...look, it's not like he doesn't know the strange things this bar can do. He remembers he once fell in love with a young woman here, for no rhyme or reason. And he's a playa playa. Love is always one sided, and not on his end. So he's well aware the bar can make you feel strange, at least
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"Don't," she mutters under her breath, half-flinching as she pries out a tiny crossbow. Lately, it's been doing this thing where it likes to shoot whenever it pleases, so she's kind of hesitant to even touch it, lest she get an arrow in the face ag-
"AHHHHSONOFABITCH."
- again.
"I'm going to smash their heads together," she says to no one in particular, squeaking and whimpering as she tugs the little arrow out of her cheek.
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...yeah how the hell is he going to get any homework done with boobs and a woman stabbing herself with tiny harpoons.
Staring Minato is staring.
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"What."
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wat.
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Shinjiro's got a table with a free chair and an unmarked bottle.
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Well, shit.
Running away or hiding's moot, isn't it?
Minato plops down inside the free chair, eyeballs the unmarked bottle, and considers two things: whether he should get all high and mighty about underage drinking, or whether he should hope Shinjiro doesn't like girls or at least doesn't like the kind of girl Minato's looking like at the moment. Do. Not. Want.
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"Should I even ask?" he asks before considering a moment, then getting another cup. He pours some of the sake for Minato and offers it. The boy could use it, he figures.
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...well, if the player behind the curtain has any say in it.
He narrows his eyes. "What is that?"
Avoiding the question? Nah.
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