[color=7ea7d8][b]YUTO SHITANAGA[/b][/color] - Shitanaga Home -> 1700 Coolidge Road, Swindon, TX
	Saturday, 10/5/2021 - 7:00 am
	Interacting with: Director Sokolova [@Hitman][hr]
Yuto woke with his bedside accessories blaring something vicious. He could feel thin rays of warmth squeezing into his room.

[color=7ea7d8]“Hiram,”[/color] he grimaced, eyes still closed, [color=7ea7d8]“This better be bad.”[/color]

“Good morning, agent. You have a mandatory training exercise at 1700 Coolid—”

[color=7ea7d8]“Tell Sokolova I’m not- my apologies. Finish what you were saying.”[/color]

“Mandatory training exercise at 1700 Coolidge Road in twenty-six – twenty-five now – minutes. Failure to attend will result in significant consequences.”

[color=7ea7d8]“Thank you, Hiram. You can let the Director know I won’t be participating.”[/color]

What was the saying - better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Though Yuto suspected that the esteemed Director would be miserly with both, it was worth at least taking a shot. It mattered little either way. Better to take it on the chin than suffer through trust exercises with the little twats – pardon him, [i]‘fellow agents’[/i] – that had brought this punishment upon the cohort in the first place. He saw no reason to be dragged along with the [i]real[/i] failures in the team.

Yuto eyed the clock. There was some time to kill. Muffling a yawn, went through the motions – bathroom, wardrobe, weapon, papers, keys. Once his belongings were in place, he made his way downstairs. Uncle Hirose was already at the dining table, placed in front him a bowl flooded with grain. Granola. It was always granola. He looked away from the morning television and waved.

“Mornin’, Yuto.”

[color=7ea7d8]“Good morning,”[/color] the teen replied. He searched through the fridge for two dark bottles.

“You drink coffee now?”

[color=7ea7d8]“Not the American kind.”[/color] The bottles made a clinking noise as they went into his shoulder bag. [color=7ea7d8]“I may be busy all day today. Take Kevin to the recital if I’m not home by two, if you would.”[/color]

“Hmmmmm?” Hirose scratched his chin, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “[i]Sou da rou?[/i] You were home late too. Got a special little lady you’re seeing, kiddo?”

Yuto heard a reflexive [color=7ea7d8][i]‘tch’[/i][/color] leave his mouth but he managed a shrug. [color=7ea7d8]“If that’s what you want. Goodbye.”[/color]

It was a less than five-minute drive. Entirely possible to arrive on time, even earlier if he wanted. Instead, he parked a block away and scrolled through his news feed. Viral farm animals. No leads on mystery shootout in Timbuktu. Burberry with a new line of coats. So on and so forth.

Ten minutes passed and he exited the car. He made sure to approach with one of the bottles visible in hand.

[color=7ea7d8]“Director,”[/color] he greeted her with a nod. [color=7ea7d8]“My uncle got a new batch of his imported cold brew; would you be interested? It’s an early morning.”[/color]

The woman’s gaze remained cold as ever. She barely gave him a glance. Not ideal. He briefly entertained the idea of an apology, a practiced and insincere apology, but refrained. False platitudes would only worsen her mood. The offer of a gift should be sufficient, if his instructors were to be believed.

Yuto simply sighed and stood a distance away, deciding not to try his luck with any more words.