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Half past ten. Despite arriving on the dot, Chiharu unhurriedly enters the bar. All good things to those who wait. Conversation buzzes in the air, loud enough that hushed voices fade into the background, but quiet enough for people close together to hear each other. She spots her client sitting at an unassuming table by the wall. Green index card flipping over and over in their hand, they spot her too.
Their first reaction is to frown and look away, letting their searching eyes wander to other people. A moment later, they look back. The man's eyes focus on Chiharu’s hair and she can practically hear everything click into place. He looks down at his index card, then back to her hair. The colors match. Chiharu smiles and nods. She quirks an eyebrow when the man visibly relaxes, then looks around her for anyone else. Chiharu’s grin tightens. She knows this type of client. Of course, anyone that came to her was cunning and calculating, but some just didn’t know when to stop. Everyone seemed surprised that ‘Shun’ was a woman, as if that somehow changed who she was.
Chiharu makes a point of waving at the people by the counter. A couple of the outgoing type wave back. Though they’d never met before, to others, it might have seemed like Chiharu knew them. Someone like her client – on guard – would definitely err on the side of caution and dismiss any underhanded ideas She continues without missing a beat, sliding into the chair across from him. From her seat she can nearly the entire bar.
“Kido, is it? I believe I have something for you." Chiharu produces a couple of dull paper packets. Taking to one on top, she glances it over before handing it to the man. “Okura Kyo. He’s made his share of questionable choices, but given what he does, it’s not unexpected. Wasn’t he your business partner? Is this the right person?” If looks could kill, Chiharu would be facing her final judgement. She holds his gaze, eyes revealing nothing. Eventually Kido gives up. He ignores her comment and confirms that this was, in fact, the right person. His agitated hands wrinkle the paper.
“Great. I have the rest here." She motions to the remaining papers and pulls out a cassette. Movement across the room catches her eyes. She pauses briefly to squint at the bartenders. Was that? A cough brings her attention back. Chiharu gives a quick apology.
“Now for your part. The favor we talked about. Has it been settled?” As the man fidgets – perhaps looking for excuses – Chiharu's eyes drift back to the counter. That posture, those gesture he couldn’t help. She couldn’t help but feel the bartender seemed familiar.
Morihei Jikai
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