HOTD: A New Dawn

Mai clearly hesitated. Tysone merely raised one eyebrow, curious. He'd have made a joke about a cat eating her tongue, but she was more of a bunny, so he'd save it for now. 

"It's the lyrics…" She said, finally, pulling the words out with difficulty. "I thought you'd write some unsavory, expletive-filled song that'd have made me lose face, but I didn't expect to find this so… beautiful. In fact…" Mai took a deep breath. "In fact, I'd like to purchase this from you, if you don't mind."

"Purchase?"

He had to repeat it to make sure he wasn't tripping. It must have been the shock, for Mai waited patiently for the words to finally register within his thick head.

She nodded firmly. "Yes, purchase. I love this song. Even without a proper melody... and with only the most rudimentary instrumentals... I could just feel myself drawn to its melancholy tone and the pain laced within. Maybe one day I'll get to sing it in front of an audience and be able to live it out myself..." Mai had an odd sense of passion Tysone didn't think her character should possess. Wasn't she a stuck up cold maiden at this point? Had he missed something somewhere? Was she an impostor?

Stupid anime world with its stupid anime characters.

But it worked perfectly.

"You want to be a singer?"

So Tysone touched upon that hidden desire with utmost gentleness. If it was there, he'd bring it out. It'd be a win-win situation, wouldn't it?

"Maybe it's just a passing fancy." Mai twiddled her fingers, red dusting her pale skin, which looked soft. "I don't think I've ever longed for it so much until I read your lyrics. Haah... I can't believe you did this to me. You stupid blockhead. You... oh wait!" Mai gripped herself. "Right, right! About the purchase, if you're interested, it's quite a reasonable offer. At a maximum, three times as much as the producers offered you."

"Is it right? To call the one you want to buy from a stupid yankee?" Tysone wore a little teasing smile.

And it was just enough to push her over the edge.

"Ugh!"

Red colored her cheeks.

"I won't call you stupid or blockhead." She amended, and Tysone was surprised she gave in so easily. She looked left and right, fidgeting, and looking absolutely adorable. He wished he could record a photo right there and then.

He kind of hated that he found girls adorable instead of hot or sexy, but give it a few years, and she'll mature into the embodiment of those adjectives.

Still, Tysone sighed theatrically. "It's too late, Mai. This heart of mine is a prideful creature. Maybe it'll show mercy if you call me unbearably hot piece of melted chocolate or the best god you've ever seen—"

A harsh stare interrupted him.

"...Fine." Tysone acted like her glare hurt him deeply. "We can work out the finer details later. I can sell it to you if you want it that much. I can even help you come up with a perfect tune for it, after all, as the creator, I know best, right?"

She composed herself, sitting in a prim and proper way. "That's absolutely fine. 20k USD, or roughly 3 million Japanese yen for the full copyright of this lyrics. Do we have a deal?" 

Damn. That just made some of his plans financially possible to carry out. 

Tysone had to fight the smile that threatened to split his face. 

"That's an acceptable offer, Bunny Girl."

She narrowed her eyes.

…

The transaction didn't happen right away. It turns out that Mai, still being contracted to a talent agency, couldn't act too independently. Still, just a few days later, Mai unexpectedly showed up at his place with a work-for-hire agreement in her hand.

On the page, it was spelled out that Tysone sold his full ownership of the lyrics, while he, in return, would be paid 20k USD. Of course, the money would take time to wire into his account, since, well, he didn't have one in the first place.

Tyson had nearly flipped the damn table. But no, he had some self-control. So it all worked out.

Thankfully, he was friends with Saya, who played a little hard to get, but with a bit of coaxing on his part, she finally relented and agreed to use her 'connections' to speed up the whole thing.

It was only on the third day that Mai's money was successfully transferred into his bank account. Tysone had never seen so much money in his life. And it belonged to him!

'Calm down. Calm down. This is nothing.'

His ambitions went far beyond a mere 20k. He wanted to make that much a day, at least. A Rage Room would be a good start—the first of many. He was confident it'd work; this anime version of Japan wasn't any different from the real one. Stress was an affectionate lady that hung from every salaryman's elbow, urging them to indulge in alcohol until they passed out.

A Rage Room is like an anger-management class, where for a fee, you can have your own private room filled with various items. Straw mannequins, a couch, chairs, plastic models, or whatever they had on hand, then you go in and punch the shit out of it.

Someone might make fun of the idea, not knowing how much the fragile psyche of an exhausted person would appreciate the concept. 

Now, he was illustrating his glorious plan to a very surprised Saya. He had been doing his own research in the meantime. Best place to rent a place. Soundproofing. Smashable furnitures. Business Name Registration. Licenses and permits. Tax registration and compliance—and a whole other bunch of terms he had never heard of before. 

He might as well invite people over to smash furniture in his own place. 

"So, you're telling me that you already got your part of the starting capital ready?" Naturally, Saya was skeptical. Heh, Tysone low-key enjoyed the look of sheer befuddlement on that cute little face. "I don't believe it."

"Damn." He intoned, a bit melodramatically. "You think I'm not capable of securing my part? You doubting my skills or are you trying to play me like a damn fiddle? Is that it? Wow, after all I've done to get you comfortable and invested in my little project."

Saya kicked his shin under the table, successfully cutting off his tirade. "That's not what I meant, you stupid gorilla. It's been one month, barely at that. And you're telling me that your distraught and lost thick head actually came up with a way to make as much as 3 million yen? Who would believe it?"

Tysone blinked. "A genius like yourself?"

She tried to kick him again, only to have her tiny, socked foot firmly grasped in his much larger hand. "You…"

"Does it really matter where I got the money? Do you even care?" He said, wiping the smile off his face. "Don't worry. It was nothing illegal—it turns out I have a genius side to myself as well, and I managed to sell it for the right price to someone who valued it."

He didn't tighten his grip or raise his voice, but Saya still found herself shrinking slightly, like a scolded child. Of course, she played it off like nothing. So typical of her.

"Maybe, if you apologize, I can tell you how exactly I managed to make so much money in a short time. And then, maybe, you'll be able to trust me more as a business partner?"

"..."

She mumbled something, looking away with an indignant blush.

"What did you say? I didn't hear you?" Tysone leaned in, perking his ears. He held back a teasing smile. 

"I said…" She trembled, as if about to erupt. And erupt, she did. "Release my foot, you damn yankee!"

He released it. However, he did it just as she jerked it, causing her kneecap to slam into the table, causing the entire damn thing to shake from the impact. 

"Oof!"

It was kind of fun the way her entire expression went from righteously irate to surprised to agonizing pain in a matter of seconds. Tysone tried to keep a straight face, but a chuckle slipped through his lips.

"You—! You're insufferable!" Saya clutched her knee, wincing, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to smash the table like a rock star." Tysone said, grinning. "We're saving the smashing for the customers, remember?" Ah, good ol' double entendre. Thankfully, Saya didn't seem to register it. 

She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that he was sure wasn't very flattering. But even as she rubbed her sore knee, there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. It was the same look she had when she first heard his wild idea about the rage room. 

"So, are you going to help me with this or not?" Tysone asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "I could use someone who's good with numbers, and, well, someone who's good at keeping me from screwing up. There are a lot of things I'm not familiar with, and I'm not ashamed to admit you'd do one hell of a job with that brain of yours."

Saya looked at him, her expression softening just a little. "Well…" She shrugged, sighing. "I promised, didn't I? You're too stupid to do anything on your own. I'll help you with this crazy idea of yours, but you have to tell me how and where you got that money from."

Tysone smirked, leaning further back, a faraway look in his eyes. "You see… it all began when I was a little brat just like you—"

"..."

Saya promised herself she'd never ask again. Never. If this idiot was going to play his life story like a damn folk tale, she'd rather remain ignorant. He might just tell her that he found a magical guitar in a convenience store and sold his soul to a karaoke demon.

"Alright, alright, keep your secrets." She waved him off, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was fighting off a headache. "Just… stop with the dramatics. You're giving me a migraine."

Tysone chuckled, satisfied. "Deal, partner. But hey, you're gonna regret not hearing about my noble journey from broke bum to slightly-less-broke bum."

"Can't wait…" She deadpanned, but her lips twitched up, just barely.

"Hey, that's the spirit!" He threw his hands up in triumph, nearly knocking over a stack of papers on the table. Saya's eye twitched as she reached out to steady the mess.

"I swear, if you're this chaotic when we're running the business, I'm going to start charging you for every minute you waste my time."

Tysone gasped. "How could you, Saya-chan? I thought we were in this together! For better or worse, richer or poorer—"

"That's marriage, you idiot."

"Well, business is kinda like marriage." He reasoned, and she had to admit that he had a point there. He grinned, suddenly, like he was about to say something truly profound. "Except you don't get a honeymoon, just a pile of debt and the chance to destroy things when it all goes to hell."

Saya raised an eyebrow. "You're really selling this partnership, you know that?"

"You're just too young to appreciate my wisdom." He smiled, his head slightly tilted. 

Saya's traitorous heart skipped a beat.

Author Note: More chapters on [email protected]/LordCampione.