Omi Tsukiyono (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oneblackcat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synergetic2016-07-31 01:25 am
oneblackcat) wrote in synergetic2016-07-31 01:25 am
[KBP] Trailer Trash
Two days later, his head still hadn’t cleared.
The motions were the same. Go to school, work the trailer, mediate squabbles (okay, he’d never quite resorted to ending one by hosing them down before, but he wasn’t really sorry, either), spend evenings doing homework or catching up on the news. It was inside that was different. Conflicted.
What else could you call it, when someone took a child with nowhere else to go, and set them on a path to murder? But on the other hand, was that such a horrible thing when it was for something that gave purpose to an existence that otherwise wouldn’t have it? Didn’t the city need someone to do that kind of work? And wasn’t it only right, only fair, to give such a grim and terminal occupation to someone whose life was otherwise already over anyway? Surely that was better than taking away someone with other things to live for, like family or romance or indispensable talent.
With that in mind, how could he leave, even to a position fighting crime in more legal ways? There were plenty of people to do that! If he left, someone else would be brought into his place, and how could he know they would care as much as he did about taking care of Aya, Ken, and Youji? How would he know they cared as much as he did about doing something about the innocent deaths?
But were those things he cared about because of who he was, or things he cared about because he’d been taught to by someone else who chose this path for him? What if—
PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Omi shrieked and cringed as a blast of cold water sprayed him for what must have been six solid seconds, leaving him quite thoroughly drenched.
"You're getting lines around your mouth. None of the girls will want you anymore."
“Youji-kun...!”
Ken, who looked entirely too satisfied with this stunt, stepped over with a grin and playfully flicked his forehead. “Serves ya right, Omi. He who sprays first...”
“You were arguing!”
“I don’t see how that factors into rules of payback. Looks like the score is even now.”
Omi moaned and wrung out his shirt tail. He wanted a towel.
The motions were the same. Go to school, work the trailer, mediate squabbles (okay, he’d never quite resorted to ending one by hosing them down before, but he wasn’t really sorry, either), spend evenings doing homework or catching up on the news. It was inside that was different. Conflicted.
What else could you call it, when someone took a child with nowhere else to go, and set them on a path to murder? But on the other hand, was that such a horrible thing when it was for something that gave purpose to an existence that otherwise wouldn’t have it? Didn’t the city need someone to do that kind of work? And wasn’t it only right, only fair, to give such a grim and terminal occupation to someone whose life was otherwise already over anyway? Surely that was better than taking away someone with other things to live for, like family or romance or indispensable talent.
With that in mind, how could he leave, even to a position fighting crime in more legal ways? There were plenty of people to do that! If he left, someone else would be brought into his place, and how could he know they would care as much as he did about taking care of Aya, Ken, and Youji? How would he know they cared as much as he did about doing something about the innocent deaths?
But were those things he cared about because of who he was, or things he cared about because he’d been taught to by someone else who chose this path for him? What if—
PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Omi shrieked and cringed as a blast of cold water sprayed him for what must have been six solid seconds, leaving him quite thoroughly drenched.
"You're getting lines around your mouth. None of the girls will want you anymore."
“Youji-kun...!”
Ken, who looked entirely too satisfied with this stunt, stepped over with a grin and playfully flicked his forehead. “Serves ya right, Omi. He who sprays first...”
“You were arguing!”
“I don’t see how that factors into rules of payback. Looks like the score is even now.”
Omi moaned and wrung out his shirt tail. He wanted a towel.
no subject
The man was hovering at the edge of the merchandise set-ups, his display of uncertainty a little too practiced. Should he approach? Was this really the traveling flower shop? Youji did not want to deal with him.
"Sir, if you've got questions, may I recommend Omi-kun," said Youji, with the sort of cheerfulness he saved up for months and expended only when playing the honey trap. "You can see how dedicated he is to his craft. Why, the only way for him to understand the flowers better to do as they do!"
The man laughed politely, and Youji felt something prick in the back of his mind. The man was playing a part of some sort, and yet something was familiar about him. Youji's instincts told him the man was far from his comfort zone, and Youji wondered if that was why his brain was failing to fill in the blank.
"If Omi-kun isn't otherwise occupied, I'd appreciate the help," he said, in a foreigner's precise speech.
no subject
It was that laziness to which Omi also attributed his being volunteered as the one to help their latest customer, who was clearly a rich foreigner, though he did sound like he had a good grasp of the language, which was lucky. It would be very rude to defer the man to Ken or back to Youji, as though he were something undesirable, so despite his soaked status, Omi smiled and started over. Ken threw a towel on his head in the process; Omi didn't know if he appreciated it or was annoyed, but said nothing and hastily scrubbed the excess water off so at least he wasn't dripping wet now.
"I'm sorry for the unruliness," he said, looking appropriately embarrassed. "What interests you today, sir?"
no subject
He gestured to a display of white lilies and chrysanthemums.
"I wouldn't expect you to get much funerary work, traveling so much. Seems like you'd be more suited to spontaneous things, like forgotten dates."
no subject
He started to reach for the indicated flowers, but what the man said didn't sit well with him. He looked over his shoulder in curious confusion.
"Forgive my rudeness, but-- how do you know how much traveling we do?"
It was a mobile shop, sure, but that didn't necessarily mean much. The travel could easily be all local, or simply the most economical option, with their location as stationary as a brick-and-mortar store. The mention of it bothered him.
no subject
Bruce wasn't quite sure if that exchange made him careless or Omi very astute. He preferred the latter, and since he wanted to think highly of Omi, he decided to go with it.
"I'll be honest, I don't know much about funeral flowers in this country and what's appropriate, but I read a story in the papers about a family that's struggling a bit to cover some end of life costs, so I wanted to help."
no subject
He softened further hearing the charitable explanation. He sounded like a selfless and thoughtful man. Omi liked that, and offered a sad smile. "I see... That's very sad for the family, and kind of you to want to help. Typically, lilies and yellow chrysanthemums are used in funerals. However, if your intention is to help cover costs, koden is usually the favored method. It's a monetary gift enclosed in an envelope and presented on entering the funeral hall. 2,000 yen is the standard for those who don't know the deceased well.
"You could also send a hanawa for condolences. That's a large wreath used in funerals. We can put one of those together and deliver it for you."
no subject
He was slightly surprised by Omi's quick empathy, but it seemed sincere and that was good. He was wondered absently if Omi was curious as to the manner of death, and hadn't yet decided on how much he dared allude to it.
"But maybe, also, trying to offset too much would be bullheaded." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "Watashi wa hen na gaijin desu." I am a strange foreigner.
no subject
And Omi trailed off there, because it was impolite to say anything else. He hoped the reluctance in his tone for the last line would convey the true point, however, that while the man technically could, it wasn't advisable. For someone who didn't have any close tie to the deceased, a large amount of money would likely make the family deeply uncomfortable and embarrassed. It called attention to their financial situation, effectively communicating the sender thought them incapable of handling their duty on their own. That would bring more shame than relief and gratitude. It was probably meant well, but for the sake of allowing the family to save face, it seemed like a bad idea to overshoot.
no subject
And he didn't have to; he wasn't a florist. The killing-for-hire probably brought in much better money, yet here he was... invested in this little transaction. Trying to make things easier on the customer, trying to give the customer a good experience, and patiently explaining things to a rich, pompous idiot with no idea of even the number of customs he was trampling over.
It spoke well for him. It gave Bruce confidence that there was a real Omi, buried below the assassin, that just needed a little spot in the sunlight to come out on his own.
"I'd like to commission the hanawa, then, to be delivered shortly before the service itself. Would it be improper to include a koden with it?"
no subject
"In any case, the hanawa is an excellent choice. It should be fine to stop by and leave a koden as well." Assuming a modest amount was used as suggested, but that much should be understood. While it was a subtle word choice, Omi got the impression from the man's reply that he'd successfully grasped the need to keep the koden donation low. He wasn't totally out of water with standard communication patterns, if his own self-deprecating manner and ability to translate indirect speech was any indication.
"Do you have the name of the deceased?" He could look up the date, time and location of the service from that, and it seemed more likely this man would know the name of the person than the details of the service.
no subject
But Omi should recognize the date of death.
"If it's possible to pay immediately, I'd like to, but if the price adjusts depending on the labor involved and it needs to be billed at a later date, that's fine."
no subject
Kanazawa Yuuichiro. Omi recognized the name: their most recent target. The one he'd been captured for. Captured by...oh, shit.
Comprehension dawned on Omi, and with it a flood of nervousness and discomfort. He looked again into that foreigner's face, and it was impossible to match it to the one that had worn a cowl earlier, but the voice... Yes. That voice was the same. It was him.
Batman.
"Mr. Wayne," he says in address. His way of communicating, without necessarily tipping off his friends, that he knew exactly who he was talking to now.
"Of course... we can arrange for an immediate charge at a flat rate." And his pitch jumps. "My, it really is an honor and surprise for you to come to our little shop!" And he's laughing now: false, uncomfortable laughter to the perfect pitch of a customer service worker who's just been put in a supremely awkward position, and that he fully intends to dismiss to Ken and Youji as horror from realizing what a rich guy he's serving up while drenched in water and hosting a thoroughly unprofessional-looking shop.
no subject
"Much obliged," he said easily. "Now that you've found me out, I suppose I should tell you. Kanazawa-san's wife is an employee of one of my local subsidiaries, I met her and her children during a tour of it the other day. My own parents died very suddenly when I was young, and I wanted her to know that the Wayne Enterprises family is here to support her in any capacity she needs, whether it's grief leave or college scholarships when the children are older."
Idly, he wondered if he'd be able to see Omi's true reaction beneath the polite professionalism he was trapped into displaying.
no subject
Later, Omi will reconsider the political entanglements of Bruce Wayne to this mission and see the motivations behind the ambush and capture in a different light. In the moment, however, the part that grabs his attention is the mention of wife and children in the first place. Targets aren't supposed to have those.
Or rather, Omi's not used to hearing about their existence, and it's shocking, jarring, disturbing, horrific when he's forced to consider it. And with how terrible Omi is at masking most of his emotions, the effect is plainly evident for any to see.
"Children...?"
Ken wrinkles his eyebrows and turns more to face Omi, taking a step towards him.
"Hey, you okay, Omi? Your face seems pale."
"I-it's nothing...! I'm fine."
He's not fine.
no subject
"It's tragic for them," he said, by way of closing, "but I think they'll make it somehow."
He bowed.
"I'll go ahead and ring you up," Youji said all of a sudden, and steered Bruce back toward the register. "Let Omi get started on the pretty work."