Love Addict’s RPG Vol. 2 Ch. 82

Surprise! Wasn’t sure if it’d be done today so I didn’t give a heads up, but it is. It’s a short one this time but I think it’s a really cute one and an important cutaway. Hope you enjoy.

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In times of great stress, Mia left home and went on a walk to clear her head. There was something about strolling the coastal city streets alone that always managed to soothe her. She loved taking in the sights and the sounds and observing the world from a passive outsider's perspective.

Sometimes, she even took a sketchbook along and studied anything that caught her eye, but tonight wasn't a sketchbook night. It was a zipped-up jacket, hood pulled over her head, hands in her pockets kind of night, and Mia was grumpily marching along the sidewalk without a destination in mind.

So much stupid crap was buzzing around in her head that she was starting to feel like she'd swapped brains with her boyfriend.

What annoyed her the most was that, for all intents and purposes, what happened with Zoe was the best-case scenario. She would've gone straight back to work the second she found out about being unbanned if this had happened a week ago- but she didn't. She stayed and played some more, even going so far as to force herself to do it.

That was amazing progress.

So why do I still feel like shit?

It wasn't that she wasn't proud of Zoe, more so that she was conditioned to expect the worst. For as much as she believed Oliver could pull off anything, in the back of her mind remained a seed of doubt she couldn't dig out.

Ups and downs aside, things had been great for Mia lately. She'd gotten together with her long-time crush, and despite the guy carrying more baggage than a cargo plane and almost certainly possessing some kind of shady secret potentially involving a magical flirting-based ability, Oliver was everything she could ever want in a partner.

He was cute, got along great with her friends, respected her boundaries, accepted her kinks, had a big dick... the list just goes on, really.

He even beat up her brothers- what more could a girl want?

Not much, which is why Mia felt so uneasy. It felt like something had to go wrong to make up for all this because something always did, and it was usually her own damn fault. Case in point; her wrist.

Zoe, too... Mia sighed, knowing she wasn't so innocent regarding her best friend's addiction. The truth ate at her, and seeing Zoe's relapse only made it worse. Mia carried a sudden onset of guilt she couldn't shake off, no matter how many streets she traversed.

It was hard to focus on the steps Zoe had already made towards recovery when you felt responsible for kicking her down the stairs to begin with.

And I just had to go and say that shit about her parents, didn't I? Jesucristo. There's passive aggressive, and then there's just being a cunt...

Guess which one's you, Mimi? Mn?

Mia kicked an aluminum can some asshole left on the sidewalk in a fit of pissy rage. Then, she took a deep breath and felt terrible about it, picking the can up and putting it in the next bin she came across.

Starting to think a walk wasn't the best idea. Can't say it's clearing my head all that much. Should've stayed in, gotten high, and gooned out to some new hentai manga...

Or not...

Wrist hurts just fucking thinking about it.

Mia pondered other ways to improve her mood, and what came to mind was the one thing that never failed. Grabbing some good food and pigging out. Not that it would really help. She'd feel better for as long as the food lasted before inevitably spending the next few days hating herself and eating nothing but rice.

She just couldn't win, and living in a bustling coastal paradise where anything and everything you could possibly want to eat was only a short walk away certainly didn't help. Neither did the fact that Mia was hungry, and a little further down the street was the twelfth food cart she'd seen since her walk began.

Chingada madre... Mia froze in place, staring straight at it with her mouth agape. She'd passed the others without batting an eye, but this one?

Of all the things...

Did it really have to be a traditional ramen cart straight the fuck out of Tokyo? 

Mia's stomach rumbled more and more the longer she refused to move past it. It fought for what it wanted, urging her to ignore the little willpower she had and give in. She resisted at every opportunity, intending to move past the cart without a second thought.

And then the rich, salty scent of ramen broth slammed into her face like a freight train. Mia glanced over at the cart, now outright salivating. She locked eyes with the only person present, the owner- a chubby Japanese man who looked around thirty- and felt twice as awkward over how she gaped.

Move it, trainwreck. Move your stupid little feet and stop staring. This is weird enough as it already is, damn it, so-

"Been running this stand for about four years now," the owner said while setting down his phone. "And never have I seen anyone look like they need some ramen half as bad as you do, lady- local homeless population included. Have a seat. I'll whip you up whatever you'd like."

"Ah, n-no, that's..." Mia bit her tongue. Without Oliver by her side sparking her courage, she defaulted back to being the same old wallflower as ever. She hated being put on the spot like this- especially by people she'd never met, and even more so when they offered food.

"I'm not that hungry, thanks," Mia forced out.

Sadly, words were not the only thing that left her mouth. A thin strand of drool dripped along for the ride. The owner stared at her in total silence as Mia faced a steadily increasing urge to run the fuck away and pretend this never happened.

However, recognition set in just as she was wiping her chin and getting ready to lift her foot.

"...Wait a sec- aren't you that karate dude my boyfriend beat up?"

"Probably? You'll need to be a lot more specific."

"White guy, skinny, a little bit taller than me, with curly black hair and a face like the most forlorn, down-on-his-luck twink in the world?"

"Oh, shit. You're Oliver's girl."

Mia blushed pretty hard at a stranger calling her that, though it was offset by the huge, crooked smile that suddenly cut its way across her face. "Sí. That'd be me."

"Akira,"

"Mia," she replied, becoming significantly more comfortable knowing that this stranger was someone her boyfriend wiped the floor with. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine. Now what are you waiting for? Come on and have a seat. I've been dying to know how everything panned out, so I'll give you a good deal on dinner if you run me through it."

"I, um... I can tell him to hit you up, but I really shouldn't... it's just that I'm on a diet, so..."

"Oh?" Akira raised a brow. "Which one?"

"The, um... depriving myself of things I like so that I don't overeat diet?"

"Had a feeling. One bowl's not gonna kill you, lady."

"I wouldn't stop at one," she sighed.

"More than one wouldn't kill you, either. Would it really be so bad to spoil yourself every once in a while?"

"Having a slow night tonight or what, pendejo? You really so hard up for cash you're trying to shake me down?"

"I do okay for myself. It's more that I'm trying to do right by my friend."

"Shit, I- agh... sorry... didn't mean any of that, I'm just having a rough night..."

"All the more reason to treat yourself,"

Mia bit her tongue and hesitantly scanned the menu. Hungry as she was, everything was calling out to her personally by name. She then swallowed some drool and closed her eyes. A fleeting reprieve from temptation before weighing her options.

Suppose it has been a pretty long time since I've given myself an inch of leeway...

And between Zoe, Rebecca, and the boss lady, it's not as if mi amor's explicitly got a thing for skinny bitches...

"Fuck it," Mia emptied her lungs in a colossal sigh. "I'm sure he'll love a fat cat just as much as a thin one."

"...Excuse me?"

"Saying I'll take one of everything," she said, sitting on the cart's center stall. "So get to it before I go and regret this."

"Yes, ma'am," Akira smiled and went straight to work.

Mia watched the chef perform his magic, finding the display a comforting distraction from her cyclical thoughts. She'd have been content with a silent performance, but the host had other plans. Akira soon started a conversation as he readied the ingredients for the first dish.

"So, that thing with your brothers...?"

"Happy to report mi amor essentially aced that test, despite mi hermano's best attempts at stopping him. Match was pretty wild. Lot of drama, lot of twists and turns, but hey, he got the girl..."

"I had a feeling he'd pull through. It's just a shame I couldn't have been there to see it. Sounds like I missed out on something special."

"Eh. No offense, but I'm kinda glad you did. Whole thing was enough of a public spectacle as it was. Between Ollie's cheerleading squad and all the gym bros hooting and hollering? Shit was chaos- way too much going on."

"Hm. Wouldn't have guessed the girl openly walking around wearing a BDSM collar cared much about being a public spectacle."

"Watch it, ese," Mia turned bright red as she shot the chef a halfway threatening glare. "Only one guy gets to tease me about the collar, and that's the one who bought it."

"Just an observation," Akira laughed politely. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of bounds."

"...Nah. Don't be. Not your fault I'm pissy. Trying my best to reign it in, but you'll probably have to suffer some snippiness if you want my money."

"A sacrifice I'm willing to make," he shrugged. "So what's Oliver up to tonight?"

"Whatever he wants. Cast him off so he didn't have to deal with my bad mood."

"Hm. Fair. I was halfway worried the stakes were raised, and he was off training to defeat your father."

"Our current hurdle isn't quite so over the top as the first one..."

"But there is another hurdle?"

"Isn't there always?" Mia scoffed, amused. "What's it to you, anyway, mn? You a ramen chef or a wannabe bartender?"

"Technically, both, since I've stocked up on sake since the last time your boy was here. I can stick to being a chef if you don't want to deal with the bartender side of me, though. Only thought I'd offer to hear you out if you needed to vent."

Mia thought about it momentarily as she eyed Akira in silent judgment. He seemed like a really good dude, and she felt bad she wasn't in the best state of mind to make a good impression. Opening up seemed like the correct answer. At least she'd hopefully avoid coming off as Oliver's bitchy girlfriend with additional context.

"There was this whole thing with him and my friends today..." Mia sighed, running the eager listener through an abridged version of the day's events without getting too into the personal details. By the time she was done, so was her first dish- a steaming hot bowl of shio ramen.

Her restraint lifted, Mia tore apart her chopsticks and attacked the noodles with such ferocity that it put Zoe's voracious appetite to shame. Seeing another happy customer pleased with his work, Akira smiled humbly and then addressed Mia's conundrum after she'd enjoyed her first few bites.

"Sounds rough, but from what you've told me, I struggle to see the big deal. You're on track toward getting exactly what you wanted, right? Unless there's more to the story?"

"Oh, there's more. Thinking my current mood mostly boils down to some guilt I've bottled up that watching Zoe's relapse went and uncapped..." Mia grumbled between noodle slurps. "Good stuff, by the way."

"Appreciated," he said before going quiet, allowing Mia to continue if she wanted and stay silent if she didn't.

Ultimately, getting some food in her belly did Mia wonders. The delicious combo of salty noodles, bamboo shoots, and sliced chashu lowered her guard until she was comfortable saying a little more.

"It really hurt to see Zoe like that. Could barely keep her head together the whole way through, and she looked like a fucking tweaker by the end of it, just sweating up a storm and twitching her ass off..."

"So where does the guilt come in? Are you saying you feel responsible?"

"Don't feel responsible. I am responsible." Mia lifted her glasses, sighed, and rubbed her eyelids. "Not fully- be silly to take all the credit when the chick's parents are right over yonder- but I figure I share enough blame to justify my feelings."

"Have you spoken to Oliver about this?"

"...No, not exactly," she shied away. "He knows I spoiled Zoe back when she was at her lowest, though. That I helped her get where she is."

"So what is it that you haven't told him?"

"That my motives weren't a hundred percent out of the goodness of my heart," Mia frowned and lowered her chopsticks to briefly rub her right wrist. "Not trying to imply I took advantage of my best friend or anything over here, but she wasn't the only one having a rough time back then..."

Akira closed his eyes after prepping the ingredients for Mia's second dish, a bowl of udon. "I'm starting to believe your issues are heavier than what a ramen chef slash bartender can reasonably be expected to help you sort out."

"Really? Sure you can't Mr. Miyagi this shit out for me, big guy?"

"I'm afraid not. It's strictly stated in the ancient guidelines that my vast reserves of Japanese wisdom may only be dispensed to down-on-their-luck white guys, and the Council would never forgive me for breaking tradition. I could maybe get away with it if you were a down-on-their-luck black guy, but a down-on-their-luck Latina? Wouldn't fly."

"Sí, of course not," Mia coughed up a dark laugh.

"In lieu of sagely guidance, I can cook you an unhealthy amount of delicious food and tell you the obvious. That being how you need to talk with Oliver about this."

Mia shoved her finished bowl toward the counter and hung her head. "Not like I don't already know that..."

"I said it was obvious, didn't I?"

"Mn. Suppose you did. Just scared he'll think less of me."

"While I haven't read the book on the guy, you pick up someone's general vibe through crossing fists. He's a good kid, Mia, and you're the center of his world based on how he talks about you. I get the feeling it'd take something worse than a down-on-their-luck Latina is capable of to make him think even an iota less of you."

Mia's heart weighed several metric tons.

She bit her lip, head swimming with stupid thoughts of that gloomy boy of hers. His awkward smile. His overwhelmed expression. His somber hazel eyes that brimmed with love whenever they looked her way.

Akira might not have been Mr. Miyagi, but he didn't have to be. Sometimes, all you really needed was to hear something you already knew coming from someone else's mouth. It helped solidify it. Made it more real.

Mia knew deep down that Oliver wouldn't care. He'd sympathize. Give her a hug. Tell her it's nothing the three of them can't work through- and since it wasn't like she'd kicked a puppy or anything, he'd be right.

Her only remaining fear was what Zoe might think, but even that wasn't so scary knowing he'd have her back.

"Got my thanks, sensei," Mia said, finding her smile. "I'll talk to him about all this tomorrow night when I'm done seeing my family."

"No problem," Akira slid her a fresh bowl of udon. "Just don't go telling the Council on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it so long as you help me get a nice stack of these bowls going. I damn well meant it when I said one of everything, so let's pick up the pace, mn? Gonna show my down-on-his-luck-white boy his kitten's doing just fine for herself so he doesn't worry his pretty little head off over little old me."

Akira said absolutely nothing, going as silent as the grave.

"Fuck off," Mia huffed, blushed, ignored the increased weight of her choker, and prepared to inhale her udon. "I know it's cringe- but it's our cringe."

"More power to you, koneko-chan. More power to you."