Shibuya Snapshots

Bag

This prompt was fun but also ran away from me several times. Not my fault, these two interacting was such an interesting concept to me.

Fuya smiles and readjusts the bag on his shoulder. Who knew that a simple commission could lead to such a big haul of hope?

-xXx-

Fuya stares up at the building in front of him, anxiety starting to condensate. Calm down, it's just a building, he tells himself. Even though their website said to call or email to schedule a meeting from a phone that wasn't a payphone and being unable to access either due to the nature of the UnderGround, found himself at a standstill.

He takes a deep breath. Raising the water levels wouldn't help calm him down. The levy won't break from this. At the very least, there was a Reaper decal sticker on the door. He could get in.

He had almost been inclined to ask Kanon or Motoi to accompany him on his voyage out to the Gatto Nero, but the two had their own errands to attend to. No use asking someone to help steer him if they're too busy with their own crews. He isn't familiar enough with the other team to ask one of them. That's fine. Best to stick to the familiar waters. Besides, at the end of the week...

He takes in another deep breath and steps into the office building that served as the center of the Gatto Nero brand. This, on the other hand, is an uncharted expedition. When the door closes behind him, his anxiety dampens around him, and he almost finds himself unable to move. But, he has a personal thing to do, so he wades up to the reception desk, anyway.

There's a young girl with bright brown hair conversing with the receptionist, but she seems to be a worker. He can probably just kindly interrupt. He isn't the leader of his society for nothing.

"U-Um, excuse me," he starts. The two women both turn to him, customer service smiles plastered onto their faces. Either he's just misreading the signs, but the brown-haired one seems more genuine with it.

"Hi! Do you have an appointment scheduled?" The receptionist asks immediately, but with zero accusation or hostility in her voice.

"No, I w-was hoping I could venture in, anyways..." Fuya trails off. He had tried to schedule an appointment, but besides a payphone, communication into the RealGround from the UnderGround was impossible without any really smart contacts from the RG. Which no one has.

The receptionist gives a small frown that Fuya can only interpret as pity. "I'm really sorry, but you need to schedule an appointment online or over the phone."

Fuya bites his lip and tries not to take her frustrations out on her. "I-I tried, but my p-phone wasn't getting a sig- a signal. And my email k-keeps getting error pop-ups and I h-haven't been able to get it fixed."

He doesn't like lying. If they were here, Kanon would have just told the receptionist that she prefers to communicate in person and flirt her way through, which Fuya has neither the charisma nor confidence to pull off. Motoi would say that he wasn't lying, just stretching the truth.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his mine pin. He grips it in his hand and runs his fingers over the cool metal. The design has curvy waves on it, a reminder of the team he leads.

"It's fine! I have time right now!" The brown-haired girl suddenly says, glasses glinting in the light. Her voice is pitched up a few octaves, something Fuya recognizes in himself as anxiety. Why was she anxious all of a sudden? She hadn't been a few moments ago. Did he say something wrong? She only spoke up once he had grabbed his pin. And the thing that caused him anxiety is the Game. Was she perhaps... familiar with it? Is she a Reaper? She would have to be, Players don't have time to work while in the Game. Or... was she something else? Or maybe it's just a coincidence. Yeah, that had to be it. Calm down, Fuya. Not everything had to do with the Game.