Chapter Text
A kind stranger had offered him a doll, that's really all it was. Kiyotaka had been browsing a store near his apartment, and his gaze fell on these cute anime dolls. He already had two or three, but what's one more?
He picked up a mystery box, hoping he wouldn't turn up with a duplicate, and was headed to checkout when a tall man with a leather jacket offered him a few more. He said that he'd give him the ones he didn't already have, that he was a fan of them as well.
It couldn't hurt.
Kiyotaka steps back into his apartment with the giddy smile of a child who's picked up the sound of an ice cream truck. Truthfully, he considers his love for collectables somewhat childish, almost shameful. They take up unnecessary space in his house, which has led him to setting up a display shelf just to keep them out of the way.
His father had never been kind to him.
Kiyotaka grew up with no mother and a father who would beat him. He lived in denial of this for a long time, told himself that he was only being punished for bad behavior, for subpar marks in school and for missing out on awards that were within his grasp. At some point, he learned to stop sugarcoating it. He accepted his childhood for what it was: awful.
As it turns out, when people grow up without a chance to express themselves, to let out their energy and be a kid, they begin to do so in their adult lives. That's always been, at least Kiyotaka figures, why he collects things. His cute anime boy dolls, his keychains of different cats, he tells himself that he keeps them because it helps him decompress all of the stress he held as a teen.
He's probably right, and so that's never been much of a problem.
As he nears the table by the front entrance, Kiyotaka notices something. There's a box there that he swears he hadn't placed before, and as he inspects it, he notes that there's a gift tag hanging off the side.
“From Daiya Owada.”
He eyes the tag, not giving much more thought to the situation before pulling his house keys out of his pocket and using them to pop the seal. He opens up the box, and inside lies one doll.
It's a bit larger than the anime figures Kiyotaka normally collects. He doesn't recognize the model, either. There's no way it's the secret one from the mystery boxes he collects, because he's already got that edition on his shelf, and it's much brighter than whatever this one is.
He pulls the doll out of its box, looking down at it with a raised brow. It's cute. It almost looks like that guy from the store, who must be Daiya Owada. It's wearing a white denim jacket, which feels almost like real material and not some faux replica, along with some jeans. It has these cute wolf ears that take up half of its head, too. Talk about exaggerated features.
Kiyotaka fidgets around with the doll. It feels sturdy. It has nice eyes that glow under the overhead light, and the big fluffy tail is poseable, as are the ears. The neck has a nice swivel, not too tight and not too loose, and overall… It's a well-made toy.
Kiyotaka glances back down at the box. He pulls the provided stand out, situates the doll on it and snaps it into place. He brings it to his room and sets it on his display shelf with the others he's collected, facing directly at his bed from the corner. He doesn't bother with any fancy posing.
Kiyotaka continues with his day, as if nothing happened. It's only later, as he's picking up the box to throw it out, that he starts to wonder how it even got into his apartment in the first place. Maybe Daiya asked someone working at his complex for a spare key, or maybe he picked it with a bobby pin like they do in the movies. Biker guys are full of surprises, so he doesn't think much of it. His only concern is that there was no phone number attached to the tag. That's unfortunate, he can't thank the man who gave him such a nice doll.