#greed 01

    It had only been a day since his arrival, and there wasn’t a second where Osomatsu thought, Oh, this seems like the kind of place I could get used to. Not at all. A day and a half of bus rides and walks to nowhere in particular, he’d decided that even though this wasn’t his home, and frankly it never would be. The only thing he could do is try to find the similarities to his Akatsuka ward, like a park or pachinko parlor or a fishing pond or...

    a bar.

    Yeah, that sounded good.

    So he quietly shuffles in and orders a beer; they don’t have the kind he likes, of course. He leans on the bar and waits til the bartender-- tall and angular and muscular-- goes through the motions, handing him the bottle and asking for the standard 500 stardust. Wait, stardust? what happened to yen? Osomatsu blinks dumbly, barely able to produce a word for a solid thirty seconds. He didn’t even have a wallet with him. 

Ayato was relieved when he heard of Buckanan street. No, it wasn’t impossible to find clients at other places, but a bustling street of people looking for things like his artwork really helped the search. He was grateful for it, having a stand was much less annoying than any other process. Getting commissions wasn’t that easy without people knowing you. 

Well, he’d work up recognition one way or another. He sighed. Sitting on the side of a street with hundreds of other stands wasn’t the most exciting way to start up, but it was what it was. Everyone starts somewhere. At least he was better than when he did start out.