FANFIC: image change
29 November 2020 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyanoscarletIn which Kouyou takes Chuuya shopping after he is accepted into the Port Mafia.
(Companion fic to "a siblinghood in five acts".)
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A shopping trip is the last thing you expected for your first mentorship with Ane-san.
She hardly looks the frivolous type, you observe, even as she wears all those thick robes and ribbons and flower pins in her hair. “One’s manner of dressing tells who you are without need for words.”
First impressions, too, are important, especially in a large-scale organization like the Mafia. You learn all of these, little by little, with an earnest desire to do things right this time.
(You thought you already knew how to survive in this cruel world, until everything you know has been snatched from you.
It’s why you accepted the black fedora offered to you, on bended knee.)
You enter an upscale boutique— the first of many, Ane-san assures you— with a bowed head and both hands in your pockets. The suit jacket alone makes you think in numbers, as you wonder how many meals it can buy.
Ane-san senses your guilt at once, bringing you back to your senses with an almost-imperceptible tap on your shoulder. “A full outfit for my associate here, please,” she beckons to the assistant there. He meekly shows you the fitting room, and you feel yourself relax, just a bit.
You come out of there with the smallest-available three-piece suit in hand, swapping out the black vest for a wine-red one because you don’t want to match outfits with the suicidal bastard. Ane-san nods encouragingly, and you are proud of yourself for it.
(“Live not on the approval of others alone. Always carry your own pride in your heart.”
You start to change, too, little by little.)
You forget the hours as you visit more shops, your wallet thinning and your heart bursting. You wonder at how each bag and each box is both heavy and light at the same time— oh, clothes do make a man, you realize happily, trying not to cry.
The last place you visit carries accessories, too. The early sunset is distorted by the glass doors, and you blink—
That’s when it catches your eye: a soft, black thing, with a sliver of a gem hanging from the thin buckle, reflecting the same sunset as if it beckons you to itself.
You find yourself touching it longingly before you know it. A soft squeak from the cashier brings you back to the present, and you bow your head again, shoving your hands in your pockets.
Ane-san chuckles from behind. You slowly turn to her, ears and cheeks as flushed as your hair. She only smiles and nods back.
All at once, you forget you are an associate of the mafia, and ask for that choker like a child on Christmas morning. That last purchase turns out to be the most expensive for the day, but the small box you now carry is your most prized possession.
You can already imagine yourself, decked out in full regalia after today. “Chin up, eyes forward. You’re doing well.”
A single tear leaks out this time. Ane-san notices the way the fading sunlight glints off the trail down your cheek. She holds you closer to her side this time, out in the open. “You must be tired. Shall we have dinner?”
You blink back the rest of your happiness and nod in earnest. “Yes, ma'am. I’m absolutely famished.”
Today, you decide, is the best day of your life, by far, and you promise, too, to grow into your own, into the best version of yourself you can be proudest of, bar none.
