Work Text:
Zhao, having somewhat turned his life around and no longer meddling in national politics, was getting antsy. He'd always scoffed at the notion that he would ever have a midlife crisis, and by that, he'd mostly just blocked out the idea that he would make it past 30. But now he was a regular 40 Under 40: wealthy, good-looking, worldly, smart, accomplished, a mostly-peaceful and semi-functional member of polite society. Seeing his life from that angle, he was surpassing everyone's expectations except his father's.
Which brought him back to his crisis. He was boring now and he was enjoying the hell out of it. He wasn’t smuggling illegal tiger cubs into the country; he wasn’t dropping hundreds of thousands of yen on luxury escorts. He was sleeping in a modest apartment above his own restaurant- really his own, not the Liumang’s- and having regular meetings with contractors- legitimate businesspeople, not fronts for a criminal syndicate- in order to get his kitchen up to code.
Zhao was seated in one of the booths scratching down ideas and prices for updated floor tiles when the epicentre of his new lifestyle walked through the front doors of You Tian- Kasuga Ichiban.
“Kasuga-kun, I already told you-” Zhao began in his usual disarming, lilting tone, and Ichiban immediately held his hands up to his chest in surrender.
“It’s not about the wallpaper again!” He said quickly.
“Good, because blue really isn’t my colour.” Zhao pushed the papers and floor plans to the side and rested his chin on the heel of his palm. Ichiban slid into the booth across from him and stretched his arms along the back.
“Workin’ hard?” He asked, and Zhao scoffed.
“Never again in my life.”
“What’s it they say about working and things you love?” Ichiban scratched at the back of his head, making his bushy hair shake like a living creature.
“Don’t.” Zhao pulled over a catalogue from the pile, turning it beneath his fingertips so that Ichiban could see it right side up. “Check this shit out, Kasuga-kun. No cheap vinyl here.”
“It’s pretty surreal, right?” Ichiban picked up the catalogue and brought it close to his face, squinting at the fine details. “Having your own business, I mean. I never thought about all the different stuff you’re suddenly in charge of.”
Zhao nibbled on the slightly chipped end of one nail- he’d have to fix that later. “It’s child’s play, really.” He shrugged as he watched Ichiban drop the current catalogue and pull out a booklet of tile samples from the bottom of the pile. He’d fix that later, too.
“Well, still.” Ichiban said, tapping the edges of a dozen tile squares on the table’s surface. “I can tell you’re putting a lotta love into this place.”
Zhao bit down harder, tearing off a hangnail. “I’m aiming bigger, Kasuga-kun. Expand the brand, hire some middle-management, I really need to make a website-”
“Hey, Zhao?” Ichiban leaned in slightly, laying the tiles down like a royal flush. “It’s okay to be proud of the first step. I think you have the best damn restaurant in Ijincho.”
“You’ve been blessed with critically low standards.” Zhao smiled despite himself, reaching out and patting Ichiban’s cheek. Ichiban caught the wrist of his leather jacket and put both of their hands firmly down on the mess of building plans.
“And you’re thinking too much.” He caught Zhao’s gaze through his shades, something he had an uncanny knack for. “I was gonna ask if you were free for a movie, but if you’re too busy creating a culinary empire...”
“I never said that.”