WHO: Kigai Yuuto and Shin Seijuurou WHERE: Shin's apartment. WHEN: The day after this thread. WARNINGS: None. SUMMARY: Yuuto drops in for a visit. FORMAT: Quicklog.
Yuuto lightly scratched the side of his face idly as he held the gift in hand. A football -- a professional NFL grade football, as that what he was told to get as a gift, as he would be honest in saying that he did not know the difference between any of the different types of balls that one should get -- with a red ribbon more or less scotched tape to the side. He took a moment to stare at the door before pulling his hand away from his face to knock on said door with a quick rapping of his knuckles.
After a moment's pause, the door opened. Shin stood in the doorway, drying his hands off on a towel. He was a fairly average-looking guy -- Japanese, black-haired, average height -- except for his muscular frame, which made it clear that he was, in fact, a football player. He studied Yuuto for a long moment, his expression blank.
There was a moment to take in his new friend -- matching it up to the image that he had in his head and not quite showing on his face if it fit or not (it didn't). Regardless, he did not look disappointed in this fact. He did wonder what the other saw when he looked at him. Yuuto was sure he did not look particularly Japanese with his blond hair and light brown eyes, but he supposed that that was how it happened sometimes in the genetic game. Either way, he smiled in a bright and friendly manner, as he always did.
"That's right. It's nice to meet you in person, finally, Seijuurou-kun."
That voice confirmed it. To be honest, Shin hadn't even noticed Yuuto's coloration; he was the sort of person to identify people by voice and body type alone. As such, he nodded and did not comment on the matter. "Yes," he said, stepping back and opening the door for him. "Same here."
Behind him, the apartment was small and incredibly spartan. There were no appliances or decorations of any time. A pot rested above a tiny gas stove, which seemed to be the only thing remotely mechanical in the entire room; everything else had distinctly analog replacements. Such as the plastic ice box in one corner of the kitchen, and the set of candles sitting out on the low table in the main room.
Still, Shin seemed to be happy and in good health. Or ... well, as happy as Shin got, which tended to be less "happy" and more "not sad." Of his injuries, only a few scattered bruises on his left arm and a bandaged forehead were left. "Come in," he said, and turned to attend to the meal simmering on top of the stove.
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"Kigai Yuuto?"
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"That's right. It's nice to meet you in person, finally, Seijuurou-kun."
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Behind him, the apartment was small and incredibly spartan. There were no appliances or decorations of any time. A pot rested above a tiny gas stove, which seemed to be the only thing remotely mechanical in the entire room; everything else had distinctly analog replacements. Such as the plastic ice box in one corner of the kitchen, and the set of candles sitting out on the low table in the main room.
Still, Shin seemed to be happy and in good health. Or ... well, as happy as Shin got, which tended to be less "happy" and more "not sad." Of his injuries, only a few scattered bruises on his left arm and a bandaged forehead were left. "Come in," he said, and turned to attend to the meal simmering on top of the stove.
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