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Tweak says, "foood stuuuufs"

Ikeda Kiriko | 池田妃凛子 (apathyisboring) wrote in disappear_rpg,
@ 2010-06-16 00:37:00

Entry tags:

kiriko, reizo

WHO: Kiriko, Reizo.
WHAT: "Confession" is probably the wrong word.
WHEN: Weekend after Seiko dungeon, but before any investigatening occurs.
WHERE: Noodle Alley.
WHY: Had to happen eventually.

Kiriko wasn't nervous. She felt a lot of things - determined, eager, maybe a little aggressive – but not nervous. The feeling she had was the kind of thing she had come to associate with shadow confrontations in Paradise. It was kind of the same basic concept, really, when she thought about it - chat him up, wear him down, drag him home... or something along those lines, at least.

She’d texted him a while ago, and was now waiting at their designated meeting place. The set up had been that Kozue was busy and she needed someone to celebrate with, which was the best kind of lie on account of it being half true. Kozue wasn’t busy at all, but with her wallet finally full again, she was feeling quite celebratory. Living on her gratuitously reduced allowance hadn’t been as painful as she’d expected, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been painful.

Noodle Alley was relatively busy (to be expected on a Saturday evening) and she’d taken to people watching while she waited. Comparing herself to girls that walked past was an old habit, but apparently one that died hard. She was satisfied with the results: a couple that could compete with her, probably none that could outright ‘beat’ her. Strangely, she didn’t take that much comfort in it – she already knew she looked good.

She’d come nicely dressed, but not conspicuously so, the only notable difference from her everyday wardrobe being that her hair had been twisted up into one of those artfully messy buns that was meant to look as though it took twenty seconds when it actually took at least ten minutes to get all the strands in the “wrong” place. She had the kitsune clip in, despite it being early in the rotation. Maybe a little unsubtle, but that was fine if it spared her words. The words part was the part she had yet to figure out yet, anyway.

She craned her neck, looking for a head above the crowd.

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some_other_dog
2010-06-20 08:13 am UTC (link)

It wasn’t hard to make him out when he finally did arrive on the scene.

The milling crowds of high school kids and salesmen parted around the boy as he walked, shock of white hair cruising above the crowd like a shark’s fin as he cut through them, shouldering past (roughly) the ones who weren’t quick, bodily or mentally, enough to get out of his way. One unfortunate soul got shoved so hard that she went crashing into a stool, arms pin wheeling crazily for balance, cell phone flashing through the air and fetching up against the fence lining the alley.

The stares levied at his back, reproachful and frustrated, were ignored. He was too tired to care, too tired to glance over his shoulder and stare down anyone stupid enough to look him in the face, and he needed what energy he had to deal with the girl he’d agreed on meeting today -- or he thought he did. Ikeda wasn’t quite as tiring anymore, hadn’t been since the beach trip, and though the bikini had certainly helped he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

Still, he put on his game face, grim and stony, as he approached her, catching glimpses of her through the little pockets of crowds, and then at all once there she was, the crowd scattering away from him and leaving him an easy path to the chair beside her. He frowned a little at her hair, and was looking at it candidly as he walked up to her.

The menu drained his attention away when he crashed into the seat beside her, and he propped his chin up in his palm and stared at the bounty of bowls dreamily while he perused it. Some of the stands were different, and the owner of this one’s face was pinched with recognition, but there was no open terror in his face, which meant he hadn’t visited it enough.

“You payin’?” He asked her without looking away from the menu.

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apathyisboring
2010-06-20 09:28 pm UTC (link)

She watched with her chin propped up on one hand and one slender eyebrow arched high as he made his way through the crowd, white of his hair parting a sea of black. By the time he fell into the seat nearby and started gazing longingly at the menu, she had formed her impression: someone was cranky today.

"Yep," she answered. "But I'm cutting you off if you try to bust me, and you're on your own if we go up the street for drinks." She jerked her head in the general direction of Bar Kidnap. The question of Food v. Drinks had caused serious deliberation over which would better grease the wheels - food was safe and time-tested (and cheaper!), drunk people were generally more easy to take advantage of (and she deserved some absurd mix of exotic fruit juice and alcohol right now, dammit). Crankiness considered, food had definitely been the correct choice - drinks had too many uncontrollable variables and the fact that she often became unfortunately talkative against it, but planting the idea never hurt (and seriously, at least a cooler or something would be nice).

She tilted her head and looked up at him salivating over the cart's menu. It was probably best to speak up before he made up his mind.

"We aren't staying here, though. Just let me get a drink."

Kiriko stood, asked for a pop, and pulled her wallet out. She drew no specific attention to it and did not pay in ostentatious bills, but it was hard to miss the fact that it was suddenly full to the point of bursting, a few 500 notes sticking haphazardly out of the top. It took her a few moments to get it snapped shut again once she had opened it, but she was moving faster with it than she had for months, as during the last half-year any venture involving her wallet had involved lingering, mournful stares into its empty pockets. As it was now, it was fat enough to suggest she was planning to take Kozue shopping.

Without any comment on this, she led them up the street a little further to where the carts thinned out and the diners started, turned into a busy one and secured a seat at the end of the bar. The place was dimly lit and relatively well-kept, and looked like one of those family-owned things that earned a reputation for good food to compensate for questionable decor. Either way, it was an upgrade from ramen carts. She nursed the drink she'd come in with, already half-done, as her eyes flicked over the hanging menu boards. Her chin was propped up on the heel of her palm, fingernails against her lips. She smiled as she looked at him sidelong.

"Thanks for coming, but you don't look very celebratory."

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some_other_dog
2010-06-21 06:52 am UTC (link)

Reizo regarded her carefully, bleached white hair dangling down in his eyes, cutting the gaze into ribbons. A cigarette hung rakishly from the eternally smirking corner of his mouth, and his zippo clinked when he opened it to light the cancer stick before he sighed and pushed up off the counter and onto his feet to follow her wherever the hell she wanted to go, legs bandied apart and hands stuffed down in the deep pockets of his pants as he fell into a familiar, swaggering gait.

“Who the hell orders a drink from a ramen stand?” he asked her back, eyes rolled skywards to watch the clouds peter by, and lowered them just in time to see her suddenly swerve into a diner. He followed her in, ducking beneath the door frame and frowning. It didn’t have the Ikeda feel, this place, and the way her wallet had bulged (with smaller bills, he’d noticed) made it all that more confusing.

He took a seat beside her, again, and shrugged expansively.

“Been busy all day. Tired,” was the only explanation he offered, a wispy stream of smoke curling off his cigarette and dissipating as it drifted higher, mingling with the odor of the bar. He wore a slick white suit, only slightly rumpled and the tie half-pulled off his neck, and his hair hung in his face in a manner that suggested that maybe he’d hastily washed some gunk out of it with a garden hose.

“And from the look of your wallet, it looks like you’ve been busy too.”

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apathyisboring
2010-06-21 07:36 am UTC (link)

Kiriko knew better than to ask with what. She'd noticed the suit... or more accurately, hadn't missed its significance. The suit itself was probably impossible to miss, judging from the way the girl on the other side of Reizo moved over an extra seat as surreptitiously as she could manage as soon as he sat down. She took a drink, wondering what he looked like with his hair slicked back. It was unfortunate - she could have wished for a better day - but this was just the kind of thing that happened when you made plans via text message an hour and a half in advance to avoid raising suspicion.

When he spoke again, she smirked into her drink, unable to help herself. After polishing the rest of the can off and setting it down, the smirk had dissipated into a look of faint amusement.

"Well, the kids at our school are pretty stupid."

She'd been hoping he'd bring it up, mostly because she'd been dying to tell somebody - and who else could she possibly tell?! The majority of her closest friends and confidants were presently being at least somewhat exploited by her plan, most of them at her urging. Kozue had gotten off pretty well - better than another friend who had attended school in silver spandex and green face paint for the past two weeks, as part of her act - but Kiriko had a feeling she would maybe not approve of being auctioned off for a date as a way to move merchandise.

"You know that idol thing that's been going on?"

Honestly, she was not completely sure how he'd react. It had certainly been effective as far as filling her wallet back up in a timely fashion went, but the whole thing did lack a certain finesse and elegance. Then again, she was confessing to the guy who had engineered the cheesiest date in existence for far less profit - at least she had managed not to put herself in the direct line of embarrassment.

"As it turns out, our student body is willing to part with 100,000s of yen to see Ishinomori dancing around in cat ears."

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some_other_dog
2010-06-23 02:56 am UTC (link)

He nodded once, a simple and direct agreement with her first statement. Kids at their school were damned stupid alright, and they had a fair share of them on their little club too. It was just, in a way, even worse because he had to not only learn about their problems, but experience melodramatic flashbacks, and sometimes even dangerous reenactments. Thinking about it made him all the more tired.

He caught the chef’s eye as he listened, poked three fingers into the air to order silently, but otherwise sat still in the stool, smoke streaming away from him like a runaway locomotive and broad upper body hunkered over the bar frame. He shifted position from time to time, attempting without much success to find a comfortable manner to sit without jamming his knees up against the bar itself. It was hard being tall, sometimes.

“So you either exploited their stupidity or sadism,” he said, thoughtfully. It wasn’t a bad idea, all around -- it‘d made some quick, easy cash and it was a promising start for her. His last scheme had cost him money, and though he didn’t need it and it had been great fun watching Oubai hammer the last nail in the coffin that was his relationship, it had still cost him money, which was never acceptable.

“I’m pretty sure Kondo took me for a ride that cost just about that same amount,” he muttered, the rueful smile and awe buried inside the memory taking the legs out of his bitter tone. “So you might wanna watch that she doesn’t catch wind of it and decide to take you shopping.”

He glanced sideways at her, the smile flickering but not completely disappearing, “Don’t go getting any ideas, either. You don’t have some asshole of a boyfriend I want to get back at.” One of his large hands snaked onto her thigh, and he looked her flush in the face, the dare a brilliant, malicious twinkle in one of his eyes, “and you ain’t showing enough skin to melt the sense out my head, either.”

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apathyisboring
2010-06-23 04:01 am UTC (link)

She recognized the look in his eye - it was the same look he got right before he leaned in to undo her tie and the top buttons of her blouse and shove her into the classroom (which seemed to be one of his favourite things to do after they'd been to lunch together), or when he came up and hugged her from behind while some unfortunate soul was attempting to stammer out a confession (which could sometimes be a blessing in disguise, depending on the unfortunate soul), or when he grabbed her ass while walking by, apparently just for the sake of it (which was just as often payback for subtle barbs aimed at him earlier in the day). Her eyes fell to the hand on her leg, then swept up just as quickly to the man behind the bar who was waiting for her to order. She looked over the menu one last time, signalled for a #4, then leaned forward against the bar, smiling easily even as she carefully avoided meeting his glinting gaze. With an almost disappointed click of her tongue, she propped her chin up on her hand again.

"Knew I should have worn the halter top."

She glanced down again when she was relatively sure she wouldn't be caught looking. She didn't mind his hand there - besides the fact that it was relevant to her purposes for the evening, she was more or less used to being randomly accosted by Reizo, whether in return for some earlier provocation or to be returned at a later date. According to the rules of engagement, she was now obliged to attempt to fluster him at her earliest convenience.

Hopefully he wouldn't mind if she just let his hand sit for a while.

"Actually, it was more like exploiting their vanity," she said conversationally while someone from behind the bar set down two glasses in front of them. "Talked Retsu into paying for the whole thing just by telling him he'd get to see his name up in lights and go down in 'Student Council President history.' It's a bit pathetic, really."

The splashing sizzle of oil hitting the pan filled up the momentary silence - the food probably wouldn't be too long. Kiriko's fingernails were against her lips again, halfway to obscuring her contemplative smile. It wouldn't do to brag about it, but she really was quite pleased with herself over the whole thing. Her first escapade into venture capitalism might have been a little ridiculous, but that didn't make it any less successful. For as reluctant as she had been to lead in Paradise, she was apparently good at putting things together and finding collaborators. Chances are it would have been much simpler to just look for a part time job somewhere, but she couldn't help but feel like she had proven something, if only to herself.

"Anyway," she continued, as if unaware of her moment of silence, "I've been shopping with Kozue before, she isn't so bad... Though I don't doubt that she took you for all you had." She paused for effect, then flashed him a grin. "Maybe I'm rubbing off on her?"

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some_other_dog
2010-06-25 12:02 am UTC (link)

He cast around after she replied, looking this way and that, giving the dive they were in a scrupulous once-over before he turned to look at her again, toothy grin slotting easily into place, though it didn’t look nearly so sadistic and threatening as usual -- it might’ve been the good humor dancing darkly in his eyes, or the discoloration from lack of sleep beneath them.

“Well, it’d improve the view by a lot,” he quipped, and his hand slid a little further up her leg, until his fingers were just hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. He watched her carefully, cheeky grin softening into a puzzled smile. She wasn’t smacking his hand away or snarking at him. Making money must really put her into a damned good mood.

He glanced away to take a drink, and when he turned back to her, head tilted and eyes only dropping momentarily to his daring hand, he smirked.

“And just how often do you rub off on one another? Call me over with a camera one night, and the money you make offa that business venture would keep you going for a long time.”

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apathyisboring
2010-06-25 02:18 am UTC (link)

Another impatient click of her tongue, this one real rather than mocking. Her other hand joined the first on the bar, her fingers threading together so her chin could rest on them.

"Yeah right. You'd have to ask Akuba for that. Or Aoi... or Sonozaki... Or Yukizaki, too, apparently..." She paused in thought, brow wrinkled. Hadn't Yoshimi and Kozue both copped to kissing girls back at the hotel? God, his constant complaints about everyone on the team being gay except for him were getting to be more observational than anything. "Just your luck," she shrugged. "Apparently, I'm the only straight girl on the damn team."

Her elbows slid off the counter to clear way for the food being set down in front of them, and she nonchalantly removed his hand from her leg as she straightened up. As far as she could tell, nobody had been looking (one of the perks of hanging out with Reizo: people looked once and deliberately avoided doing so again), but that would undoubtedly change if his hand kept sneaking up the hem of her skirt.

The food looked good, if a little lacking in presentation value. Tasted good, too, as she soon discovered - not really surprising, that tended to happen in old, dumpy (by her standards, at least) places. Somewhere nicer would have just felt weird, she reflected, even if he had showed up in a suit, much against her expectations. She eyed him up and down. Asking was probably pushing her luck, and she already knew the answer anyway.

There were other things she was still curious about, anyway.

"So how'd you get her to the love hotel?"

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some_other_dog
2010-06-25 03:28 am UTC (link)

The smile, puzzled, slipped into a frown, which was even more quizzical. What the hell? Well, they were girls, and girls being gay wasn’t as bad as guys, ‘cuz it was at least something he could enjoy watching, but the not-being-able to touch them bit always sorta threw him off. Goldfish were shitty pets, lesbians made shitty girlfriends. Made sense to him.

He glanced down at his own hand when she pushed it away, and he rolled his eyes with a click of his own tongue in response, but otherwise remained quiet. He turned in his seat towards his own food and dug in, his huge bites of food and gulps of drink a stark contrast to the more ladylike dining of the girl beside him.

“Uhn?” He grunted out, eyes turning sideways to look at her. Love hotel? Oh. He swallowed his last bite with a gnashing of teeth and some effort, then cocked his head and eyebrow at her. Was one secret worth another? Tit-for-tat? Well..

He took another bite of his food as he considered it, chewed it slowly, and when he swallowed he finally answered. “I got a buncha my friends to fake chase us through the streets. They’re big guys, and there were a lot of ‘em, so it’s not like I looked like a pussy running away or nothing, and I even ‘beat up’ one or two of ‘em before I grabbed Kondo and ran. We ended up threading through some alleys, then bashing through a love hotel, and yeah.”

He turned back to his food and hunched back over it, and started wolfing it down again.

He spoke once more without looking up from his plate, his words only slightly muffled from the food in his mouth. “Still worried I fucked her, huh? Or just jealous?”

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apathyisboring
2010-06-25 04:11 am UTC (link)

She poked at her food in between eating it. The plates were too damn big. What he was describing must have been the cheesy, engineered scene Kozue was talking about. She was trying to imagine it, wondering if she'd fall for the same thing. Reizo running from anything was kind of hard to buy, but hindsight was 20/20, and she could hardly blame Kozue for not asking questions with a bunch of thugs chasing after her.

When he spoke again she rolled her eyes. She leaned further back in her chair and lifted the back of her hand to her forehead.

"Oh, it's true. I've been crying myself to sleep at night." Her voice was as overburdened with drama as her actions, and she turned in her seat, gripping his shoulder with her other hand while the first stayed plastered to her forehead. "The thought of you going steady with another girl, while here I was trying to work up the courage to ask you to the ice cream social!"

She dropped her hand, gave him a look, another eyeroll, and a gentle shove before returning to her plate (and a much more dignified position). Of course, the reality was that she had been jealous, but nobody needed to know that but her. Hopefully being flippant enough about it would make up for having jumped the gun and shown her cards too early back when it happened. All the same, for how often he accused her of jealousy, she had to wonder if he liked the idea.

"Anyway, what kind of friend would I be if I wasn't worried you got to her?"

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some_other_dog
2010-06-26 11:34 pm UTC (link)

Reizo sat silent (well, beyond the noises of him stuffing his face) as he ate and she proved herself a fitting lead in the next all-Japanese production of Gone With The Wind. When he was finished, which didn’t take too long, he pushed his plate back further on the counter and reached for a new cigarette, though it was a wonder why given how he’d sucked the last one down after his plate had been set down in front of him. Without so much as a cursory glance around to see if anyone cared that a minor was smoking in the shop, he lit it, stuffed his zippo back in his pocket, and then leaned his elbows heavily on the counter and sat nursing his drink through one corner of his mouth with the cigarette jutting jauntily out of the opposite corner.

He shoved her back, far less roughly than the people who‘d refused to get out of his way earlier, and shook his head.

“You sayin’ I’m not a trustworthy kinda guy? That hurts, coming from you.”

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apathyisboring
2010-06-28 06:35 am UTC (link)

By the time he'd finished, she was only halfway done. It wasn't so much that she was full as it was that she already had her eye on another menu item she wanted to try, and it was obviously important that she got some kind of dessert. She waited until his plate was pushed forward and he was busy lighting up, then slid the leftovers in front of him without so much as a sideways glance.

"Of course I think you're trustworthy." It was unlike Kiriko to miss sarcasm, which meant she was deliberately ignoring it. The ice in her glass clinked against the sides as she took a sip and set it back down again. She was staring into it with the faintest of smiles - a calculated pause broken only when she lifted her eyes to peruse the dessert menu.

"Why else would I have asked you out?"

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