Spare Change [Haruka/Sai]

[¡El Bandito!]

Living alone was hard.

Being a stubborn, prideful bitch wasn't all that helpful either. To Haruka, asking for help was saying you couldn't handle it alone, that you were weak, that you needed someone.

And Ochi Haruka didn't need anyone.

What she did, need, on the other hand, was money. Of course, she had just turned 18, and most high schoolers in need of some extra cash would just go to their parents. But seriously, she would rather die than give them the satisfaction. She had gone through it before - she would just have to not eat for a few days, mooch some food off of some people at school and forgo any BYOB parties and cigarettes until her next paycheck... in two weeks. Almost the entirety of the one she had just gotten seemed to get eaten up by bills - electric bill, phone bill, billing bill... ain't nothin' in this world for free, or so the saying went.

Fortunately, what she did have was an old, beat up couch in the middle of her studio apartment, full of change and god-knows-how-old pieces of candy and probably some other things she really shouldn't think too hard about, which was good because her entire apartment was starting to smell like dirty socks. Sure, forgoing the laundry ritual saved her some pocket change, but it could only be bearable for so long.

Overflowing laundry basket pressed against her chest, she made her way out her door and down the stairs to the shared laundry room in the basement area of the apartment complex. She knew a lot of people who just did laundry at their parents' house - most of her neighbors were college students or parachute kids like her - but she didn't really have that luxury. Well... she supposed it was theoretically possible, but she really didn't feel like taking bags and bags of dirty laundry on a day-long train ride. So, she was stuck couch-mining every time she needed clean clothes - which, with the exception of underwear, she had narrowed down to once every few weeks or so, possibly to the chagrin of those who sat next to her in class. Fortunately, the overwhelming stench of coffee permeated everything and hid the even less pleasant odors, for the most part.

Heaving the basket of clothing onto one of the washing machines, she pulled the lid of the adjacent contraption and began stuffing her clothes inside, pausing with every item and contemplating whether that particular thing really needed the wash this cycle. It was only after she had picked all her necessary things and had begun feeding coins into the machine that she realized that she had miscalculated the change she had dug out of the dingy blue sofa and was 50 cents short.

"Fuck," she groaned loudly, letting her head fall to the top of the machine with a little more force than gravity alone could have mustered. What was she going to do now?

[Elena]

Being seventeen still, his legal guardian had some obligations to him. Sai was obedient enough that Danzo was rather satisfied with him, and did not seem to bothered by the rather generous allowance that covered rent and car insurance. That meant all the money he earned went to smaller fees like food, internet, laundry, grooming and leisure. Between a regular part-time shift at the grocery store and his other occasional, more dishonourable work, Sai lived with extra money in his pocket. If he ever needed more, just one mention to the scarred man as he drove him around and he'd get it.

Did he work hard for his money? Yes. Being chaperone and personal butler among working shifts, all the while being an achieving student in competitive classes was nothing easy. For the extra cash and more uncouth services, he risked expulsion from his school and a loss to the carefully earned privileges Danzo gave him. Was it worth it? Yes. The loss of time and energy equalled to very favourable outcomes. He had learned to work hard and efficiently. He had only once ever complained, and that was when Iwakura-sensei, ah, Deidara-san, threw at him extra work. Sai had ascertained this would not happen again.

It was why he looked ever so blank and awake as he carried his laundry to the room. As usual for around the current time, there was nobody except his new laundry-companion. They seemed to share similar schedules for laundry, and he had long since stopped musing that the disfigured female was stalking him just for a chance to meet up with him like this.

He witnessed from behind her, just by chance, as she swore and then did a rather useless thing. Something was bothering his buddy. “Good day.” He greeted, putting his laundry load on the machine right beside hers. A quick glance-over was all he needed. Her problem was easily fixed.

“Here, I'll spare you the trouble of having to run up and get some more change.” He reached into the coin purse he carried, nestled in his pocket, and handed her the missing amount. Even he would sometimes underestimate the amount he actually needed, such as in circumstances where he'd need an extra machine. “Though, you seem excessively emotional for something like that. You shouldn't risk any more damage to your face.” Sai proceeded to fill up his machine, taking his time and far less agitated than she was. “Is everything alright?” It seemed proper to ask.

[¡El Bandito!]

She rolled her forehead slightly on the ridge of the machine just in time to watch the year-younger male - whose name was Sai, she had learned on one of her previous laundry adventures - pop the necessary change into her machine and start it for her.

"Oh, dude, you really didn't have to do that," she mumbled, closing her eyes and ignoring the comment about damaging her face that stemmed from a sarcastic comment she had made god knows how long ago that the boy hadn't seemed to catch. Sure, she had heard that some people just didn't understand sarcasm, and she even knew a few of them, but this guy just took the cake. A dry (and rather hilarious, or so she thought at the time) retort to a curious inquiry about her facial piercings had turned into the shaggy, ebony-haired teen pitying the salmon-orange haired girl for a 'freak science lab experiment' that Haruka was pretty damn sure wasn't even actually possible. Not that it mattered, really.


The vibrations of the clunk old machine weren't doing anything for the ache that was threatening the back of her head, so she painstakingly picked her head up off the washer and nodded. "Yeah, god forbid anything else happen to my face." Maybe, just maybe, one day she would actually tell the poor kid the truth. But that day was definitely far, far off in the distant future. Maybe if he was lucky it would come before the whole world blew up in 2012 or whatever. Silly Mayans and their silly calendars and doomsday plots.

What was bothering her? She sighed again, resisting the urge to put an overemotional fist in his face. Who would be risking more damage to their face then, huh? But no, she didn't need any blood on this shirt, it was her last clean (by a large stretch of the definition, anyway) shirt, and she needed it to stay that way until she was done with the day's chores.

"Everything's... the usual, I suppose," she pondered aloud for his benefit, resting the now-empty laundry basket on her hip as she brought the index finger of her other hand to her lip-ring. "I'm just a little short on cash at the moment and things have been kind of tight. I had to go couch-mining for that much change and I didn't even have enough. Minimum wage sucks."

She smiled slightly, a sort of faint 'but fuck it, I'll live' smirk, and shook her head slightly. "I guess this is what I get for moving out so early and all, you know? I should probably get a second job but I won't have any life at all if I try to juggle that and school and job number one. Not to mention it's not all that easy when you look like this." She gestured to her face offhandedly as she spoke.

[Elena]

As he listened to her, he merely commented a mistakenly heartless “I manage.” when she spoke of juggling her school life along with jobs. Though, even Sai found himself wishing he had more time to spend with Naruto or Sakura, but that was just wishful thinking; he would have to wait it out until a little later. He'd just have to work harder, that was all. When she pointed out her face, he nodded, understanding. But his glance didn't stay at her face; he looked down at the rest of her shamelessly. Her eccentric looks would make the usual work a bit difficult to find, but there was nothing wrong with the rest of her. He went off the checklist of attractive features he knew of, and found she fit and so he could call her figure just that.

“You have the advantage of being female. Teenage girls are very in demand; though at eighteen some will find you a little old, but if that were a problem telling them you're one or two years younger won't be a stretch.” He spoke casually, closing his the lid of his machine and then turning around to lean against it, arms crossed and his eyes quite seriously on hers.

“If money is such an issue, perhaps you need to find someone older and strike a deal. The 'suits' as most girls these days call them, will pay handsomely. It's not stressful work, if, what's the word...” He paused. That thing others had and told him he lacked.

“Ah, yes, dignity, is not too big an issue. At eighteen though, you must be at least experienced in some regard?” The question hung in the air. “Then, it shouldn't be too much a problem—even with your face. Though it throws off the symmetry of it, beneath those few pins it is fine.” While he was vaguely trying to be comforting (though that stoic tone of his didn't help), he was also being truthful.

[¡El Bandito!]

"Experienced in what, exactly?" she asked slowly, raising an eyebrow and giving this fool the benefit of the doubt. She was pretty damn sure she knew what he was implying, but her inferences could always be clouded by her overly-cynical nature and there was always the possibility he was suggesting something far more innocent than what had suddenly sprang to the young woman's mind.

Because, if she understood Sai correctly, he was telling her she should whore herself out for some quick cash.

And the worst part? She was actually considering it. What the fuck was wrong with her? It never even occurred to her that this might have been an elaborate joke.

But, a voice in her head argued, it would be so easy. The growl from her empty stomach seconded the motion. There was something to be said about effective money management: namely, Haruka really needed to work on it. Maybe she should have waited for that copy of Super Mario Galaxy; after all, it's not like that was a game that was going to go out of circulation any time soon.

And really, it was just sex. It wasn't like anyone but her, Sai, and whatever dude ever needed to know about this. She could just do it once, get a little bit of money to tide her over until she got tips at the end of the week, and everything would be alright, right?

"Do people even really do that anymore?" she murmured doubtfully, casting a glance over Sai's shoulder at the entrance to the room. No one else needed to hear this conversation. It wasn't a matter of legality - when was it ever with her, of all people? She could give a fuck less about laws and whether she followed them or not. It wasn't even about the sex, really; she could just blow some guy in some back alley somewhere and get the fuck out, no problem. No, the issue here was pride. This whole thing just seemed ridiculous, and she had no idea where to even start. It wasn't really a conversation you had very often. 'Oh, hey, are you out walking the streets, engaging in prostitution, by any chance? How does one get involved in such a profession?' It just didn't happen.

[Elena]

Sai was going to answer, but her look was inferring that she did know very well what he meant. He second question confirmed it. “Many still do; it's more popular with the younger generations.” He explained. “If you think of it like capitalism, it is like supply and demand. There is a culture of ephebophilia among older men, and there is a culture of young girls who need a lot of money. Mix these two together, and it is no wonder law enforcement is being prompted to deal with the issue.”

He clearly didn't share Haruka's opinion on pride. There was nothing particularly special or uncommon about it. This was the oldest profession in the world, after all, it just wasn't one Sai thought he'd be doing for the longterm. His skills could be put to better use if he was going to go through highschool. It wasn't like he enjoyed it to much as work, it seemed more something for leisure.

“If time and money are an issue, it is a rather good option. I could always help you through it; I've done it myself from time to time.” It was just a suggestion; one he thought would fit her situation. If getting another job, or a better paying job, was difficult due to her face and eccentric looks, getting herself a boyfriend of sorts with some money could even build up her confidence as an attractive girl. All that mattered was that it would be the right kind of man, and not someone who would damage her.

“Actually,” he started, “If you do consider it, I would help you. You could be too delicate for this kind of work and I'd feel responsible if it broke you.” Sai's morals were relative, but not nonexistent. It would be a bit problematic if she hated what she did and yelled at him every time she saw him alone in the laundry, which was too frequently to not be an issue. What would Naruto say in a situation like this, too? Then he wouldn't be considered fit to protect Sakura, either. Also, if he wanted to remain a good neighbour to her, Sai would have to at least offer to look out for her.

[¡El Bandito!]

Capitalism.

Well, technically, Sai had a point. Selling was legal, sex was legal, so why wasn't selling sex legal? From a purely hypothetical standpoint it seemed fine enough to her. Haruka figured that if it was someone's choice, they should be able to do it.

The problem about this whole thing, however, was not the legality. It was the premise, that she should be so desperate that she would need to put herself up on the market, like some twisted pawn shop. It wasn't even selling, really; it was more like lending; a rental of her body for however long it took some schmuck who couldn't get any for free to take care of his business.

"I wonder how Adam Smith would feel about this?" Haruka murmured to herself, wondering if the Grandfather of Capitalism had put a special section in Wealth of Nations specifically for this problem. Though, she supposed, if there was both supply and demand...

Sai was kind of amazing because of how socially awkward he as; as such Haruka only half-paid attention to what he said most of the time, lazily synthesizing and contemplating key words and phrases he offered like she was listening to a lecture more than talking to a fellow teenager. A seemingly offhand phrase, however, broke her out of this routine momentarily and she took a double-take at him. He'd 'done it himself from time to time?' Haruka wasn't sure if she should laugh or stare in horror. Perhaps, if she had been a better person, she would have been more concerned, and a small voice in her head was zealously reprimanding her for being so callous as to find the notion of the boy walking the streets soliciting sex absolutely hilarious, but the mental image of Sai leaning over to talk into the window of some old beater car with a coy smile on his face was forever emblazoned in her brain.

"You never really struck me as the type," she admitted with a slight giggle despite herself, though whether it was from the absurd subject material itself or the fact that she was getting increasingly nervous at how serious he was and how seriously she was actually taking this (as seriously as she ever took anything, anyway). And... what exactly was he offering, here?

"Wait... like... how would that work? Do we offer a two for one deal or something? I don't think most guys would want another dude in their threesome, but then again the kind of dude that hires male whores, well... I guess you never know. Do you know, like, a good corner or something? But I would think the kind of client base looking for me would be different than yours..."

Dear lord. Why were they having this conversation?

At Sai's last words, Haruka's giggling quieted and she raised a questioning eyebrow. "Delicate? What makes you think I'm delicate?" No, seriously, where had he gotten that from? She was curious, now. The idea of whoring wasn't exactly for the faint of heart, but, come on... really?

[Elena]

Much like a professor giving a lecture, sometimes he spoke without really gauging the reaction of the listener. With his eyes looking somewhere past her, he spoke in a tone lacking the enthusiasm a speaker would have in an interesting conversation, and more of rehearsed tones and frequent pauses, as he would stop and think of other things to say. To be fair, comparing this line of work to capitalism did seem like something for a more classroom like setting instead of the laundry room. Whatever class that may be (and so typical it would be Sai giving the lectures). For someone who didn't quite pay attention and always muddled common social cues up, he was quite unforgiving when someone misunderstood him.

“I didn't say I think you're delicate, I said you could be. It would be an unpredictable scenario and I cannot properly assess your reactions. You could be just parading as a tough sort of girl, but then what happens when the facade breaks and you're stuck in a bad situation? You'd hate me for it, and that would be unpleasant.” It always came back to him, didn't it?

“Therefore, to avoid this possibility I would follow you to the street you'd be soliciting. There are certain places where people go to, rather unofficial spots. It is best during the night-time, around bars. The closer it is in proximity to the red light district, the better.” He didn't go into detail why, as he already felt like he was perhaps talking too much and often had to remind himself that simplicity was best. It would be easy to reason why being at a street that was close to the red-light district would be beneficial; at least, he thought so.

He continued after a slight pause. “From my vantage point I can try to determine if the man can be considered trust-worthy, and should someone more forceful come along like say, a drunk, step in for you. I could also follow you two to whatever hotel or motel he takes you to, and stay outside the door for just in case.” That seemed a secure way of doing it. If the guy turned out to be alright, then there would be no cause for concern.

“Though, your idea is quite convenient, too. If it is possible that would be a good option.” He smiled. The likelihood would be quite low, but he had his share of odd-breaking experiences. “Whatever you would like, we'll try to make possible. If, of course, you are willing to give it a try.”

[¡El Bandito!]

This is just as illegal as stealing,[/color] a part of her argued, so you may as well just be doing that outright.[/color]

But, another part of her pointed out that at least this way she was earning the cash, in a sense, doing something for it, rather than just taking it honorlessly. If being a hooker could really be called honorable to begin with. Still.

The fact that Sai was offering to be her pimp was both reassuring and not at the same time. On the one hand, it would be nice to actually have someone else around when all of this was happening, but on the other hand how much help would Sai of all people really be if shit actually went down?

She had her doubts, and-- dear lord, she was actually going to do this, wasn't she.

"Um... Okay, I guess..." she muttered reluctantly. She was. She really was. Without all the posturing and the initial flat refusal followed by a reluctant agreement later on when things got even worse. No, this wasn't some contrived movie or book, this was real life, and Haruka knew when to cash in and quit while she was ahead, so to speak.

"Should I just... go like this? I don't know... I don't really have anything worse than what I go to school in," she admitted. Granted, the way she wore her schoolgirl outfit was anything but modest, but she did that as a statement more than anything else. She didn't dress like a slut for her daily activities, just to piss off the administrators at that prison they called a high school.

"...I don't have to do anything I don't want to, right?" She added quietly, watching the washer shake as it spun her clothes through the cleaning cycle, before glancing back up at him. It was kind of unnerving how cold and professional he was about this, though she supposed this was the way one had to take it if they weren't going to fall apart on the job, like he had mentioned.

[Elena]

Even if there was another way to handle all this, Sai probably wouldn't be able to. Some girls had genuinely enjoyed this kind of work; revelling in their riches and material wealth for work that came more as play. It wasn't right, many would argue, and Haruka definitely was more morally upstanding than he was, but to him it really was just another form of business—a really convenient one at that. There were its problems, which he fully acknowledged, and was the basis why he'd want to supervise for her.

But, she was willing to go ahead.

Assessing her for a moment, he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “I don't think it matters too much in this case.” They'd only be coming off, anyways. “Just make sure you're well showered and clean...” He took her hand without much warning, inspecting her nails. It was his criteria at least, and he could be surprisingly picky about it. “I notice that sometimes you have really bright nails, and interesting combinations. I find that nice, so a fresh coat maybe?”

He glanced over to the time remaining on his machine, and then looked over to her. “At 20:00, come down here again. I think that should be enough time—make it 20:30. I'll pick you up from here and we'll go.” He waited to see if that was alright with her. It would give both of them enough time to get ready and finish up their laundry. It would also give her time to think it over once more; to back out if need be.