2026-03-20: Right or Wrong
- Log: 2026-03-20 Right or Wrong
- Cast: Ren Amamiya, Shiryuu Ryouhara
- Where: Triple Seven, Central Street, Shibuya, Tokyo
- OOC Date: March 22, 2026
- IC Date: Friday, October 12, 2012
- Summary: Shiryuu comes to Triple Seven in search of Umie while Ren is working a shift there and Umie is not. Ren is not accommodating to her weird ninja stalker.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
Ren hadn't planned on coming in for a shift at any of their many part-time jobs right now; it's midterms next week and there are precious few days left to dedicate to studying. However, they'd gotten a call from the Triple Seven manager saying they're slammed this afternoon and could they please come in and they'll get a bonus for a busy shift? It's hard to say no to that kind of offer, so Ren agreed and came by.
It's nearing the end of that Friday afternoon shift; it's already gotten dark out. It was indeed super busy--mostly students stocking up on snacks and taking coffee to-go for last-minute cram sessions, one supposes. The store is a bit of a wreck in their wake--shelves empty, dirty footprints everywhere, and so on. They think Umie's coming in later for a night shift? They're not sure.
For now, it's time to start cleaning up. They're not alone this shift, at least, so they'll be able to keep an eye on the register in case someone else comes in. With those bright pink and teal uniforms, there's no mistaking them for anything but workers, at least, so any straggling customers won't be lost. After a brief discussion with their co-worker, they start mopping the floors while their co-worker restocks the shelves.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Ryouhara seldom visits convenience stores outside of the Dark Hour.
The boy, as he may appear to be at a glance, is not actually wearing the long haori of his station when he steps into the Triple Seven. Even so, he still all but swims in his clothing, a large overbuilt dingy white jacket proof against the autumnal chill, left unbuckled (?) and open only to reveal more layers -- dense grey wool, a sweater to the top of his neck, along with some sort of harness just barely visible against his shoulderblades.
Most importantly, there is a long folded red bag behind him at his hip, hung vertically at the shallowest of angles. It is almost assuredly a sword, based on the curve and shape of it -- but it is tastefully bound in a single black cord.
He has a long, relaxed stride, one that cuts neatly along the lines of pride as he steps on fresh Nikes into the store -- and is immediately assailed by the disarray that can only be caused by a busy afternoon.
Eyes of two different shades of brown -- trademark, as the boy is doing absolutely nothing to conceal them, nor that haphazard, barely-minded grey mop of hair on his head -- lift, as the boy looks, with a mien of politely embattled neutrality about the store. Hands, brely peeking out of his sleeves -- reflexively go into his pockets.
If he had a cognoscible expression, it'd certainly be an uneasy frown.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
At least the mess is in an active state of being cleaned up?
Ren glances up from mopping when they hear the chime at the door. The customer who just walked in seems... ... ...unusual, to say the least. Still, Harajuku is not that far from here. Their initial assumption is that this is one of those out-there fashion styles that Tokyo is known for and/or a cosplayer.
That is, assuming that sword is a prop and not real. Hard to tell, with it being inside a bag. Even if it is 'real,' it could be a shinai or bokken.
As he strides in, then stops at the mess, Ren pauses in their mopping to bow to this new customer. "Welcome to Triple Seven. Please take your time in browsing as we clean up after rush, and watch your step."
They haven't yet put up a sign warning about wet floors, having wanted to get the main pathway clean first--but they should, if there's immediately more customers coming in. Ren pauses in mopping to do that; as soon as the yellow warning sign is set up near the door, they return to cleaning the floors.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
He seems to be investigating the place. A retail worker, depending on how long they've worked, may realize the behavior immediately -- someone who's not actually shopping sticks out like a sore thumb, and no matter how much such a person looks over the cool case full of egg sando it doesn't really change that fact.
But it doesn't seem like he's attempting to steal anything. He's more interested in the building itself. He's looking up and around, moving only just enough to be out of the way and at least have the basic appearance of being a customer. A tiny sound -- a little electronic warble of breakbeat -- emanates openly from his person the closer he's approached -- headphones, trapped somewhere between the high fold of his jacket's hood and the sheer density of his turtleneck.
To his merit, he does recognize Ren's hospitality. With a few off-tempo blinks as he commits Ren's face to memory. the grey-haired boy returns the polite bow with a long, low incline of his head in reply. With his hands stuffed so far into his pockets, the red bag at his back shifts visibly with even that much motion.
"Thank you for your diligence," he starts, strangely. "But... I was actually looking for--"
*squeek* The floors are wet. And his shoes are very, very clean, the Nike x masterminds whimpering along the slick floor audibly. The sound is enough to stop the boy in his tracks. He makes a face, before continuing.
"....I'm looking for someone," he continues, much more simply.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
Ren has a lot of part-time jobs besides this one. Though they've only been part-timing around here for a few months, they do enough of it to be able to recognize the behavior of a customer vs. a... window shopper? No, not even that, Ren realizes as they watch the boy out of the corner of their eye while setting up the WET FLOOR warning sign. He seems less interested in the goods and more in the... structure?
They're thanked for their diligence. Sure, okay. It's better than not being thanked. They glance down at the boy's extremely clean shoes as they squeak, then back up at his face as he grimaces.
"Who?" they prompt. It's not good customer service to give such a terse answer, but 'I'm looking for someone' feels a little shady in a convenience store like this, and Ren doesn't want to give anything away in case this guy is here to stalk one of their co-workers.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
His hands do not leave his pockets. Despite his silhouette, Shiryuu does not appear to be very aggressive at the moment, painfully hyperaware of every unintended sound he makes, from the squeak of his shoes to the tiny glissando of the expensive jade pendants he wears on either ear.
In that vein, the sounds his sneakers make -- they are either brand new or kept in exceeding condition -- seems to rightfully drag on his attention. He doesn't miss when Ren looks down at them, taking their quick glance in every way but the way it was linely intended.
A long, dark sigh. "....they're the latest technology," he explains, as if it explained anything.
After the moment, the shortest response earns Ren a quiet, thoughtful look, the boy's eyebrows lowering. Each word is picked in the most intentional way. "...ah.. according to my information," Ryouhara thinks aloud, "'Akabane Umie' should be here today."
A moment's thought.
"I'm looking for her," he repeats, as if repeating the fact was the only reasonable, polite way to end the sentence.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
Ren is reassured that the sneakers are the latest technology.
"Cool," they reply, having no idea what that's supposed to mean, as they continue to mop.
Overall, the boy projects quite an eclectic vibe. That's not a bad thing, necessarily. The jade earrings in particular are nice. But the fact that he's asking for Umie, 'according to his information'...
Ren takes the effort to not glance at the sword bag on the boy's back. He'd noticed their casual glance at his sneakers, after all. It's fully possible that this is a coworker from one of Umie's own other part-time jobs, like a cosplay cafe or something like that. It's also possible that this is an agent of the NWO. Ren would hope that one wouldn't just brazenly walk into the Triple Seven in broad... well, it's not daylight anymore... but Kurou did, so there's no safely assuming anything.
"Sorry. Your information's wrong," Ren replies, tone apologetic. It's true enough; she isn't here now, even if she might or might not be here later. "But if you want, I'll take down a message for you." They set the mop aside and grab a pen and pad of paper from behind the register. They look Shiryuu in the mismatched eyes with a polite lack of expression, hands poised to write. "Who should I write was looking for her?"
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
He seems a little offput, in the pacing of that response. Ryouhara would likely bristle at being considered eclectic, no matter how apropos. There is a very particular style and method to the Ryouhara, and absent the withered caste once considered the very top of the clan, his fashion is considered immaculate.
So long as Kiria is not within earshot. Her opinion does not count.
The heavy, distant sound going across his headphones ambles to a brief stop as the rhythm trickles over a cliff. The boy doesn't move, his careful expression never rising or falling in the face of that humble reply. For a moment, the onmitsu is blank-eyed, as if retrieving some thought from the far distance to now. The quiet second lingers long enough to be awkward.
...and then the beat resurges again.
"No it isn't," the boy replies calmly, with a brief, single blink.
There is no confidence in his tone, just a simple matter of fact. No aggression shows in the way he says it and the only show he gives is the lowering of a single eyelid; his left, the lighter of the two shades, closer to honey than russet. Half-lid twitches, very lightly, as if a suppressed reflex.
The impulse is repressed. Replaced, as he gives them a closer look. And this time they are being inspected.
"Ano... if it isn't too much trouble. Could you check and see when she is in today?" He finally slides a hand out of his pocket, the hand opening.
"I'll gladly write my name for you. Everyone--" *SQUEEK*
NOW Shiryuu frowns. He can't seem to move across a freshly mopped floor without making to what his ears assume to be the loudest sound in Shibuya.
"....nobody will get the kanji right." Grr.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
One can be immaculate and eclectic at the same time. Ren's friend group is a bunch of delightful weirdos, so they'd know. But they don't have a reason to remark on the boy's fashion sense aloud, so neither of them will know for sure how Shiryuu would react.
Ren watches Shiryuu stare at them as the sound peters off from his headphones. The moment does linger long enough to be awkward--or maybe hilarious to an onlooker, seeing both of them fail to outwardly emote.
Until the boy blinks--winks? twitches?--to the sound of the beat. Ren, for their part, maintains their poker face as they see the boy inspect them more closely with those slightly off-color eyes. However calm he might be, they begin to despair the odds that this is just an ordinary weirdo from one of Umie's other jobs.
"You're certain your information's right, but you don't already know when her shift is?" they wonder. "If she was here today, she could've already clocked out. It's pretty late right now." If it isn't too much trouble... Ren shrugs. "Sorry, I'm just a regular part-timer. I don't handle the timesheets."
Which is true. That doesn't mean there isn't a schedule showing when everyone's shift is in the back. Ren conveniently leaves that part out; it's not like they had time to check it today.
However, when the boy offers to write his own name down, Ren gives him a thoughtful look, then hands over the pen and pad of paper. "My shift is over soon, but I'll leave the note with the manager for you."
They pause when Shiryuu once again squeaks his shoe on the floor, though. Concern touches the corners of their dark eyes. "Please be careful where you step. It would be terrible if you fell and hurt yourself," they caution him with nothing but well-meant intent.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
It starts as the slightest sharpening of his expression.
"Yes," he confirms for Ren in a tone that would be approaching sanguine, were it not smoothed out by the complete absence of a smile from the boy. Uncertainty is not something the grey-haired boy seems to do. "My information is above reproach."
He doesn't explain any further.
But. "...iiih..."
With that mildly discomfited sound, the boy looks to the side, his right eye (the darker one) saccade-skipping from the dry goods to the medicine. The sound is both annoyed and resigned at once.
"Not likely. It would have been cruel," he thinks aloud, of the possibly she may have already punched out. "She is ... not a morning person."
A tiny little crash out can be heard hovering somewhere in his voice behind his words as he looks away. 'always difficult.. problem .. not even here TO ..' are the only words even a trained ear can make in his sotto voce.
It is at vicious odds with the fondness earlier.
The boy lifts a sole of his shoe to the hem of his pants, drying off the sole with some annoyance. One after the other, leaving but the lightest shadow of dirt on the rolled cuffs. A tiny sacrifice, as the boy finally looks back to Ren. They're inspected very closely.
"...as opposed to an irregular?" he thinks. It's not really a question, as he puts his name down. Shi...ryuu... Ryou...
A flash of the boy's patience breaking can be seen when they suggest he might hurt himself. "Perish the thought... 'part timer'-san."
He holds up the notepad, offering it to Ren. Ugh-- it's uncomfortably close, the way he holds it. "My.."
It's in freefall. "....apologies."
The first impression of 'Shiryuu Ryouhara' is: In any context, he is ridiculously fast.
The shihaisha is already in the process of marching right past Ren to the back. He is also apparently not willing to accept 'I don't know' from a part timer. Why are his shoes not squeaking anymore??
Hopefully a co-worker will stop him before he gets into a tussle with anything. It _really_ won't matter if the door is locked or not.
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
The gray-haired boy seems to be growing annoyed with them.
Ren isn't sad about that. He's not a customer, and he's acting shady.
"I'd reproach it for giving you no idea when she'd be in," they reply, tone and expression bland. That's an interesting reaction he makes, though; he might be certain about his information, but the way he talks about Umie not being a morning person implies a closeness beyond either a co-worker or a mere stalker--especially when he starts muttering under his breath about her. Ren can barely make any of it out, but they can make out just enough to understand that this is apparently a complicated relationship.
Which makes them start to suspect who this must be.
"The needs of the schedule can be cruel sometimes," they say deadpan as Shiryuu dries off his shoes on his pants. A weird decision, in their opinion; the shoes themselves are so clean...
He holds out the notepad far too close, and drops it before Ren can accept it. They had a vibe like he might do something spiteful--they genuinely were worried about him slipping and falling, too--and so they catch it out of the air. However, the instant their attention is off of him, he's marching around him towards the back. Ren shoots their head up towards him, then down at the notepad.
...Funny. Umie said she only got this name after scores of effort. Maybe they misunderstood.
"You know, Akabane-san will be very mad at you if you get her fired," they call to his back without trying to chase after him. "Barging into an employees-only area demanding to know when she'll be in is sure to at least get her reprimanded."
They pick up the mop, dip it into the bucket, and resume cleaning the floors. The co-worker(s) in other parts of the store are staring at this point; one of them might rush over to protest at Shiryuu if he does attack the door, but right now Ren's demeanor is so relaxed they haven't gotten to that point. (This is of course the point. Ren knows that Shiryuu is dangerous--very dangerous. The best way to keep things from escalating, in their view, is to act as though they have no idea.)
"In any case, if you're certain she's going to be in today and that she didn't have an earlier shift, and you apparently don't have her number to ask her directly, then you may as well hang around and wait for her to show up," they add as they clean. "Since you didn't double-check the time before you came, I assume you don't have anything better to do anyway."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
It may be realized in due time that most of what Shiryuu does is premeditated. While it would be easy to chalk it up to a vindictive or rowdy nature, blocking Ren's eyesight with the notepad was intentional in a different angle. It's not even the only preparation he made.
The only thing he doesn't seem to plan for is being blackmailed.
It's obvious isn't it? The well-dressed boy with the grey hair stops short at the door, hand at his hip where his tool is. It would only take a few seconds to discern and defeat the locking mechanism, upon which he'll find the schedule and take it by force. If someone gets in his way, he'll just tie them up. If it's in a computer, he'll take the computer. Enough of this --
.... but then he did say WHO he was looking for first, didn't he? And when that leaves a plausible trail ...
Shiryuu's face changes, out of view. Lips press together a moment, forcing, splitting into a thin knife-sharp smile.
".... oh. Right," he forces himself to say.
"we wouldn't want that girl to be ... reprimanded by ..."
He says 'that girl' with deep, unabiding frustration. Shiryuu's internal desire to blow the entire building down can be heard in the subtext, no matter how calm he sounds. Is that tinny little soundtrack even more aggressive sounding?
Shiryuu, awkwardly, never gets around to finishing his thought. Instead, it's replaced by a sigh, sword-long and suffering.
Instead of producing lockpicks, a knife, or retaining wire, the boy instead shoves a hand into his hairline, pushing every strand of grey out of his eyes. It's effective for exactly twelve seconds, and more illustrates how his hair even gets messy to start with.
As prior stated: _sigh._
"You know, you're a real cruel person, too..."
His hands slide back into pockets. Shiryuu shoots a manufactured, cavalier look to one of the coworkers. "It's fine, I suppose," the boy reasons to himself, in barely sheathed displeasure. "I won't take up that kind of time."
He turns on his heel to go. His smile is gone, replaced with a thin, wan expression. He doesn't really say too much else as he steps past Ren. Except..
"...hey, part-timer kid."
He only looks back slightly, as Ren still casually mops. On the back of his jacket is that weird symbol -- three leaves in the storm.
"...You should burn that note," he recommends.
"Don't tell Akabane I was here... or I'll come back and tie you to the smoothie machine. Upside down."
<Pose Tracker> Ren Amamiya has posed.
In fairness, it's not meant to be blackmail. Ren is just stating facts--warning Shiryuu what the consequences of his actions will be if he goes through with them.
Shiryuu might be the crafty sort with a plan for nearly all contingencies, but to Ren, it feels like he's out of touch with the everyday world.
...Which, you know, makes sense for some kind of (self-proclaimed?) ninja overlord.
Whatever's going on through his head, though, it's clear that the mention of Umie and how she'd be negatively impacted is enough--at least for right now--to stay his hand. Which is good, considering the violence implicit in his growl and sigh. Or maybe that's just the soundtrack making it sound that way...
As Shiryuu pushes his hair back, Ren continues on with their job. They do glance back at him, eyebrows raised, when he calls them cruel, then decides to leave rather than wait. Hmm. Well, as long as he doesn't cause any mayhem, that's fine... Ren's content to let him have the last word and finish up their shift.
Except...
Don't tell Akabane I was here...
"..."
It's almost a comical threat. If Ren hadn't seen with their own eyes what he'd done to Tsubasa, they might even laugh. As it stands, it's seriously un-funny.
"Okay. I won't tell her you were here," they say deadpan instead.
They might, however, recommend she review the security cameras at some point during her shift, or ask about if she knows of any anime characters with a three-leaf-in-a-storm emblem on the back of their coat. They'll certainly keep that note for their own reference.