Sakuraba Ryuichiro Sun Jan 09, 2011 11:47 pm
"It's been a while, oji-san. How's business?" the crimson raven chided, surprising the old man where he bought a few packs of vanilla-laced tobacco last week. Crossing his arms in a calm way, he let his back rest at one of the wooden posts holding the water-resistant cloth which made up the shop's roof.
"Ah," a note of curiosity hung together with the man's words, his head turning to gaze at his customer. "Very well, my lad. This bag of bones had a myriad of buyers as of late, and 'lo, me didn't expect that ye would be coming here teh'day." Hoarse yet jovial laughter erupted, earning a small smile from the raven. "What can this old man do fer ye, fine young man?" he said, sitting at an oak barrel and fetching his cigar box nearby. Sizzling noise of a struck match later and the air smelled like middle-class tobacco, akin to the one's the raven used to have during his dorm days.
A shrug and a sigh came out as a reply. The young man did the same thing, lighting his own stick and looked up at the near-night sky.
"Ne, oji-san. I got a Mark just earlier." Wisps of smoke drifted lazily around the male, enveloping him in a haze of crimsons, yellows and oranges.
"Well, young man, me congratulate ye. Me had this gut feeling that yer Mark will be quite hard though," the shop owner remarked, adjusting his antique-looking eyeglasses to prevent it from sliding off his nose. "Ye must be prepared, my lad. Not to offend ye, but yer a scrawny ferret. This old man will be sad if he loses 'nother customer," he said sagely.
Sakuraba almost chuckled at the metaphor. "Gee, oji-san, I'm tougher than I look. You make me seem like a kid thrown in the midst of a godforsaken war." A quick puff and his eyes soon got interested in a flock of birds pecking on a nearby street, feeding on crumbs that a number of kids were scattering.
"Hmmm. If ye say so. Ye wouldn't be a Marksman if ye could not even brandish a blade," the old man spoke, taking notice his customer's stoic expression. The birds continued to hop and peck around the kids which soon held his attention. "Ah. Such peace. You miss being a kid, eh?"
"Of course, oji-san. Who wouldn't?"
"Then go ahead and be one. Yer young, so don't ye waste it. Trivial things don't suit you, my lad. Maybe ye'll know when yer a waning existence such as this man," the store owner said light-heartedly, as if lecturing his favorite grandchild. "Ye said ye are looking fer yer best friend, eh?"
Sakuraba just nodded in response. "Then leave it fer now." The lone onyx orb widened at the old man's statement.
"Ye must take a break, my boy. Chasing around someone fer many years is tiring, isn't it? It's a good thing ye took a Mark. Diversion, that is."
The raven remained silent, pondering at the man's words.
"Did ye happen teh hear the word 'gravity'? Me learned it from one of me buyers. He traded some parchment fer ink, methinks," the old man muttered, caressing his beard and sucking a drag of smoke. "No matter how far ye are, ye exert a force that brings ye t'gether. Like an invisible string connecting ye, can ye follow me, young man?" He cleared his throat and continued. "So don't ye push it too hard. Maybe he wanted ye teh take a breather on running after him and he wishes ye teh learn that."
"Maybe so," out came the clipped reply. "I hope that's the case then." Breaking his train of thought, he straightened and turned to face the man. "It's been nice speaking with you, oji-san," he said sincerely. "Unlike a certain obnoxious person from the Tavern," growled Sakuraba, recalling the tender's antics.
"Me won't pry about that, my boy." Gentle pats on the raven's shoulders seemed to calm him down. "But me could somehow say that ye two get along well, eh?"
"Ugh. VERY WELL," he replied, sarcasm oozing from every syllable. Recovery came quick. "Anyway, I was hoping to get three packs of the same vanilla cigarettes I had last week. Do you still have those?" he queried, cigarette hanging between his lips, his hands busy checking his pockets for a few coins while the old man rummages his wares.
"Ah. Here it is! There's plenty of these as of the moment. Three packs then?" Calloused hands met smooth, feminine hands in an exchange of goods and payment. "Me got the exact amount, my lad. Would there be anything be anything else?" He appraised the young raven's look. "Ye sure ye can go to a Hunt in flimsy gear, my boy?"
Sakuraba flashed a row of pearly whites. "I've been battling for years now wearing only cloth, and bulky armor isn't really my thing anyway. Thanks for your concern, oji-san." He then hid his packs inside his blazer pockets, allowing the other man to see a glimpse of his Evoker.
"Now me see why. It's quite rare to see a gunman in the Order."
"It seems like it," Sakuraba replied. "I must be on my way now. I shouldn't show Lord Domitrix any tardiness." With that, he left for the Tavern.
