Good Intentions

1

Leo's supply of instant ramen has run out once again. This is already the second time, and it's only Thursday

He pushes the empty bowl of ramen off the computer desk and focused his attention back to the desktop screen, which is currently displaying all available information of the city's top mafia The Red Koi. This would be useful if he hadn't read it all already. He tried countless times finding anything that could possibly help me get into their database system, but so far it's been a bust. The most and farthest Leo was able to reach was changing their main computer's wallpaper (He changed it from a default flower wallpaper to a photo of his masked face flipping them off), which is impressive considering how big and powerful their group is.

Why did he need to get into their system? Demand and revenge.

He hasn't been able to eat well in the last few weeks because he wasn't able to appease any requests from clients. Many companies like to hire Leo to interfere with their rivals in order to mess up their online systems. Video and online gaming companies have been his main clients, but isn't limited to them only. Today he just failed his fiftieth attempt at trying to get into this group's system.

With a frustrated sigh, Leo pushes away from the clutter-filled desk and get up. All of the trash that has been accumulated for the last few weeks makes the already small apartment feel even smaller, but he's been too stressed out to do any cleaning. With the amount of money he earns per successful request, he could move out to a bigger place in a smaller city, but Akihabara is home.

One of the many great things about Japan is that many convenience stores are open late, and they have made-ready hot food. He's sick of eating ramen and I have a headache from spending too much time inside, so he decides to head to a convenience store right under my apartment for some fresh air.

It's three in the morning but the night life is as active as daytime; blinking bright neon lights, streets buzzing with conversation, the smell of cigarettes and exhaust, all of it so endearing to him. He can hear some anime theme song playing faintly in the distance when he walks down the stairs leading to my place of residence. The glow of the 7/11 sign nearly blinds Leo and it takes him a few seconds for his eyes to fully adjust to the abrupt change of light.

The usual night shift cashier greets Leo like always as he makes his way to the aisle of ramen. He curses quietly when he see that his favourite brand of ramen is out of stock. He doesn't want to make the effort to come back tomorrow, so he grabs a few packs of a different flavour of the same brand without much thought. It isn't much, but it should be enough to get through tomorrow until he's able to fulfil another request. When he takes his eyes from the shelf, he notices a man quickly looking away as if he were just staring at him. Leo ignores it and makes his way to the cash register to pay for his pathetic excuse of groceries.

He take the ramen before the cashier can give him a receipt and mutter a quick thank you. The night air and the sound of music hits him once more when the automatic doors open.

He hasn't taken his suppressants yet but he doesn't give it much thought since his apartment is above the store. Being an omega can be a very troublesome. It's a big reason why his job favours it, because he doesn't have to go out too often. When he does take my suppressants, he prefers not to go outside anyway. Japan may be small compared to many countries, but it's been the only world he's known so far, and the unknown can be terrifying to think about.

He is suddenly bursted out of his thoughts when an overwhelming force pushes him against the wall of the alleyway and the bowls of ramen tumble out of his hands and onto a small puddle. Leo is about to look up and shout at the idiot who pushed him, but an offending hand grasps his crotch and a pair of intruding lips attach themselves to his neck. He curses to himself again, loud this time. He wasn't careful enough. How stupid must he have been to decide that not taking any suppressants before heading out would be okay?