Post by Hiro on Jan 21, 2020 4:40:54 GMT
Weekend mornings in downtown Musutafu tended to be rather calm and quiet affairs. With a good portion of the population enjoying a day off from work, the streets were notably less busy and the student population wouldn't be out and about until much later in the day. When the skies were clear, a small street market would open up about this time, selling all manner of fresh produce, home-made goods, and whatever nick-knacks someone had the prescience of mind to set out. As the earlier risers milled about exchanging pleasantries, gossip, and goods, it generally painted a rather pleasant scene. Yes indeed, weekend mornings like these were usually quite peaceful, relaxing things.
Usually.
***
This is was right about the time you started cursing. Hiro remembered cursing, and damn did he miss it. Hell, didn't have to be a swear word; being able to vent your frustration with a simple shout or expletive was something that just about anyone would take for granted, he was sure. He couldn't do that anymore; even the most herculean effort could only muster the softest of grunts, and that tended to be pretty counter productive since it just made him even more frustrated. No, the effort was better spent elsewhere. Better spent running.
With an old ruck sack slung over his shoulder, the boy vaulted over a low table and went about weaving through the crowd of early morning shoppers. Hiro could still hear the shouting behind him, and despite his maneuvers it didn't seem like it was getting all that further away... must have some sort of mobility quirk, that was always fun... How the hell did he get into this anyway? All he'd wanted was to get some damn food, but the lady running the stall must have decided she didn't like the way he looked or something and refused to haggle down to the 87 yen that he had in his pocket. Cheapskate. And so, when someone didn't feel like helping you, what else to do but help yourself? It had been a clean grab, got a nice fresh loaf of bread, but he'd been greedy and tried to make another pass to get a little extra. Someone bumped into him when he passed and drew the lady's attention, and well.... here he was.
People stopped and stared as Hiro ran past, but his face was obscured enough to hide his features. It wasn't his work clothes or anything, no need for anything so showy for something like this, but just a simple grey jacket with the hood drawn up and a dark blue bandanna tied up to cover everything below his eyes. Sure, the old lady had already seen what he looked like, but leaving behind one senile witness was better than a hundred more reliable ones. With that precaution in place, rather than avoiding the crowds Hiro went right through them, darting past with the knowledge that they would slow down his pursuer more than they would ever slow him down.
Eventually it seemed that his evasion started to bear fruit. Hiro could hear the lady's shouting fade and move off in a different direction behind him. Old Hag must have lost track of him... which meant he was in the clear, right? Well, one could hope anyway.
Usually.
***
This is was right about the time you started cursing. Hiro remembered cursing, and damn did he miss it. Hell, didn't have to be a swear word; being able to vent your frustration with a simple shout or expletive was something that just about anyone would take for granted, he was sure. He couldn't do that anymore; even the most herculean effort could only muster the softest of grunts, and that tended to be pretty counter productive since it just made him even more frustrated. No, the effort was better spent elsewhere. Better spent running.
With an old ruck sack slung over his shoulder, the boy vaulted over a low table and went about weaving through the crowd of early morning shoppers. Hiro could still hear the shouting behind him, and despite his maneuvers it didn't seem like it was getting all that further away... must have some sort of mobility quirk, that was always fun... How the hell did he get into this anyway? All he'd wanted was to get some damn food, but the lady running the stall must have decided she didn't like the way he looked or something and refused to haggle down to the 87 yen that he had in his pocket. Cheapskate. And so, when someone didn't feel like helping you, what else to do but help yourself? It had been a clean grab, got a nice fresh loaf of bread, but he'd been greedy and tried to make another pass to get a little extra. Someone bumped into him when he passed and drew the lady's attention, and well.... here he was.
People stopped and stared as Hiro ran past, but his face was obscured enough to hide his features. It wasn't his work clothes or anything, no need for anything so showy for something like this, but just a simple grey jacket with the hood drawn up and a dark blue bandanna tied up to cover everything below his eyes. Sure, the old lady had already seen what he looked like, but leaving behind one senile witness was better than a hundred more reliable ones. With that precaution in place, rather than avoiding the crowds Hiro went right through them, darting past with the knowledge that they would slow down his pursuer more than they would ever slow him down.
Eventually it seemed that his evasion started to bear fruit. Hiro could hear the lady's shouting fade and move off in a different direction behind him. Old Hag must have lost track of him... which meant he was in the clear, right? Well, one could hope anyway.
