Operation: Freshy

Chapter 04: Introductions

#04: Introductions...

He didn't think he would be done with the job so quickly.

One of the heirs, or Cardor Florence to be exact, his 'job giver' as he liked to call him, had taken the time from his oh so busy schedule to give him a task that included locating two missing students he had yet seen in personal. The two displayed promise to their department based on their graphs, but since the school year began last week, they have yet to show their faces.

Now, based on information he'd gathered from one of Cardor's older siblings, he found out that one of their favorite hangouts, when not in school and home, is a small, decrepit diner for the vicious and juvenile.

He didn't ask for directions on where the place was to be found because the rebel knew quite well on where to find it. It was, after all, his past favorite diner when he was starting out as a delinquent himself.

The ride to Carousal only lasted a good ten to fifteen minutes, and he made sure to park his ride at the farthest corner of the lot. Its surrounding houses looked ready to fall apart at any moment, and the people he drove pass didn't look any more welcoming. Hell, everyone he passed either had muscles, tattoos, or piercings. Every single one of them didn't like him, and he was more than happy enough to return the feeling.

As he got his keys off the ignition, he could already hear the shouts and hoots of agony and indignation. Well, the place sure hasn't changed since he stopped coming there. A brawl was expected to happen every other week, but rarely ever during Sundays. Oh well, it has been six years since his last visit. Maybe things changed a bit.

He shoved his hands in his leather jacket's pockets, his dark shades propped up his nose and his strides long as he made his way to the front door. He didn't bother opening it ceremoniously and tried his luck out to grab attention by kicking the door clean off its hinges.

Sakri heard a thud followed by a groan before he titled his head to the side to dodge a passing a bowl of sundae. He made a 'tsk' sound at the waist of food before studying his surroundings. It seemed that not many really went for the 'look away from opponent to look at who came in' scenario, and all seemed merry enough to go on their joyous roughhousing.

He entered the diner as though he had no care in the world, walking through the chaos as though out on a midnight stroll, occasionally dodging or sidestepping those who come hurling at him or pass him, and stopped when he saw a foot peering out from under a table.

He looked around again, before kneeling down and raising the table cloth above his head and giving the waiter a blank stare.

The waiter yelped as though he stole the living daylights out of him.

"Hey, you." Sakri said in his usual tone, which he knew was quite intimidating to those who weren't acquainted with him. "Seen a kid with red hair and tanned skin around here?"

The waiter nodded vehemently before pointing at the top of his hiding place.

Sakri cocked a brow before realizing that it was actually a long table the waiter was hiding at. He stood, letting go of the cloth and obscuring the view of the waiter as he did so, and peered over the furniture. Across the table top and sitting on it by the wall was the guy he was looking for. And he found himself actually annoyed by the fact that the freshman also sported a mohawk like his. The difference was that while Sakri's style was faux a tad, the kid actually had it pointed like spikes. Only Sakri believed that no one could ever really bring intimidation better than him, he still found that slight irritation over other people having the same style as his, however way it was that they may be different.