[center][h1][color=black]T[/color]OTSUKA [color=black]R[/color]YUSEI
[color=black]戸[/color]塚 [color=black]竜[/color]星[/h1][/center]
[hr][right][color=gray]a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time[/color][/right][hr]

[indent][color=c0c0c0]"The hell is wrong with Bats?"[/color] Ryusei asked, almost baffled that someone would complain about his brand. Maybe she proved the stereotype right and really did want menthols. [color=c0c0c0]"Don't worry about the sandwich. Somebody has been monopolizing much lunch time, so I was hungry. Consider your favor repaid."[/color]

While Shiori's tough girl image crumbled before him and he savored his afternoon snack, the arrival of a third caught his obvious attention. The guy seemed friendly enough—until his eyes landed on Ryusei. Typical. He wasn't exactly a beam of shining fucking sunlight, but why was it that all he got were glares and suspicious glances no matter where he went? Not even transferring a new town was enough to free him of the eternal chagrin of Japan's population, it seemed. He hadn't even said two words to the guy when they briefly passed each other in the store and he was already getting looked at like he stole something. 

It wasn't until the fellow spoke for a second time that the teen's pondering suddenly clicked. So [i]that[/i] was it, huh? No wonder this Sato seemed so upset with him. He could certainly understand the worry. Unfortunately for him, however, understanding did not equate to sympathizing, and Ryusei was in just foul enough of a mood to take a jab at the guy's expense. His companion almost assuredly wouldn't appreciate it, but hey, it was her idea to drag him along. She'd have to accept the consequences of her actions. Meandering over to Shiori from his position nearer the alleyway's exit, he slung a casual arm around the redhead's shoulders.

[color=c0c0c0]"Hey,"[/color] He greeted the older male, swallowing the mouthful of crispy fried bird and bun that had occupied his mouth prior, [color=c0c0c0]"I'm the snack."[/color][/indent]