Member
Sato Hashimoto // Rokurou's Place
JUNE 6RD 2015, SATURDAYAfterschool
"Say cheese."
Click.
The picture of Rokurou sitting on the floor, Naomi perched on a stool behind him, was so cute it made Sato nauseous. The way Roku's hair floofed up reminded Sato of a bird. Aside from the noxious levels of adorability, looking at Naomi in the photo sent a pang of benign jealousy through the teen's body.
Rokurou ripped the camera from Sato's hands, tossing it into some random cardboard box to the side. "Rude," Sato said, walking up and over to the box the camera was thrown into to. "This'll be for stuff I'll keep, okay?"
"Yeah," Rokurou continued sorting through the box he had his legs wrapped around, occasionally putting things in a different box or staring at something for a while. Seating himself by some other mound of junk, Sato continued shifting through for things of interest or relevance. The general rule Rokurou gave to him and Naomi for sorting was that anything that anything they'd think would be important to him or his family was to be kept. It was a little vague, but turned out to be easy enough. For example, the priceless family heirloom was to be put in the designated box. The finger painting his baby brother did was not. The trombone was kept. The Beginner's Guide to Guitar was not.
"Remind me why we're cleaning out your garage, Rokurou."
"Because," he said, pointing at Sato with what looked to be the remnants of a baseball bat. "it's basically my closet. And Dad said I had to."
Sato rolled his eyes, before continuing on with the monotonous task of prepping for a move. The reality of the situation started creeping back into his mind, though he quickly forced his thoughts onto something else once a sense of melancholy started eating at him. The object of his focus became an archery bag. Opening it up, he found a worn-beyond-use bow and a bunch of arrows. Normally, he'd just toss them considering the age and apparent use of it all, but the arrows packed in with the bow caught his attention. They were... real. Well, not really. They were the same kind of arrows they had at the range, though the heads were replaced with something a little more sharp. Is that illegal? Why Rokurou had them, he could only guess. The conversation Sato'd had with Rui a while back flashed through his mind again. If he were to go into that 'mirror world' and fight 'shadows', something more potent than the practice arrows he had would be helpful.
Stashing them beneath books and sheet music, Sato got up to set the box he'd been filling with undesired desirables outside the garage door, to be taken on his way out at the end of their cleaning adventure.
Sato Hashimoto // Abandoned Warehouse
JUNE 7TH 2015, SUNDAYMid-day
"I saw them..." The boy said.
Sato stood beside the other new member of the team, Kotori Shirohane. He was unsure of her abilities, but regardless, she had the power of a persona and was sure to be a strong asset. While they were already acquainted with the majority of their team members, anyone that was left were done moments ago. The witness, a boy named Kaminari apparently, urged the team on to get moving, but everyone decided to be careful and prepare accordingly. Additionally, hearing the name Riku surprised Sato a bit. He only knew one Riku... there was no way that guy was in the team too.
Slipping the archery bag off from his shoulder, Sato bent down to sort through his equipment. He figured if he was going to fight, he'd use a weapon he was used to. How potent years-old makeshift arrows would be on shadows, Sato had no idea. Well, he had no idea what a shadow was even. Or how to use his persona, even. Megumi had given him and Kotori a quick rundown on everything and what they specifically could do, at least. Either way, Sato had a dozen arrows and the bow he'd gotten a few months back strapped to his back. It was only then that he realized a fatal flaw in his plan. If he ran out of arrows or had to fight close range, all he had were his arrows and persona. He needed something better. Something a little more reliable...
And Sato found just that. There was a spread of equipment on a table nearby, and upon rustling through it a bit, the teen found just the thing. Drawing it out of its sheath to quality-check, Sato picked up a knife from the table. Hopefully nobody else needed it, as he was taking it. Now feeling adequately prepared, knife at his side and bow weighing at his back, Sato walked over to where Rui was, waiting for some kind of order. Though it was undeniable that the pit in his stomach was of fear, there was no stopping now. He could do something about the cult's kidnappings, and he'd made a promise to.
