#headcanon about sorahiko: he is the best right-hand man you could ever ask for

[shih-coulda-had-it]

do you have any sorahiko headcannons you'd like to share? :)

Not particularly, but I do have a snippet of an 'Exes of Gran Torino Club' fic I'm having fun with:

wc: ~800 | Toshinori's POV (trying out an narration where he isn't calling Nana by 'oshishou' internally) | Lots of flirtatious implications. Working structure of this fic is 'Toshinori's No-Good Horrible Bad Evening Improves When He Remembers He Can Stir Shit Up.'

//

Times like these, Toshinori is grateful that his growth spurts haven’t sent him past Gran Torino’s shoulders yet. He can still hide behind his and Nana’s capes when the time calls for it. Like now.

Gran Torino shifts just enough that he is leaning an elbow against the grimy wooden bar, and his cape covers any gap that might reveal Toshinori. He cocks his head and greets the stranger with a warm, “Hey. Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“And whose fault is that?” the stranger returns. Toshinori frowns to himself—he thinks he heard something in the stranger’s voice, but surely…?

“Monk Kong’s,” says Torino blithely.

“Ah, you’re right. One of the most inconvenient men I’ve had to suffer in my life. He lectured me the whole time about a virtuous lifestyle before the cops pulled up.” Toshinori registers the slide of heavy-soled boots on a sticky floor, and he bristles at hearing the stranger sidle closer. “Think he knows one of his own lives a life of sin?”

“What happens when the cape’s off is my own business.”

“Yet here you stand, all buttoned up.”

He can’t witness in silence anymore, but he’s also pretty sure he doesn’t want to see who Gran Torino might be, god, fraternizing with off the record. Nana wouldn’t stand for this anyways. He’s her successor in all the important ways, which means he’s responsible for Gran Torino not hooking up with someone while on patrol. Toshinori tugs a handful of yellow fabric, only to get blindly slapped back by a thickly-gloved hand.

“Who’s he?” he hisses anyway.

“Shut up,” Torino hisses back.

“A little tag-along?”

Gran Torino sighs, but pointedly doesn’t move aside to reveal Toshinori. “Intern. Don’t mind him. Some stuff you gotta learn on the job, and speaking of, I’m here to talk about the recent break-out. Any clues as to where they are?”

“Torino-kun,” says the stranger fondly, “you know better than anyone that information like that doesn’t come for free. Can’t you sweeten the pot? For old time’s sakes?”

This is unreal. What’s happening? Toshinori mouths the last fragmented leading hint to himself and blanches, and he musters the strength to peek around Gran Torino. The stranger is maybe as tall as Gran Torino, but with light hair pulled back into a ponytail, an unshaven square jaw with a dark tattoo blooming across his cheekbone, and most notably, the missing joint of a pinky finger curled around the glass, the leftover stub bandaged over.

The stranger tips his head in acknowledgment of Toshinori’s staring, and Gran Torino actually shifts position to cut off the line-of-sight.

“You’re dealing with me,” Torino answers. “Considering who else could be shaking you down for details, the pot’s sweetened already.” He leans forward a little and tips his own head. While he softens his voice, Toshinori can still discern what he says: “I’m on a new patrol schedule. You’re lucky I can fit a meeting with you in before I really gotta work, Arashi.”

Like hell!! Toshinori quivers angrily as Arashi laughs, low, and for no apparent justification at all (what is Toshinori learning from this experience?! That Gran Torino flirts with his informants?! That informants are acquired by dating history?!) tells Gran Torino that he only knows ‘Tomoe’ is setting up shop in the business district.

“She’s gotta diversify her portfolio,” says Torino disapprovingly. “I told her that she’s too reliant on routine to carry her through the first week, and she still goes and rounds up her old bookies like the previous arrest meant nothing.”

“Hey,” says Arashi, “maybe this time she won’t use her Quirk, and you’ll just let the cops nab her.”

“Tomoe’s too set in her ways for that. Geez… Thanks, Arashi. Be seeing you.”

“Going to leave me so soon?”

Amusement bleeds into Torino’s tone. “Maybe if you told me about the rest of the escapees, I’d get the job done fast enough to return. But you aren’t, so I’m off.” A break in conversation, an audible clink of ice in glass, and clearly, by the toss of Torino’s head, he is drinking on the job--! 

It could be worse. It could be worse. All he has to tell himself is that it could be so much worse, and Toshinori will survive tonight to tattle so, so much on Gran Torino.

The glass is set down on the bar. Gran Torino says, “Low-proof. Good. Glad to know someone takes my advice.” He turns around before he bothers to hear Arashi’s response and scowls at Toshinori, ushering him to move. “Let’s go. Roofs, now.”

 “Oh, you’re done?” Toshinori says, scathing.

“Roofs,” says Torino, unbothered but more firmly. “Now.”Toshinori goes, if only because he doesn’t think Arashi should have additional insight into Torino’s life. No, that man can definitely stay here, in this dingy divebar, swilling his low-proof alcohol and looking--shady! God, he doesn’t think Gran Torino has anyone virtue for Toshinori and Nana to protect, but he refuses to let that interaction charge any further.