s @grinningscissors @the-baccano-fandom
He should just be a tourist, standing in front of a bus stop map with a scrap of paper, looking back and forth as he tried to decipher where he was versus where he had to go, and his clothes seemed common enough. A plain collared shirt and plain brown slacks, nothing about this man really said anything was out of the ordinary, until one noticed that he used a pair of scissors to trace the roads. Finally, he gave up, deciding to ask the crowds passing by "Excuuuuuuse me, could soooomeone help me?
Erika heard the man's call almost immediately; his voice and accent stuck out in the general noise of the station. Though she waited for someone else to answer it became almost immediately clear that she was the only one with any interest at all of taking him up on his plea.
Much like it always was. She, the self-proclaimed Best Tour guide in Ikebukuro. Erika had her own schedule to keep but as her own train was running late she could find a few minutes to point someone in the right direction.
“Hello?” she asked, approaching his right side and clasping her hands behind her back, “If your face doesn't spell out 'I'm lost' then I don't know what other sort of face it could be. Did you come all the way here, not even knowing where you were?”
