He's not quite sure how he got dragged into all this. Ending up standing by the Mustang, dismissed from getting any information, with a passionfruit shave ice in one hand, wearing a powder blue shirt that's about six sizes too big for him, over the button-down and tie he'd chosen this morning, with the words "Waiola Shave Ice" stamped over Kamekona's broad, beaming face.
Somehow it's Steve's fault. Right? He can make this Steve's fault.
Or maybe it's some joke between Chin and Kamekona. Humiliate the haoles, see how far they'd go to get information, and normally, okay, normally, he'd tell the big guy in the stand exactly where he can shove both this shirt and this cone, okay? It's bad enough being told to turn away, get out of earshot, but that's why they brought Chin.
But there's nothing for it. He'd held up the shirt with a skeptical expression, but a glance from Chin had him pulling it over his head, another layer in this sweltering heat, silent and resigned, while being handed a shave ice he doesn't even particularly like, okay, it's no water ice and this isn't Ocean City, but, fine. CI's need to be treated delicately, so he'll eat crow and passionfruit shave ice, and lean against the Mustang like this isn't basically the lowest point in an already crap day.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-01-26 05:16 pm (UTC)He's not quite sure how he got dragged into all this. Ending up standing by the Mustang, dismissed from getting any information, with a passionfruit shave ice in one hand, wearing a powder blue shirt that's about six sizes too big for him, over the button-down and tie he'd chosen this morning, with the words "Waiola Shave Ice" stamped over Kamekona's broad, beaming face.
Somehow it's Steve's fault. Right? He can make this Steve's fault.
Or maybe it's some joke between Chin and Kamekona. Humiliate the haoles, see how far they'd go to get information, and normally, okay, normally, he'd tell the big guy in the stand exactly where he can shove both this shirt and this cone, okay? It's bad enough being told to turn away, get out of earshot, but that's why they brought Chin.
But there's nothing for it. He'd held up the shirt with a skeptical expression, but a glance from Chin had him pulling it over his head, another layer in this sweltering heat, silent and resigned, while being handed a shave ice he doesn't even particularly like, okay, it's no water ice and this isn't Ocean City, but, fine. CI's need to be treated delicately, so he'll eat crow and passionfruit shave ice, and lean against the Mustang like this isn't basically the lowest point in an already crap day.