[color=5048cd][b]Ryuji Igarashi - Out Doing the Rounds (Near District 15-District 7 border)[/b][/color]

The 5:30 PM streets of Academy City, just as the sun began to sink in the May skies.

[url=https://youtu.be/0gE95LcQ560]In a word...[/url]

[color=5048cd]"'Scuse me. Pardon. [i]Shitsurei[/i]. Pizza, coming through."[/color]

Packed. Paaaaacked. Packed, packed, packed.

Stepping off into the nearby bike lane, a teenager of roughly 173 centimeters in height freed himself and his cargo from the throng of people clogging the Academy City walkways. Dressed in a sharp green polo and denim jeans, he brushed his cobalt hair away from his eyes, taking care to balance the cardboard box upon his fingertips as he took a running start. It was a natural part of the Academy City ecosystem, and it wasn't as if the concept of "rush hour" could ever be alien to anyone in an urban setting; the only truly unique part about this place was how many of these people were his peers. Fellow students, as opposed to nine-to-fivers, were what made up the majority of sidewalk congestion. People getting off of club activities, going hang out with friends after getting home, whatever could drive a teenager to be out and about was.

The grip of the asphalt released upon his feet with little more than a thought. Placid blue eyes squinted slightly, as they were brushed by the breeze of a casual cruise.

[color=5048cd]"There we go."[/color]

For Ryuji Igarashi, that drive was work. Luigi's Pizzeria, a local spot with (in all fairness) pretty good pizza, was popular enough to be delivering, and had historically needed some fast movers to get the food to people who needed it. Ryuji, a young man who often found himself needing a quick buck on the side, fit that bill with aplomb— they didn't even need to trust the kid with a vehicle! With his Esper Power, a level 2 friction-control type, he could just glide along the ground as he was now, providing easy, quick, and remarkably smooth transportation of these artisanal goods!

[color=5048cd][i]For a given value of "artisanal", anyway.[/i][/color]

It was an instant hire.

He had no doubt it would be the easiest job offer of his life, but the job itself was another matter. Being a high schooler, Ryuji by necessity worked a lot of evening shifts, which meant dealing with a lot of people in a lot of places. Pizza was a popular dinner choice. It was doable, sure, especially when you could get around with as little effort as him, but even his calm demeanor could get worn down at the end of a long night of stingy tippers and obscure locales and pedestrian traffic.

The first two he couldn't help, so he tried to not let himself agonize over them. The third, however, he had developed a robust cheat sheet for—

[color=5048cd]"'ey, good hustle."[/color] He gave a thumbs up to a cyclist as he leaned past them, pushing off the air with that same hand afterwards to add a bit more speed.

Chief of which was the bike lane. Free passage for anyone who could keep up— And he certainly could, at least with bikes. Venturing out onto the [i]road[/i] road wasn't smart unless he really wanted to run for it. And this early in the shift...

Nah. This was a game of endurance, not raw speed. Better to do it on cruise control for anything except priority delivery. By all means, skip the masses of people lining up for Gekota merch, shouting profanity into their cell phones, or making tracks for the local mall— but you'd be dumb to run yourself ragged before your first break.

So, he slid on, at an easy pace of "just faster than most bikes".

All in all?

Normal day. Just another one to knock off the calendar, nothing too important or special about it. He'd probably run into a weird character or two answering the doorbell, but that would be about it. Not terribly engaging, he noted, but that was the service life. A man had to learn to deal with it and move forward, just like anything else.

Especially in Academy City. Any other town and his power, the way he gracefully flowed across solid ground like an ice rink, would turn heads for miles. Here? Maybe a glance brought on by the uniform more than anything else. This place was a den of the amazing in that respect. A city full of those who, with enough will, could break certain parts of reality and rewrite it with their own new rules. Espers that could teleport from one place to the next, freeze ambient moisture and shape the ice, even cause localized earthquakes— All of them called this place home. Far more fantastic things than him were a part of everyday life.

In that respect, you couldn't say something so simple as "ah, lots of people here today" measured up in the slightest to "Uh oh, that's Amori. Better be ready for uneven surfaces". In fact, he was for once glad that the day was trending towards a little dull. Better that than having to answer to an unreasonably, angry Level 5 that he was not actually allowed to deliver to her.

A bit of a frown pulled upon the edge of his lips. Apparently, his propensity for managing to "get away" with that (and straight up get away from it) meant that his coworkers tended to field him "the weird ones".

Unfamiliar numbers. Like those with area codes outside the country.

Unfamiliar locations. Like the ass end of a cram school.

Unfamiliar demands. Like "send your cutest delivery boy~!".

[i]Ah, Ryu-kun can take care of himself the best, probably! He's cute enough, and it's not like anyone could keep up with him if they disapprove, right?[/i]

[color=5048cd]"They all gotta live a little."[/color] he muttered. [color=5048cd]"Not like I'll be around forever."[/color]

That last one did happen, by the way. A couple Garden Schoolers thought it would be a fun prank after seeing something about it on tumblr.

They were disheartened when he showed up in mint condition, and not suffering from any scrapes or bruises earned by defending his honor and ranking as "the cutest".

It was the end of the shift, too, so he was a bit more frank with them than usual when he informed them of their folly.

He doubted they'd ever called back since.

[i]This[/i] order, however, was pretty normal. A regular customer, living in a regular part of town, at, honestly, a pretty regular hour. Part of the reason it wasn't any skin off his back that he was out during "rush hour" was in the simple fact that this was when a [i]lot[/i] of people wanted a slice of faux-Italian goodness.

He caught a sign and used it as a centrifuge, swinging to the right side of an intersection, and allowed himself a beguiling smirk.

[color=5048cd]"Helps that everyone tips, too."[/color]

A man's gotta eat.