[h2][color=fff79a]Iwao - Central District[/color][/h2]

Now would be as good a time as any to make the disclaimer: Despite being quite the capable brigand of the fridge in question when believing himself thirsty, Arizawa-kun was rather unsophisticated in palate when it came to appreciating the fruits of his plunder. Case in point: once his immediate thirst was quenched and the novelty of the first chug wore off, Iwao didn't really know how the hell to judge beer.

It tasted... okay? He wasn't so green as to be bewildered by the fizzy, vaguely bready flavor, but once you got to the idea of adding in "floral" or "citrus" notes... shit seemed lost on him, was all. Granted, Mochizuki hadn't exactly bought anything snooty. Maybe the high-brow stuff that college students were typically priced out of woulda been easier for a guy like him to discern between, but the only opinion he could really offer now was...

[color=fff79a][i]Yeah, alright.[/i][/color]

Still, drink in hand on a day like today was hard to go wrong with.

[color=fff79a]"Yeah, caught him on the way out. Told him I'd save what I could."[/color] he replied over the can, pulling up a chair as he glanced toward the nearest window. [color=fff79a]"And you dunno the half of it. No clue how he plans on surviving. Those [i]sleeves[/i], y'know?"[/color]

This went without saying, given that she wore long stuff without fail, but Sayuri needed to heed such a warning herself.

Descending with slightly [i]more[/i] grace than collapsing into a lax heap upon the seat, he idly swirled the liquid in the can around as the ghost of befuddlement played across his face for a moment. Putting the problems of weather appropriate gear aside, something seemed [i]off[/i] with his housemate today. She was more or less a pretty quiet sort, a lot like himself, and seemed to shy away from the spotlight. That much was true, but even at her most withdrawn among the houses's more colorful personalities, Sayuri was usually pretty pleasant to be around. More positive in her silence than [i]his[/i] gray-colored ass, for sure.

So what, then, was with the sighing? Wasn't exactly normal. Pulling hair? Maybe, he didn't really know one way or another, but her tone was all disappointed. Like lamenting she'd just missed out on the last can of... beer in the fridge...

Coincidence, surely. He was 95% sure she'd laughed off similar circumstances, she was nice like that.

He glanced between her small frame, currently minding the dishes in the sink, and his can before quietly setting it on the table in case he needed to offer up an apology. Whatever the case on alcohol in this house was, the girl seemed down, or maybe [i]drained[/i], in a way that didn't strike him as doldrums from the warmth. This needed the [i]correct[/i] approach.

Iwao and "correct", as it happened, were a self-admitted rare mix. 

[color=fff79a]"You good, kid?"[/color] he bluntly asked after a moment, voice textured a little raspier by the beer. [color=fff79a]"Seemin' kinda in the dumps— What's up?"[/color]

Also, let's just brush over the fact that he was without a doubt the younger of the two, and keep going.

[@Ambra]