicament. The room was quiet, the sounds of ticking from the clock on the mantle the only sound that punctuated the silence. He laced his fingers on his thighs, waiting and before long his thumbs started to twiddle idle around each other.
"You're fired," a voice, low and definite roughly slammed him back to focus.
Kei's thumbs stilled. When he rose his eyes, he met a cold, hard gaze regarding him with utter disdain. He swallowed past the dryness in his mouth and croaked in disbelief, "What?"
That rug he'd gotten comfortable standing on was suddenly dragged out from under him with nothing below to cushion his fall. Please, please, please let this be unreal. Let it be a cruel joke at his expense, he wouldn't mind as long as it was a joke and nothing more.
Because really, what legitimate reason could there be for him losing his job? He was not a lazy employee, he was not sloppy, he was always on time. Surely there was a misunderstanding somewhere; the older man must be under the impression that Kei had faulted. But he hadn't. Christ, he hadn't.
"You heard me. I said you're fired," his boss replied stoically in a voice that was hard and unfeeling.
Kei bit his bottom lip and shut his eyes. He did not want to keep staring into the raven's piercing eyes because doing so would make his predicament real. He was not ready to believe it was happening. He whispered softly, "I don't understand."
"Did I stutter?" the man asked in an icy tone that made Kei feel small and stupid. He sensed his companion's patience was wearing thin.
"No, I just..." Kei opened his eyes again and gawked at the older man. "What did I do wrong?"
The raven regarded him for a few moments, eyes still ablaze. Kei squirmed under the intense scrutiny. No one needed to tell him that the other man was holding back, he was quite certain he was not seeing the full extent of his boss' wrath and should the man unleash what he kept caged in, Kei would not leave unscathed.
"You were the last person to come into my office last night."
A statement, not a question. Kei confirmed with a nod.
"You were supposed to drop off a ledger."
"I did."
A nod. "You locked the office behind you," the narrative went on in a voice devoid of emotion.
"Yes sir."
"So," the man's voice dipped into a conspiratorial whisper, "care to explain why I walked into my office this morning to find that a particular envelope has been taken from my desk drawer?"
Kei blinked. "What?" his rasp was barely audible under the sound of his pounding heart. "Taken?"
Eyes instantly narrowed in warning. "Don't play dumb with me," the raven growled as hostility crept into his voice.
Gradually realisation dawned. The man thought he took it because Kei was the last person to enter his office last night, it was he who had locked the room. Except he had not taken it. He honest to God did not open the drawer much more pick anything from inside the damn thing. "I didn't take it."
"Someone did."
"But it wasn't me," he protested weakly, hardly able to squeeze a coherent denial through his tight throat. "You're mistaken."
Amber eyes flashed. "Who was it then? You're the only one who came in here after working hours yesterday. I saw it before I left so I know for sure no one took it while I was here. You're the one Kenma handed my keys to, once locked my door cannot be opened from the outside without a key which means no one had access to my office after you. So then, who could it possibly have been?"
"I don't know who it could have been," he tried, though the dreadful churning in his stomach told him it was futile. The man had already made up his mind, and no matter how much he begged him to reconsider, Kei knew his work here was over. He had been dubbed a thief and until the envelope was recovered, he was going to remain a thief in the eyes of this man. Yet, he persisted. "I dropped it on your table and left immediately. I promise I didn't stay longer than a few seconds and I swear I didn't take anything."
"I only have your word for it," the man replied tightly. "If it was here when you came in and no other person was here after you, it logically follows that you're the only one who could have taken it. I don't see how it might have slipped out of a closed drawer and a locked door." His eyes darkened dangerously. "The last thing I need is a thief working for me."
Kei already knew what the man thought of him, but it didn't stop his heart from twisting at the cruel accusation. The spite emanating from the man sitting across from him was palpable, the manner his words were delivered burned him the way acid would burn skin. The harshness was not necessary, it stung. His vision blurred and he had to blink several times to clear it. He glanced back at the figure reclined in his chair, and thought: eight months. Eight months he had worked for this same man without so much as an incident; the one time facts got mixed up, he was shown the door out without so much as a chance to defend himself.
"I didn't do it," Kei emphasised once more, his words barely carrying now. "I didn't take it, please, I'm not a thief." He would never take what did not belong to him. Never. Not without permission.
"You're lucky I'm not having you arrested," the raven snarled. "You have fifteen minutes to get out of here. Take longer than that, I'll call security."
Having said his piece, the boss swivelled his chair around, turning his back to Kei. He had just been dismissed. For a moment, his legs were too heavy to move. He opened his mouth to beg. He needed this job, there were needs he couldn't shoulder without the support of a well paying job.
"It wasn't me," Kei begged, already deflated. "Please let me__"
"Do not test me, Tsukishima," a cold voice jarred him. "I will have you thrown out when your time elapses. And so help me, if you ever set foot in this building, you will be escorted out in handcuffs. That's a promise."
Kei slowly got up. The man's back was still to him. He wondered if his former employer had even considered it remotely possible the he didn't commit the act he was accused of. Probably not. It didn't appear as though there might be a single shard of doubt in his mind that Kei did it. His denials held no credence to this man.
He bit his lips against the pleading tingling on them, knowing it will be a wasted effort. It might enrage his superior further, a risk Kei would rather avoid taking. He rose on unsteady feet, feeling his world tilt, and without a backward glance, excused himself from the plush office.
•~•
The changing room was thankfully empty. Kei didn't think he was capable of holding a conversation or listening to care free chatter or looking anyone in the eye without pretending his world hadn't just crashed and burned.
He stripped down to his underwear, unseeing, unfeeling. Thinking. What was he to do? His needs ran high, there were many demands and too little supply. As an undergrad, he had no qualifications beyond a secondary school certificate, obviously not enough to land him a well paying job. He'd felt secure here with the great pay and bonuses, he'd believed he could cope until he graduated. He'd been grounded.
And now he'd been kicked out on the curb, left high and dry, his initial security reduced to mere rubble in the twinkle of an eye.
Should he go back and beg for... What? A reconsideration? Pity? Forgiveness? What would it take to appease that man and get his job back? Kei hadn't just felt the man's anger, he'd practically tasted it. His boss had exercised commendable restraint keeping his fury in check. Pushing his luck by going back to talk to him will be ill advised.
What could he do? How could he undo any of this?
A tiny crack split his wall of numbness and little by little, flecks of emotion drifted in like unassuming flakes of snow. And like those tiny flakes, they came to rest on each other, mounting, piling up, forming a definite mass. The wisps of feelings solidified and Kei realised he was sad and hurt, and amidst those plethora of emotions, he was embittered. Against life, fate, luck, favour. He wanted to scream at the powers that be until his throat spilt. He wanted to take all he felt, mould them into a hard lump and hurl it at the being supposedly pulling his strings of fortune.
What was wrong with him? Why was nothing working out for him at all? Why was it that when a singular door opened and it seemed like a window of opportunity had come, the door slammed unrepentantly in his face. Why was it that he'd had to get used to having something good before it was yanked unceremoniously away?
Why? Why him?
Drawing a sharp breath, Kei pushed off the closet and forced himself into his street clothes, moving feverishly in case one of the guys walked in. He slung his messenger bag across his chest, and snorted when he checked the time: five minutes left. He'd been given enough time to pack up and get out but not enough to fight to defend himself.
He straightened up and tried to gather as much courage as he would need to make it out of the building. He was going to have to leave through the kitchen exit so as not to run into too many of his co-workers -former co-workers. The same people he had greeted on his way in. They would see him leave in his street clothes and they would know something had happened and not in the good way. It won't take long for the whole building to know he'd been let go.
He shut his eyes and counted to ten. The walk won't take long, he told himself, he'd put on his headphones and pretend he can't see a thing. Easy.
Taking a deep breath, he strode out of the changing room, eyes low, trying to look less shaken than he felt. He moved through the corridor in quick, long strides in order to avoid anyone, hastily taking the few turns necessary to get to his destination. He knew eyes were on him, maybe a few persons tried talking to him but Kei would sooner bite off his tongue than pay them any mind. He knew he was being rude, he just couldn't care. If only the earth would be kind enough to swallow him and vomit him at home.
Soon as he went through the kitchen doors, and though the eyes on him were more here, he prayed with the whole of his heart that he made it to the back exit before his legs gave out under him. He was ashamed, knowing the rumours would start before he left the building. No one would ask him what his side of the story was, no one would believe he was innocent. They would speculate, mix facts with imagination until the story itself got blown out of proportion.
He weaved past chefs, brushing against them as they did their meal preps at their various workstations. The walk felt longer than usual, it was like it kept stretching on the faster he walked. Finally getting to his exit, he paused, and, unable to resist, Kei turned to take a last look at the place that no longer wanted him. He never thought he was going to say this, but he would miss this place. With it's bustling activities, interesting clientele and their stupid ass unnecessary snobbery; he would miss their heavy tips and getting fed after each shift.
Turning, he turned the doorknob but a prickling sensation at the back of his neck made him pause. He felt eyes on him, boring twins holes in the back of his head. He was almost afraid to look, almost ignored it and stepped out into the safety of open air, but curiosity got the best of him. He looked back again, scanned the place and without warning, locked eyes with the boss. The man stood with the head chef, holding a plate of something steamy on one hand and a fork on the other while he listened to the smaller man. The raven was nodding at something Yaku was saying but his eyes were firmly locked on Kei's. Kei did not need to be close to know he amber eyes were aglow with fury.
And Kei knew without a doubt that Kuroo Tetsuro was never going to forgive him for something he did not do.