... An old man, that was what he thought was distracted (nah, it's a joke).
He bumped into a boy, who was called Hajime, Fukuda Hajime, the popular one, the one with the slimy bitches, among other names.
"Are you okay?" he said cleaning his clothes and helping her to her feet.
-Yes- she said
P.O.V Kenjirō
-Here is the king of Rome, I don't understand how Akira can like it- I thought, but what I didn't notice was my bitter face of few friends.
-Hello- Akira said with his honeyed voice which surprised me since he almost always uses his bitter and raspy/rough voice. He uses it a lot with me, but not with the others -except for him-.
-Hello? Are you talking to me? - he replied.
-Yes, I had to tell you something- I interrupted her because I knew where the topic was going.
"We have to go" I said seriously.
"Huh?" Was the only thing she said.
-Bye? You'll tell me again- he said before disappearing around the corner.
3rd person narrator
When Hajime left, Akira and Kenjirō went to their respective houses, but Akira couldn't shake that image of Hajime in front of her and how her friend had ruined being with him.
While she was thinking that Kenjirō was sitting on his futon (Japanese bed) cursing the day Akira met Hajime. Cursing the existence of that boy until he fell asleep.
In a place a little further away from our two protagonists...
-*Did you do what I asked you? No? Listen kid, I like you but you're a fucking bastard, I have a lot more economic power than you so either you bring it to me or I'll crush you like you're a fucking and disgusting fly *- A phone call was heard.
-Yes, yes I know but you should come where I am boy, here you will calm down seeing the hips of the women and their breasts moving to the rhythm of the music, apart from your money I am interested but I don't think you can beat me- Answers a man older than about 30 years old, as if carved by the gods themselves, a tall, blond boy, blue eyes, a little crushed, with a little muscle, but not too exaggerated, he smelled of alcohol mixed with man's perfume, the cigar that he had next to him and his black suit made him look like a businessman looking for someone to cheat (Calm down writer, calm down).
-*You're a pig, you know I respect women and you tell me to go to a whorehouse, a pig, a son of a bitch, and by the way I'm not going to kill you if you fail, I have other resources*- He said from the call .
-Easy beast, I'm a man who wants to have fun- Saying this, he separates a little from the phone- Waiter! Another whiskey, please. And ask the whore in black lingerie to get a room, because tomorrow she'll be in a wheelchair, dammit- Having said this, she goes to the phone- When are we meeting?
-*Tomorrow at 0h in Shibuya street, see you kid*- He hangs up the phone.
-What a kid, right Maki? - Said the man.
-Yes sir- answered the woman with lingerie who had recently come.
"Let's go to bed," he replied.
Uff..., what a night it was for the girl, in a few hours when the whorehouse was only for beds and without strippers, they would only hear moans more moans and some grunts.
What this man was passionate about were pretty girls, but he adored the strong ones and those who resisted, as his next victim was going to be.