OVA - Carter Castilas
“Please, I just need a job,” I begged the worker. “I can work, I promise!”
“How many times do I have to tell ya?!” he answered with his cockney accent, glaring sharply. “I don accept da homeless crack addicts!”
“I don’t do drugs!” I said, breaths straining as I clutched the front counter desperately. “Please, I swear I can work!”
He just growled, and pointed to the door. “OUT!”
I just stepped forward. “I have talents in sciences! I can help develop plant food for your crops! I can be a farmer! I can do heavy lifting at your factories! I can do anything!”
He just shoved me back, making me stumble. “Security!”
Two men stepped out from the corners of his office.
“No,” I said then, getting desperate, “wait! Please, just wait a second! I swear I can work!”
They just caught me by my shoulders, making me kick harder as they dragged me out. “I swear I can! I SWEAR! Please, I need a job!”
But they just tossed me out the front doors, making me tumble backward onto the sidewalk.
I winced as the cement sliced my arms open, but I pushed the pain away, gazing up.
They just slammed the doors of the store closed.
I lowered my head then, staying in place as I breathed shakily.
A woman passed by then, holding a child’s hand.
“Sir?” the child said, making me gaze up hazily. “Are you alright?”
“No, sweetie,” her mom replied as she pulled her away. “Never talk to those men, okay?”
A whole separate entity of frost covered me, and I lowered my head again.
But I finally stood, starting down the sidewalks as all anger and fear replaced with a sudden numbness.
Men and women passed by me, some casting me disgusted looks, some purposely avoiding eye contact.
Many of the women rounded me by a yard or two to keep a distance.
I just clutched my torn and worn clothes, lashes lowering when I turned a corner—into the alleyway I called home.
I slid down the wall and settled on the floor, staring off into space numbly.
It was freezing out here… why was it so cold at night…?
I held onto myself, shivering as the midnight wind cut into me, and I closed my eyes tightly and pictured I was sitting next to a fire.
Sometimes, I could trick my brain into thinking I was warm, but it only lasted for a couple seconds until I refocused again.
My stomach grumbled, making the numbness inside me weaken as the pain of hunger swelled up my throat.
I clutched my chest tightly, fisting the fabric of my shirt as I huddled in with myself.
Cold, starving, alone… dirty.
I worked so hard for this country and this was the thanks I got. I fought in wars, murdered people, and then because of that, I was considered disabled.
Now I was stuck here… alone.
Thunder crackled across the sky, making me gaze up hazily.
My eyes darkened when a drop of rain splattered onto my nose, then another on my shoulder.
And—slowly—it started raining.
I held onto myself then, curling my shirt more over my arms as I closed my eyes, breathing shakily.
The rain felt like ice crystals piercing my skin, agonizing and cold.
I kept staring at the ground, lashes lowering.
But then it suddenly the rain stopped hitting me, and I heard it beat loudly against a fabric above me.
I gazed up hazily, brows drawing together.
A girl stood above me, looking no more than thirteen, but she was dressed like a noble. She had a long, expensive dress on, and a large, purple top hat settled on her head.
Although, she was holding an umbrella that hovered over me.
Another man stood behind her, dressed in what looked like butler-attire, and he held a second umbrella over himself and her.
“Are you Carter Castilas?” she said then, smiling.
“Who wants to know?” I retorted.
She giggled then, opening her single eye.
My brows immediately drew together when I saw the bandages covering her right eye, wrapping around her head so easily.
She… she was injured.
“My name is Yumi Phantomhive,” she said then, closing her eyes sweetly. “And you are Carter Castilas, MIA service agent. Or… was. You were thrown out from service when you betrayed the orders from your leader to save your best friend, and in return, they sent you to the streets as a punishment.”
My brows drew together. “How do you know all that?”
She gazed down at me. “I know everything, Mister Castilas.”
I just lowered my lashes. “You want something. Out with it.”
She glanced at the butler before looking back at me. “Sebastian, here, said you were looking for a job. Well, I just might have one for you.”
I gazed up then, brows drawing together. “Are you serious…? A noble asking a homeless man for work?”
“I’m not your typical noble,” she said then, smiling kindly. “Are you interested or not?”
I just narrowed my eyes. “What’s the job?”
“Well, after doing some research, I found out that you have a talent of killing with toxic gases, and me—especially—could have use for someone like you. Mainly because people try to murder me daily.”
“Murder you?” I echoed in disbelief. “But you’re just a child!”
“People are cruel beings, indeed,” she said then, lashes lowering. “So, my proposal to you… work for my manor, you can lift heavy objects, work around the house, clean when you have to, but your main task… prevent the manor from being attacked. If you see intruders on the lawn then eliminate them. And in return, you will have housing, food and water, as well as a payment of a hundred dollars an hour.”
“A hundred?” I echoed in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
I then stood. “Why would you take in someone like me? No one wants me to work for them.”
“My main interest, Mister Castilas,” she said, gazing up, “is gaining the most talented staff and giving them a job in their talent. If your talent is killing by poisonous gases, then I find use in you. It doesn’t matter if MIA kicked you out or not, everyone deserves a second chance. Especially someone as talented as you.”
My eyes sparkled then. “When do I start?”
The butler behind her just smiled. “Why not right now? You need a ride, don’t you?”
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