Chapter Text
Pigsy could be described as a tired soul. He was tired of slogging through life, he was tired of being looked at like a freak, he was tired of sleepless nights and nightmares, he was tired of putting on a mask for his friends so as not to worry them, but most of all he was tired of not having a place to belong.
There was no place in the world that was made specifically for him, and there was no place that he felt like he could force himself into. He was like a square shape in a world of circles
So he rolled up his sleeve and carved out himself a place he could belong. A place he could stay. He built his restaurant from the ground up, he always enjoyed cooking after all, and he cooked what he wanted to eat. His shop was his square shape for him. He worked hard and he worked long hours and eventually he got to a point that he felt like he could confidently say he had a place in this world.
He would lay in bed at night and whisper to his soul a little soothing mantra. 'you can stay here'
And some nights he would actually believe it.
But other times he wouldn't. Today was a day that he didn't. But he kept that confession close to his chest, throwing himself into his work and letting the rhythm of his job distract him.
He placed three new orders on a tray and rang the bell at the counter.
"Order for Kyle!" Pigsy shouted, it had two beef bowls and a side of spring rolls for the Three teens that entered his shop about fifteen minutes ago. He scowled at the rowdy bunch as they continued to ignore the call for their food. He lets out a sigh clearing his throat before bellowing out the name again.
"ORDER FOR KYLE!" He shouts causing a few other patrons to turn their heads including the group of teens. They look to the counter and elbow the youngest-looking one in the side. A scrawny kid with espresso-colored hair and a ratty leather jacket that looked a size too big for him. Pigsy knows the type, just a bunch of stupid teens with stupid plans that will end up in dead-end jobs and an addiction to booze. He would pity them if he knew it wasn't their own fault.
The teen drawing the short straw scooted out of the booth heading over to collect their orders from the counter.
"Thanks" he mumbled, taking the tray and balancing it with his hands, Pigsy grunted in return, at least this one had some manners compared to the rest. The sound of fighting draws his attention and both he and the teen look to where the two boys wrestle in the booth, knocking over utensils and condiments in their wake. Pigsy frowns feeling his blood pressure rise.
"Sorry about them…" the boy apologized on their behalf, bowing his head slightly in shame. Now that Pigsy thinks about it, this one was probably the only one that has manors out of the whole group. Polite when he entered, and with a please and thank you on his lips. Makes him think he's hanging out with the wrong kids. He wants to kick the whole group out but he promised Tang he would try this new thing called ‘patience’
The loud laughter and his throbbing head make him wonder if this patient was worth it.
"Take my advice and find yourself some new friends." Pigsy wipes down the counter and The brunet ducks his head sheepishly.
"Yo MK!! Bring the food over already!" The taller of the two orders before he scurries away the food still balanced between his hands.
Pigsy watched with feigned disinterest as the teen deposited the two bowls for the two other teens and placed the spring rolls in front of himself. They were the cheapest thing on the menu and Pigsy remembered he paid with exact change. He huffs and shrugs his shoulders. It wasn't his place to worry about it. He had work to do.
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The closing time finally came for the pigman and he couldn't thank the gods enough. He might enjoy his work, but he was getting up there in age and his back suffered more than his patients in a day. Tang insisted that he hire on an extra set of hands to help but he always shrugged him off claiming it was too much work to train someone.
But when he felt at least ten bones pop back into place when he locked up for the night he was starting to consider the weight of Tang’s words. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and tucked the money bag from this week's earnings under his arm. It was Friday which meant he had to make a run to the bank to drop the bag into the slot before the closed
He let out a sigh. The outdoor lights flickering in a way that felt like they were sympathizing with his mood. There was no one around other than a group of teens smoking cigarettes in an alleyway. He recognized them as the same group from his shop from earlier. They were ALL too young to be smoking but he really did have the time or high ground to comment on lung cancer. He side-eyes as they laugh and press their shared cigarette into the hands of the youngest of the group, he seemed to laugh nervously denying the dangerous stick but his peers kept pressuring him,
“Come on, smoke it pussy.” clearly the ‘alpha’ of the group. They still seemed hesitant to take it but were weak under peer pressure because as Pigsy passed by he could hear them cough from behind followed by teasing laughter.
Pigsy hopes that his shop didn't become their regular hang-out place, paying customers or not. He tunes out their fading laughter….and then tunes in to the sound of hushed whispers and approaching footsteps. Pigsy felt his ears perk as three sets of footsteps started to descend on him like a pack of hyenas. He kept his pace the same as he felt his adrenaline kick in.
Pigsy wasn’t stupid. He had lived in the city long enough to know when he was about to get jumped. His grip tightened around the bag of money under his arm subtly. Of course, the one day he didn't take the truck is the day he gets tailed.
And he had enough experience to know what to do about it. He keeps his leisure pace, making them think he hasn't caught on to them tailing him yet.
It's just the three, and they aren't even information based on how their footsteps are far apart and uneven. Rookies. He could just jet as soon as he turned a corner, the advantage of knowing the city at night and surprise on his side.
But for some reason he ignores the logical side of his brain, giving in to the instincts of wanting to fight, to throw a punch or two, get dirty, get bloody. Feel something, even if it was pain. Tang would be disappointed to hear him talk like that. But he wasn't thinking about Tang or the consequences.
Plus these kids clearly weren't professionals, if he gave them a good ass-kicking and they left to go lick their wounds they probably would think twice before taking up thievery as a career choice. He turns a corner and stops waiting for the following footsteps to catch up. When the group of teens turns the corner he's waiting for them with a wicked smile.
"Lovely night for a stroll," he comments and he's returned with a scowl. He sizes up his opponents. Three kids, one with bleached blond hair, probably Kyle, and another with an unnatural shade of green. Dyed likely from a box. Behind the two is the sheepish brunette in the oversized leather jacket.
The preverbal bell is rung and the green-haired boy charges him fist raised apparently In no mood for small talk. Pigsy is ready for him and he shifts his weight quickly, his own fist raised.
it solid in the gut and it downs them and they let out a little swear as they crumpled to the side. He didn't have time to celebrate his victory because the second Bleach blond mistake is taking the place of the first, his fists up.
Pigsy cracks his neck examining his new opponent. Sloppy posture, no muscle mass and he had his thumb tucked into his fist. He can't help but grin when he feels his body tighten ready for a good fight. Boxing was his therapist's idea of a 'healthy outlet', so surely they won't mind if he uses his healthy outlet for a healthy butt whooping.
"Give us the money old man!" They growled and Pigsy only frowned in response. Running your mouth in a fight never won you any prizes. They take his silence as surrender or something akin to it because they let out a shout and charge.
Pigsy easily side steps them grabbing their arm and with their momentum flips them onto their side. That leaves the last kid, the frightened brunette looks at his fallen comrade with wide eyes and looks like he might retreat in the next second. That would be smart.
But then he's surprised by the swiftness of the last kid who manages to fake left on him and then changes directions last second. His money bag is snatched from his grip and the kid stumbles away with it pulled to his chest, eyes still wide like a frightened deer or more likely he's surprised that it worked.
"Alright MK!" The second shorter teen whoops with glee getting his breath back and clambering to his feet.
It's a chase after that. They dart off together like fireworks and Pigsy is hot on their trail following the sparks.
"Get back here!" He shouts feelings his lungs burn and his short legs tire. He was gonna lose them if this kept up any longer. The money bag is tossed from the youngest to the leader of the group like a football and they made a hard right down an alleyway. And thank the GODS it's a dead end because he's not sure if he could run anymore. A chain-link fence cuts off his would-be thieves and they look left and right like cornered cats.
"Boost me up!" The leader of the group shouts and immediately the youngest is taking a knee lifts the first over the fence
"Oh no you don't!" Pigsy growls watching the second get boosted up next, leaving the last kid to climb over by himself. He has the skill of a monkey easily climbing halfway up the fence in just a couple of seconds.
And he would have gotten all the way over the fence too if he wasn't yanked back by the collar of his jacket by a very enraged pigman.
"Ah!!" The kid lets out a shout as he is colliding with the pavement. Loyalty among thieves is apparently a false statement because his mates abandon him as soon as he is caught. And of COURSE, the money bag is in the possession of the escaping teens because why not.
He pulls the shaken teen up by the collar and he can see red. His eyes meet frightened chocolate brown and he can practically see all the regrets flash across his face.
"YOU!" he growls, giving them a little shake from the collar.
“Let me go!” the kid wriggled and squirmed in Pigsy’s grasp but to no avail, it was like holding a kitten by the scruff, it hissed and swiped but had no real weight to throw around.
“Not a chance!” he shouted, giving the teen a little shake, his grip remaining firm on the grimy leather jacket’s neck. He drags the kid to his feet and grabs him by the arm roughly tugging him along back out of the alleyway.
“I’m taking you to the police!” he grunts out feeling the kid continue to tug weakly against his hold but he only tightens his grip “Then we are going to call your parents,” he adds on and the kid brunette almost falls to his knees when he stumbles over his feet.
“My parents?!” he lets out a little squeak, his face pales And his voice taking on a new level of distress. Serves him right, a stern scolding from parents and a spook from the police would set the kid straight real quick.
“What do you expect? That you could get away running with a gang and STEALING and not get in trouble?” the kid looks around frantically as if wanting to find a way out, his fear taking on a new peak. He digs his heels in and starts trying to pry the pigman fingers off his wrist.
“No! D-don't tell them! Please! Let me go let me go!” he’s yelling now and decides that being dead weight was a better tactic because he falls to his knees trying to weakly pull the fingers off him. Pigsy lets out a gasp at almost being jerked to the floor and before he can open his mouth to yell at them again he notices how much they are shaking.
“Please…..” he begs again looking up to Pigsy with watery eyes. “Please don't tell them. I’ll do anything just don't tell t-them.” he pleads, shaking his body like a leaf in a storm. It's enough to halt Pigsy in his tracks and loosen his grip on the boy. As much as he regrets to think about it, he had seen the eyes of a man that was begging for their life. The wide pooling eyes of fear that beseech you for a single thread of mercy that they could grasp onto and pull themselves out with.
So why did those eyes match up perfectly with this kid?
He loosens his grip but only to haul them to their feet. He grabs them by the shoulders lifting them up so they were standing in front of him now.
“I don't think I need to tell you that stealing is wrong, and what you did SHOULD end you up in some sort of trouble.” the kid sniffs wiping his nose quickly from the snot that started to dribble there.
“However….” he rubs his chin knowing he was going to regret this. “... I’m willing to not press charges if you promise to work off the money that was taken.” he crosses his arms over his chest and the kid whips his head up with his jaw dropped.
“Y-you would do that?? Really?” he sounded breathless, almost like he expected it to be a hollow offer.
“Yeah, but you have to work off ALL the money, every cent got it?” The kids head bob up and down like a bobblehead enthusiastically and Pigsy worries that they have scrambled their brain by mistake in the process.
“Every cent!” He agrees with relife and Pigsy against his better judgment believes him. He knows he has thought this already but he had a feeling he was going to regret not pressing charges.
“What's your name kid?”
“X-Xiaotian, but I go by MK.”
“Alright MK, meet me back at my shop tomorrow morning at eight AM. not eight-o-five and not nine. Eight on the dot. Got it?” again the bobblehead is activated and he’s certain this time that he saw the kid's eyes roll around like googly eyes from the force.
“Yes sir!” the kid saluted and Pigsy rolled his own eyes holding out his hand with a give me motion.
“Phone. I’m giving you my number.” The kid, MK, scrambles to reach into the pocket of his leather jacket and hands him a flip phone of all things. Now Pigsy was an ‘old man’ according to most, so he liked old school technology like cassette tapes and such, but even he knew that flip phones were old school.
He raises a brow at MK who just smiles sheepishly in return. He flips open the phone and is greeted with a cracked screen. The background is a pixelated picture of a cartoon rendering of the great monkey king. He can’t help but snort when he thinks of what Tang would say.
He goes through the painstaking process of adding his number to MK’s contacts and shoots himself a text so he can have MK’s number before closing the phone with a snap and tossing itback to the teen.
“Go home. And you better show up tomorrow or I’m getting the cops involved.”
“Y-yes sir!” MK bows his head before scurrying off quickly into the night. Pigsy lets out a long sigh. He is willing to bet that is the last time he would see them, he would likely need to call the cops tomorrow about the stolen money.
He cracks his back again feeling the bones pop into place.
That was a problem for tomorrow though.
He begins his long journey back home letting the fall night surround him as he muses of what he should do if the kid actually doesn't show up tomorrow.
Obviously, the police will be involved, he almost wishes he got a picture of the kid's face just in case he needed to give them an extra description. Yeah, that would have been smart, and the kid wouldn't be in any position to say no either.
Well, it was too late now. A lot of should have could have tonight. He kicks a can that brushes his foot and it clunks against the sidewalk loudly.
It was Fall, which meant an increased flow of teens coming for food while they Were on fall break. there was a heavy sum of money in the drop bag due to this, it would likely take the kid at least a month to work off his debt. It was a good thing that Pigsy wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck, he managed his business rather well, and he had quite a bit saved up so if he missed one week of earnings it wouldn't put him in the red.
It would suck like hell but he would make it.