[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/TSsC5ZI.png[/img]
[color=94ceab][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
⚫ None.

[color=94ceab][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
⚫ Café Yuki.
⚫ Rikimaru Fun House.
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Lowering his headphones, a petite creature made his way into a coffee shop he had known for years, and many to come. A favorite spot, one might say, with emerald eyes scanning what today’s events had on offer. Couples had made themselves comfortable by large windows allowing for a breathtaking view of Mahoukyo city, something an average citizen would likely take for granted. One would be forgiven for mistaking those glass barriers screens displaying the infinity of endless life, from roaring cars to silent steps. Each and every individual moving with purpose across a vast city-scape torn between three equally massive families branded factions of ideals, and rules. Yet, despite this, a weary soul could always appreciate a moment’s serenity embraced by relaxing music, and soothing aromas.

He did not drink coffee, the young marksman, and yet, there was an appreciation which lingered upon his features. Little could compare to the scent of grounded beans, transformed into a powder which could very well unlock the joy of an entire day. “The usual?” A voice trickled past quiet murmurs coating the inside of Café Yuki, directly aimed at the small creature turning to meet the owner of those words. 

It was not an odd, or unwarranted thought in attempting to decipher the green-eyed individual. He wielded an aura of innocence, each movement bringing with it a teenaged curiosity, if there was such a thing. His expression exposed a relaxed disposition, if somewhat mischievous in response to a question thrown his way. With slender fingers tracing a path down the strap across his scrawny chest, the elusive Rikimaru faction member let the appendage fall to his side, a hoodie moving to cover a majority of each digit. Though his large orbs, almost inhumanly so, scanned a menu presented for all to see, a decision had been made long before his converse-clad foot ever moved past the threshold at Café Yuki. 

Gently running his dainty fingers through strands of silken, black hair, Artemis shifted towards the counter where his svelte shape made itself comfortable. [color=94ceab]”What if I said no?”[/color] An androganous and accented tone traced a path through Artemis’ pale lips, the boy’s gaze landing on a barista he would whole-heartedly consider a master of the art. 

“I wouldn’t believe you,” a smirk bridged across the young woman’s face, a row of pearly whites revealing themselves, in response. She was an attractive prospect, something which none could deny, but Artemis still recalled the many midnight conversations held beneath a starlit sky. She had claimed that her love was confiscated by the café, an establishment named after her by a father now passed. 

[color=94ceab]”Bad way to treat your customers, [i]mein freund.[/i]”[/color] Artemis offered, before finding a hand playfully ruffling his already unkempt hair. [color=94ceab]”That’s assault,”[/color] the boy joked, affording his acquaintance a grin. However, little more than a shake of his head was required to return those strands to where they had been before such an unforgivable intrusion.

“You have an unpaid tab, kiddo’,” Yuki retorded, shaking her finger in disapproval. Though, the wink she spared dispelled any notion of seriousness following her statement. “Until you pay it, you’ve lost your customer respect privileges.” 

[color=94ceab]”It’s been a slow week,”[/color] the young marksman returned, lowering himself to a barstool which easily carried his weightless frame.

“Oh yeah, at that ‘job’ you’ve got that you can’t tell me about,” the barista smirked, crossing her arms.

[color=94ceab]”I told you,”[/color] Artemis spoke, his feet gently swaying by the bottom of his chair, [color=94ceab]”I’m a cleaner.”[/color] It wasn’t the most creative blanket to drape over the word ‘assassin’, but his general appearance was usually enough to invalidate suspicion. It was, after all, a double edged sword. However, if there were advantages to be taken, Artemis would not let them linger. 

“Unless you’re a highschool dropout, being a cleaner at your age sounds pretty unlikely, Arty,” Yuki rubbed her chin, scrutinizing the boy in front of her. What she truly knew about her mysterious customer could be summarized by his name, and interests. Yes, Artemis had confessed his love for singing, which was a one and only. However, despite countless pleas, he had yet bless her with a melody.

[color=94ceab]”Who says I’m not?”[/color] The boy grinned, watching how his hot chocolate was being prepared by Yuki who displayed enough benevolence as to disregard his tab, which was still growing. Artemis was likely the only individual in Mahoukyo proudly branded by a tab raked with hot chocolate. 

“Your vocabulary,” came a perceptive response from Yuki, as she slid the boy’s drink towards him. It was an unexpected approached, but one which caused Artemis to raise an eyebrow, followed by a soft chuckle. “Oh, and..,” she snapped her fingers, “the fact that you’re a part of Rikimaru.” 

[color=94ceab]”If I wasn’t,”[/color] the assassin sipped his drink, [color=94ceab]”you’d never get paid.”[/color]

“And we wouldn’t play the guessing game, every time you’re here,” Yuki mused. “A Rikimaru ‘cleaner’. You know what that sounds like, right?”

[color=94ceab]”Bad decisions?”[/color] Artemis finished, earning a string of laughter from the barista. What was going through her mind was true, of course, but the notion was ridiculous enough to brush over. Mahoukyo city in a nutshell, some would say. Nothing was as it appeared to be, and Yuki could likely connect more dots than she cared to. The boy’s elusive age, his vague remarks, and hidden past. Though, one could not blame her for appreciating the mystery.

“So, tell me,” Yuki derailed the subject to something else, entirely. “What’s it like in Europe? You never told me about your..,” she playfully wiggled her fingers, “exotic country.” 

[color=94ceab]”Less bowing,”[/color] the boy smirked, his slender, dainty fingers gently tapping on the surface of his hot drink. [color=94ceab]”But more sausages. I do miss sausages,”[/color] came a small sigh, though it was quite difficult to deduce its authenticity. 

“What an invigorating explanation,” Yuki chuckled, leaning forward to flick her regular customer on the forehead. Artemis rubbed the spot, but what had been a stinging sensation quickly faded into obscurity. He would be lying if he claimed that these moments weren’t precious, for him. Despite often visiting Café Yuki, they were quite rare, and in his line of work, comfort through interaction was all the more unique. 

[color=94ceab]”Alright, Yuki. I have a cleaner meeting to attend,”[/color] Artemis winked, taking a last sip of his drink. [color=94ceab]”We have to discuss the new mops, see.”[/color]

Another flick bounced against the boy’s forehead. “Oh yeah, tell me about those mops so I can get one and wipe your mouth with it,” Yuki chuckled, before ruffling her customer’s hair a second time. 

Their ‘farewells’ did not linger, and with a small wave, Artemis started on a path out of one cafe and eventually into another. As much as Artemis enjoyed the ‘fun house’ beneath his faction’s cafe, he would rather bring his business elsewhere. As one might have expected, the Rikimaru were quite rowdy. Even so, Artemis knew where his allegiances lay, and after an admittedly refreshing walk, he proceeded to find himself where his rifle called home. [color=94ceab][i]”Guten tag,[/i]”[/color] the assassin spoke, soon after he pushed open a path to the underground section of Rikimaru’s esteemed café. [color=94ceab]”Are we prepared to discuss [i]Null[/i] Time?”[/color] Artemis finished, dropping down on a bean sack with a gentle stretch.