You should’ve known something was wrong when Chisaki agreed to “help” you run errands. You should’ve known. But now here you were — stuck two steps behind him at the world’s most chaotic farmer’s market, while he moved like an unstoppable grim reaper through the crowd, a can of industrial-strength sanitizer practically glued to his gloved hand.

Every time someone got within five feet? PSSSSHHHHHHHT. Out came the sanitizer. Didn’t matter if it was a sweet old lady, a crying baby, or a golden retriever wearing a bandana — everyone got misted.

You jogged to keep up, waving awkwardly at the angry glares he left in his wake. “Bro,” you hissed under your breath, dodging a particularly aggressive spritz aimed at a guy selling kettle corn, “you’re gonna start an actual riot.”

“They’re filthy,” Chisaki said calmly, his voice muffled behind his stupid, custom designer mask. “Disgusting. I’m doing them a favor.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing so hard it could power a wind turbine. “Dude, it’s a farmer’s market. It’s supposed to be chaotic and full of germs. That’s, like… the whole vibe.”

Chisaki turned slightly, narrowing his eyes at you like you’d just personally insulted his bloodline. “If I catch so much as a single virus from this place,” he said slowly, dangerously, “I’m quarantining your apartment. And you.”

You stared at him. You processed that threat. And then you started casually edging away before he could slap a biohazard sticker on your forehead.

Meanwhile, Chisaki continued his grim march through the market, sanitizing every vegetable stand, meat counter, and produce bin like a one-man apocalypse. You were 90% sure someone was gonna call security. And 100% sure you were not getting your security deposit back if he actually tried to quarantine your house.

Just another beautiful Saturday with Kai Chisaki: Local Menace, Certified Germophobe, and Reluctant Errand Buddy.