August 13 ~ Saturday ~ Midday ~ The Streets of Tokyo
Shuichi walked among the crowds of people, his hands in his dress suit-like pants and the new glasses he got nearly two weeks ago in full use. He wished to take off the suit-like jacket he had on; the summer heat was beginning to effect him. Still, he had a job to accomplish.
He whiped hand across his forehead as his dark eyes scanned the names of the small - probably family owned - businesses around him. None of them appealed to him, then again, neither did the thought of getting a job. He had to get one sooner or later though and Kiyokata had clearly wanted sooner.
*^*I don't see the point of a job. Once my parents are dead, I'll just inherit their wealth.*^* He thoughts were more like jabs in his mind, another effect from the humid day. *^*Might as well pick a shop and try before I die from the damned heat.*^*
There were several different type shops around him: a small ramen shop; a pizza shop; a coffee shop; and a bakery; respectively. He made ramen too much at home to want to make it at a job. Making the different types of pizzas would surely confuse him. The next in line was the coffee shop. Making coffee was easy, and he liked coffee, as long as it wasn't black.
Shuichi walked into the shop where about 50 other people were sitting at small tables drinking coffee and chatting. This of course, was no surprise ((ooc- I
found out (when looking up pizza in Japan) that coffee shops in Japan are very popular and usually ran by families. Most have over fifty at any time of the day!)) He headed straight to the counter and requested for the person in charge.
A chubby, short man who appeared to be a foreigner, came to the counter, a look of disgusted, annoyance clearly showing in his body structure. He stood, placing his big hands on his large hips and demanding to know why he was called out in very fluent Japanese.
Shuichi smiled at the familiar guy. *^*This will be easier than I thought...*^* Shuichi thought with a smirk forming on his lip. "Ichigo Shuichi. I want to work here." He demanded this more than requested, making sure to pronounce his surname so that the man caught it.
The man's expression turned blank for a flash moment. *^*Excellent. I thought he was that clumsy fatso that was at my parents dinner party a couple monthes back.*^* The Ichigo name was a very popular one in the undergrounds of Tokyo. Shuichi loved that power.
The little fat man turned to the boy besides him who had just finished serving an elderly woman and told him to come pick up his last paycheck tomorrow. He then turned back to Shuichi, forcing a cheerful smile on his chubby face. "Welcome to my coffee shop!" he said, raising his short arms to as far as the could go.
Shuichi smiled satisfied. "I'll come by tomorrow then," he told the man, turning on his heels to leave.
He whiped hand across his forehead as his dark eyes scanned the names of the small - probably family owned - businesses around him. None of them appealed to him, then again, neither did the thought of getting a job. He had to get one sooner or later though and Kiyokata had clearly wanted sooner.
*^*I don't see the point of a job. Once my parents are dead, I'll just inherit their wealth.*^* He thoughts were more like jabs in his mind, another effect from the humid day. *^*Might as well pick a shop and try before I die from the damned heat.*^*
There were several different type shops around him: a small ramen shop; a pizza shop; a coffee shop; and a bakery; respectively. He made ramen too much at home to want to make it at a job. Making the different types of pizzas would surely confuse him. The next in line was the coffee shop. Making coffee was easy, and he liked coffee, as long as it wasn't black.
Shuichi walked into the shop where about 50 other people were sitting at small tables drinking coffee and chatting. This of course, was no surprise ((ooc- I
found out (when looking up pizza in Japan) that coffee shops in Japan are very popular and usually ran by families. Most have over fifty at any time of the day!)) He headed straight to the counter and requested for the person in charge.
A chubby, short man who appeared to be a foreigner, came to the counter, a look of disgusted, annoyance clearly showing in his body structure. He stood, placing his big hands on his large hips and demanding to know why he was called out in very fluent Japanese.
Shuichi smiled at the familiar guy. *^*This will be easier than I thought...*^* Shuichi thought with a smirk forming on his lip. "Ichigo Shuichi. I want to work here." He demanded this more than requested, making sure to pronounce his surname so that the man caught it.
The man's expression turned blank for a flash moment. *^*Excellent. I thought he was that clumsy fatso that was at my parents dinner party a couple monthes back.*^* The Ichigo name was a very popular one in the undergrounds of Tokyo. Shuichi loved that power.
The little fat man turned to the boy besides him who had just finished serving an elderly woman and told him to come pick up his last paycheck tomorrow. He then turned back to Shuichi, forcing a cheerful smile on his chubby face. "Welcome to my coffee shop!" he said, raising his short arms to as far as the could go.
Shuichi smiled satisfied. "I'll come by tomorrow then," he told the man, turning on his heels to leave.