[center][h1][color=ad4e92]H[/color]OSHINO [color=ad4e92]N[/color]ORIAKI[/h1][/center]
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[color=ad4e92][sub][b]D A T E[/b][/sub][/color][hr][sub]April 9th 2018[/sub]

[color=ad4e92][sub][b]L O C A T I O N[/b][/sub][/color][hr][sub]Commercial Kyoto[/sub]

[color=ad4e92][sub][b]T A G S[/b][/sub][/color][hr][sub][@Scribe of Thoth][@WXer][@psych0pomp][/sub][/cell][cell][indent]
Noriaki resisted the urge to bristle at Daigo's quietly muttered statement. Of all the places for people to claim he had an accent, fucking Kyoto? If he wanted to take shit for the way he talked, he would have moved to Tokyo and dealt with all those urbanites up in Kanto. An ironic thing to internally fuss over, considering his current preoccupation in crowd navigation. It seemed as though the ginger youth—for all his lack of height—managed to follow along just fine, even going as far as to introduce himself more properly. 

[color=ad4e92]"Hoshino Noriaki. Nice to meet you."[/color] 

The teen responded succinctly as he passed the so-called Dog-a-Corn, pausing in front of the pet shop doors as his companion posed a question. In all honesty, he didn't have any further plans aside from this, and it certainly didn't seem like Asakura had anywhere impressive to show him back when they discussed plans in class. He thought on it for a second or two, before an avian display inside the store proper caught his eye and became his muse.

[color=ad4e92]"You guys like chicken?"[/color]

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The shopping Noriaki had to do was mercifully quick, impatient as he tended to be. A litter box and accompanying scoop, some actual liter, a food bowl, a couple of cans of some godforsaken fish concoction and a collar. He had also splurged on a couple of cat bow-ties, but he tried to keep those out of sight of his companions—he didn't need Asakura lecturing him on being up-sold on accessories. A cat deserved to be dapper and he wasn't going to let somebody who shared a hair color with blueberries scold him on that.

But thoughts of fancy cats were far from his mind as the group approached their destination: FamilyMart. It was a bit like the blind leading the sighted, the new kid dragging the natives to an eatery, but Noriaki had always liked the chicken they sold. Besides, he didn't have much to snack on back at the house anyway, so it was an investment in both his present and future hunger. The typical ring greeted the group as Noriaki forged ahead, and the clerk piped up with more forced enthusiasm than expected for someone of her posture. Not like he cared.

[color=ad4e92]"Yo,"[/color] He greeted out of equally expected politeness, before peering over his shoulder towards his fellow classmates, [color=ad4e92]"I'm telling you guys, you buy some curry bread and smack a hunk famichiki right in the middle of it. Best chicken sandwich you're gonna get from a konbini."[/color]

He spoke with all the authority that years of being a ravenous, semi-broke student athlete could lend one in regards to cheap convenience store fare. Whether or not they believed him mattered little—he had bread to procure, and chicken to inspect. He didn't want to end up with one of the dry pieces from the front, and the counter-faced cashier certainly didn't instill him with confidence when it came to choosing a juicy one.
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