[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oBJ38oL.png[/img]
[@Krayzikk] [@Crimmy][/center]

[color=0072bc]"It's not that. It's nuttin'."[/color] Brennan's forehead collided gently with Umeko's, along with a brief affectionate hand that traced fingers through her neat brown hair. [color=0072bc]"Foiiiine. We can sit down for some coffee."[/color]

He stood upright again, ceding Umeko control of the basket without a fight as he made his way to the colder sections of the store, past ice cream, frozen dinners, milk bottles, and the television screens above the refrigeration units that advertised each product.

[center][color=0072bc][i]VISIT 326 BOOTH AT THE DIANOID KANACON THIS WEEKEND! TRY MAGICAL POWERED MINT TIE-IN FLAVOR AND TUNE IN FOR--[/i][/color][/center]

[color=0072bc][i]"When it comes to milk, it's gotta be MUSASHINO!"[/i][/color]

[center]--in bright neon, as a voice in heavily-accented English rang out--[/center]

[color=0072bc][right][i]"My boyfriend loves it too!"[/i][/right][/color]

Umeko bought right into this sort of crap - tie-in flavors and promotions with anime and cute catchphrases she could parrot back at him. Brennan had never trusted the milk here; in a place where everything seemed to be some kind of experiment requiring [i]some[/i] kind of volunteer waiver, he found it hard to believe that not a single scruffy, perverted researcher in Academy City had the Category 5 brainstorm to mess with the hormones of female students through their morning cereal. Kawaguchi laughed at him whenever he made his case, sometimes going so far as to label him a conspiracy theorist like the ones in the message boards online. But Brennan was well aware of the strain on both their backs whenever he was shuttling Kawaguchi around somewhere. Something was amiss inside that girl, and it definitely wasn't all the [i]shoujo[/i] shit she put on while they worked. 

[center][color=0072bc][i]--SATURDAYS AT 9![/i][/color][/center]

It was one thing to bluff about it to some fucking slag, as he had the night before, but who the hell [i]actually[/i] paid with a chequebook? What was he walking into at the bank?

He should've gone alone today.

They met up at the self-checkout, each carrying a mix of fresh dairy, vegetables, fruit, some beef for patties - he had been trying to teach Kawaguchi the art of a European pub burger, a favor Umeko would often repay by taking him to some of the best [i]karaage[/i] places in the city. They had both done wonders for the other's food palates, if nothing else; he doubted that teaching her how to season a burger would get him out of the shit pit with her tonight if Judgement or Anti-Skill apprehended him at the bank, however.

Maybe he'd take her to the Dianoid this weekend or something... 

They paid cash for their order and, walking home with a couple of bags each, walked down the street to the bank. Brennan didn't feel nervous. He feared nothing, especially not now; after all, he'd done nothing wrong, and nobody could prove otherwise. All he'd done was chase down a criminal who tried to buzz off with a corpse to commit God-knew-what kind of fucked up debauchery with it. He was basically a star witness if anything.

He was more agitated at how this little mystery had been nibbling at him last night. He would rather be at home watching the launches from around the world on TV, seeing how far other governments, entities, or students had progressed with their launches. Umeko was only thinking about students that they knew, other aerospace aficionados in Academy City. Brennan was thinking further ahead, thinking wider than that...

[color=0072bc][i]ding[/i][/color]

The welcoming noise of automatic doors broke him out of his reverie, followed by their hydraulic hiss as they opened up to the young couple. Brennan took the lead, the cheque in his vest pocket weighing on his chest like a barbell. Nonetheless, he seemed - and felt, honestly - at ease as he sidled up to the first available teller and turned on a winning smile.

[color=0072bc]"Good morning,"[/color] he said in Japanese. He didn't like using the language; English was a more natural fit, and he'd taught Umeko to understand him through the syntax and his accent. Having a language you could use to talk to your gal pal while keeping most of the city frozen out of the conversation could get handy. Still, it would help to be as clear as possible on this. [color=0072bc]"I want to make a deposit, but I kind of have a funny feeling about it."[/color]

He produced the check, holding it between two fingers, but didn't offer it up yet.