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Six hours.

After Takashi left Chris, he managed to sleep for Six, dreamless hours. His alarm went off at noon, and he opened his eyes and silently rolled out of the bed and began to prepare for the event Takashi mentioned to him earlier in the day. After a long hot shower, Chris took the time to look at himself in the mirror of the bathroom. He ran a hand through his hair, it was getting longer than he’d like. 

[color=2E8B57]“You need a Haircut Bell.”[/color] Chris muttered to himself as he began to run a hand along his face, feeling the roughness of his facial hair as he grimaced. Chris brushed his teeth and combed his hair sweeping it neatly straight back with gel to finish his ritual in the bathroom, but decided to skip on the shave, deciding to save a little time so he wouldn’t be late to this gathering. 

He’d then attached the spring loaded knife to his left forearm and tested the mechanism, with a flick of his wrist the blade sprang forth. Good. Chris pushed the blade back into its resting position and got to work on the suit he’d wear for the event. He figured he might need something formal, and with only an hour to prepare he decided the NSF military uniform Takashi mentioned would make him late. So he went into his luggage and took out the dull black suit and white dress shirt he wore every christmas back when he was a Blackwatch Operator.

[color=2E8B57]“Haven’t worn it in a year.. Should still fit.”[/color] Chris thought to himself as he patted himself in the stomach, letting his hand run along his skin. He was far from the Mr.Olympia competition, but he wasn’t sporting a dad bod or a beer gut… yet. Chris got to work methodically ironing out the wrinkles of the suit, he couldn’t get it pressed,but it’d have to do. Slowly and methodically he began putting on the suit as he finished ironing it. First the white long sleeved shirt, then the pants. Chris checked his watch after he finished polishing and putting on his dress shoes. 1:15 the clock read, so Chris quickly tied a blue tie loosely around his neck and put on the coat, holstering his pistol into a shoulder holster he had under the suit’s coat. He gave himself one final look in the mirror and nodded to himself approvingly.

[color=2E8B57]“If nothing else.. I can clean up nicely.”[/color] Chris thought to himself as he made his way to the garden. 

Upon entering he realized just how out of his depth he really was. Takashi entered in one of the finest suits Chris had ever seen, and he was just the beginning. Just about everyone that entered the garden seemed to be wearing something expensive, form fitting, or traditional to Japanese culture. Chris looked down at the suit he pulled out of his luggage. It was five years old, and any who looked could tell. The color was fading, and the fabric was starting to wear after its no doubt repeated visits to a washer. All the same Chris tried his best to blend in. Figuring it’d be better to disappear to the back of the garden  than to be escorted out for being under dressed for the occasion. He silently put a cigarette to his mouth, not quite yet lighting it as he glanced upward and noticed a younger kid announcing his presence. 
He couldn’t be much older than the girl he saved earlier in the day at the bus depot. And he was better dressed than Chris.

[color=2E8B57]“Great”[/color] Chris thought. As he shook his head. The words being spoken by all but Takashi being lost on him, he resorted to people watching as he lit the cigarette hanging from his mouth in the back of the room. He watched a skinny boy with soft facial features, but covered in bandages enter the room, he also watched an objectively beautiful woman in traditional Japanese garb walk over to Takashi and speak words to him he couldn’t make out. 

He took a drag of his cigarette and kept glancing about the room until Takashi called the room to sit. He would linger for a while, trying to get the most out of his cigarette before making his way over, putting out the nub on the heel of his dress shoes. He relinquished his coat, and made his way over to sit down, tightening the shoulder holster closer to his body in order to avoid it swaying around. He would then take a seat, offering anyone who looked at him a polite smile and half nod.