Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
He’d never had German food, so he couldn’t provide his opinion on it. He’d grown up eating very basic Japanese cuisine, the occasional Korean meal, but mostly his household lived on classic Americana. Things his dad liked. Hamburger helper, pot pies, spaghetti, meatloaf, casserole - the staples. Nothing special, nothing particularly delicious. Salt, meat, bread, butter. He wondered if German meals were similar. What did they have a lot of there? Beer. He knew that much.
“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” he joked, too caught up in the food placed before him to check the other’s reaction.
Fuck, it looked good. Smelled even better. It felt like it’d been ages since he’d had a hot meal, especially one freshly prepared and not nuked in a low wattage microwave at a 7-Eleven. Leo was practically drooling. He pulled the small plates closer and shifted in his seat, digging right in, and...ah...it tasted even better than he could’ve hoped. He could've cried. He gave a soft hum of approval and started eating a little quicker, not realizing he was eating with all the manners and restraint of the starving kid he was. That was to say, none at all. The second the rich food hit his stomach, though, he felt that telltale churn of protest and made a pact with himself that he’d keep it down no matter what. If he had a better idea of when he’d be able to eat like this (or at all) again, it wouldn’t have felt like such a big deal. But he needed the nutrients while he could get them. And he didn't want to have to relive the meal as disgusting in an hour or so. He wanted to savor it.
“I don’t know about a plan, though. I’m just...around,” he decided to further explain after washing down what he’d inhaled so far with a big swig of umehsu. “Grabbed a flight here, couldn’t afford one back. But I dunno if I would’ve even if I had the money. I’d say I’ve done pretty fine for myself so far, considering.” He shoveled some rice onto his chopsticks and brought it carefully to his lips, not the most skilled with them but doing a well enough job. It wasn’t his first time using them, at least. “What about you?” Leo asked while chewing. “You a full time alley patroller? Cop or something? Seems like you got a lot of friends.”
Hikaru was all too content to just sit in the lingering silence as Leo scarfed down the food. He could tell how hungry the kid was, heart aching just a bit more at the thought. Poor guy. He didn't know what had brought him to Japan, what had prompted him to hop on that plane and fly halfway round the world, but it surely wasn't anything good. The idea of him sitting out in the Tokyo streets starving to death wasn't one he wanted to contemplate--it would surely ruin the mood--but the way he devoured that plate gave him the worst kind of ache. At least he seemed to like it and even before Hikaru could warn him to slow down, the kid had begun to savor the dish more. Good. As much as he would be willing to do it, he wasn't all that keen on helping some vomiting new acquaintance. [break][break] "Well, you've survived on your own, which is more than I can say for some strays I've found," he murmured, lips hovering at the rim of his glass before shooting back another quick drink, finishing off his second tasting in one fell swoop. He told himself to slow down as he poured his third, though the gentle numbness the alcohol wasp providing for his aching wounds was far too relieving for him to actually listen to his own sound advice. [break][break] "Ha, no, not a cop," he replied, swirling the newly-poured liquid before taking another sip. He reached over and snatched up a pinch of Leo's food, popping it into his mouth before any protests could be voiced. "Used to be, but I left a couple years back. Alley patroller actually works pretty well," and he snickered, taking the moment to decide how much he wanted to share. Kid certainly didn't seem like the type o go snitching about... "I uh... I didn't like how things were being run; decided I could do it better on my own. So now I scour the alleys of Tokyo looking for trouble. I think vigilante is the English term for it?" He shrugged nonchalantly, golden gaze watching the way his umeshu circled in his cup. "I just uh... I don't like seeing other people get hurt. Makes me feel better to be able to help out, ya know? Even if it leads to a few extra doctor's visits." [break][break] He said the final bit with a lilt of humor to his tone, flashing his companion an encouraging, upbeat smile. He'd gotta hurt plenty worse than that night since he'd started his little miniature crusade, becoming a bit of a regular to the hospital. Just bad luck, he'd always explain, that tension-easing smile and friendly disposition always enough to deter further questions. [break][break] "And that's not why I have a lot of friends," he added after a moment. "I have a lot of friends because I'm a nice guy. And speaking of which, you got a place to stay tonight? My apartment isn't much, but it's warm and a hell of a lot comfier than some alley concrete."
He’d eaten so much so fast, he wasn’t hungry anymore but he kept shoveling it all in anyway, albeit slower, so he didn’t mind when Hikaru reached over and took some for himself. It was too good to waste and he was determined to get his fill while he had the opportunity, but there was plenty to go around. And now that he wasn’t scarfing it down, his attention focused back on his momentary meal ticket.
Not a cop, but an ex-cop.
A wary glance lifted from the plates to the other man, only weighing on the blond for a moment before finding his glass. He’d spent plenty of time around cops and while he couldn’t speak for the Japanese brand of them, he didn’t care much for the American ones. Good for nothing monkeys with a laundry list of complexes working a system meant to hurt more than help. Fucking dicks. He pulled the glass close and observed the swirling liquid as the man explained that he didn’t like how things were being run which had prompted him to become some alley brawler. He chuckled at the addition about visiting the doctor and finished half the pour in two gulps. At least he bailed on the shitty career choice, but Leo couldn’t help but worry that the kind of guy who took a job like that in the first place could change enough to be a friend.
It was a strange way to spend one’s time, vigilantism. Leo could’ve been a piece of shit murderer or worse, for all he knew, and Hikaru risked his life to help him. Alley patrol sounded stupid on the surface, but Leo was met again with an impusle telling him the guy was cool. Jumping into fights, recklessly getting the hell beaten out of himself, giving no consideration to what the situation he was barging in on actually was - sounded like the kind of passtime Leo could respect. “Yeah, I bet it is,” he salaciously mused, grin crooked as he brought another bite to his lips. Warm. Comfortable. A real nice guy.
He didn’t look over at the other man, picking apart a chunk of meat lone on a plate with his chopsticks and chewing on tiny pieces at a time so the peppery, metallic taste wouldn’t end so soon. That grin remained apparent and he made no attempt to conceal it. This was a game he was used to playing.
“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” Leo repeated his same question as an answer from earlier, this time adding, “Or maybe you'd feel better if I say no?” He quirked a brow and observed his reaction before giggling softly, playfully, and finishing his glass. Starting to feel more okay - lighter, tingly, talkative - his hands immediately went for a refill. “Can’t say no to such a kind offer, can I? ‘Specially from the guy who just bought me a meal and went full Batman in some alley for me. You’re not taking me back to Wayne Manor, are you?”
