Zenkichi barely had time to breathe before Hamuko was right there, hands on her hips, grinning like she’d just found the perfect new game.
She was really playing it up, sneering at him like a gang leader about to shake him down for lunch money.
Zenkichi leaned back, eyes narrowing as he tried to reclaim his personal space—tried being the key word. Hamuko wasn’t letting up. She was right in his face, too close for him to do anything except stiffen slightly as if that could make her back off. It didn’t.
He tried to wave her off with the most unimpressed look he could muster. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I—”
"Akane is my responsibility," he continued, standing his ground as if that somehow made him look cooler, more collected. “She’s only fourteen—”
“Depending on the day,” Akane corrected smoothly before the board, watching the whole thing unfold like she was enjoying premium entertainment.
Zenkichi’s head snapped toward her, giving her a sharp look. “Okay, no, we’re not doing the quantum physics age math thing again.”
Akane huffed, the ghost of a smirk on her face, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she let her attention drift toward the couch where Zenkichi had tossed his hat earlier.
Without a word, she stood up, walking over and idly picking it up, turning it over in her hands before speaking. “I want to make some notes.”
That made Zenkichi pause. “Huh?”
“By hand,” she clarified, flipping the hat once before setting it back down. “Just to see the difference from digital.”
Then she turned to Hamuko, tilting her head slightly. “Can I borrow some of your pink paper?”
no subject
She was really playing it up, sneering at him like a gang leader about to shake him down for lunch money.
Zenkichi leaned back, eyes narrowing as he tried to reclaim his personal space—tried being the key word. Hamuko wasn’t letting up. She was right in his face, too close for him to do anything except stiffen slightly as if that could make her back off. It didn’t.
He tried to wave her off with the most unimpressed look he could muster. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I—”
"Akane is my responsibility," he continued, standing his ground as if that somehow made him look cooler, more collected. “She’s only fourteen—”
Zenkichi’s head snapped toward her, giving her a sharp look. “Okay, no, we’re not doing the quantum physics age math thing again.”
Akane huffed, the ghost of a smirk on her face, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she let her attention drift toward the couch where Zenkichi had tossed his hat earlier.
That made Zenkichi pause. “Huh?”
“By hand,” she clarified, flipping the hat once before setting it back down. “Just to see the difference from digital.”
Then she turned to Hamuko, tilting her head slightly. “Can I borrow some of your pink paper?”