#shrapnelsong

"Mm, y'need somethin'?"

Connor's smoke break is interrupted as he looks over at the woman who seems to be trying to get his attention. The night air is cooling, and he can hear the dull sound of the music from inside of the bar.

"I'd offer for ya t'come in, but this is th'back area of th'bar. Employees only."

With recent happenings, Satoru has been more and more overwhelmed with stress. And while he typically did well to hide the fact, those who know him well could still see the signs.

So, at around 2:00AM, he got out from bed (frankly, he was still on his phone anyway) and snuck into the kitchen. He quickly gathered all sorts of ingredients and worked his magic. He was practically a natural at making the dough. But being so mentally and physically drained, he ended up making... perhaps a little too much. Soon enough, he found himself with about 80 MINI BREAD ROLLS taking up the entirety of the counter.

⟬ @shrapnelsong / s.c ⟭

"what's your favorite sandwich?" :)

Kazuya knew plenty of eyes were watching his every move. Even after he signed into new contract, the scouts that had observed him through his high school career soon turned to sports media, angling to interview him while he settled in. Thankfully, his agent was well aware of his lack of desire to enter that kind of spotlight and fielded the majority. Given that it was his first year as the new promising catcher on, arguably, the best team in the NPB, he managed to slip away from most of the publicity. But as time went on, he wouldn't be able to keep getting away with it, especially if he strived to be the team's main catcher sooner than later.

It brought him back to a conversation that seemed ages ago now. They both knew that he couldn't focus solely on baseball for the rest of his life. He wasn't disillusioned by the idea of any press that could show up at his door. However, if anyone were curious enough to dig into his life past the sport, he'd hardly make it easy for them. In the privacy of the elevator bringing him up to his residence, he chuckled.

The doors slid open and he adjusted his grip on the large paper bag in his arm, digging into his pocket for the keys with the other. He was only somewhat aware of its contents, light in weight and concealed in its box. Though he could make a fairly educated guess as to what it was. While the staff that had called in had sounded odd in an attempt to keep the package a secret, they couldn't withhold the name of the sender—especially if they wanted Kazuya to come down and pick it up. When he heard 'Sakurazuka', he made his decision.

"She really can't resist her favorite holiday." Though he hadn't heard much from her since graduation. Which was to be expected when every one of them had their own life to lead. Their grand tales together with Seido had reached its end, and holding onto sentimentality over the opportunities provided to them wasn't too realistic in the long run.

With the package carefully deposited on the nearest table, he finally lifted the lid to reveal the sweets she undoubtedly made by hand, her short letter sitting neatly on top. A soft smile curved his lips at the sight of his old title, popping the plastic tin to bite into one of the bars. With the taste of blueberries stuck to the roof of his mouth, he sought his old phone, hidden away in a drawer by his bedside. His management insisted that he should upgrade to receive their texts and files much easier and reliably. With the money that came from his contract, he saw no reason to refuse—well, beyond his own preferences, but he's heard enough of their mild complaints.

The flip phone was out of service, but he was still able to access his email to view his contacts, taking a few minutes to type out her email address from one phone to the other. Then, he wrote the address to his apartment along with his reply.

upon meeting the group who would be staying with them,   it did little to calm his nerves.    he would deny that it had anything to do with the fact that these exchange students came from an all - girls school,   as opposed to their own which was lacking in the fairer sex.   how to handle such a situation was beyond him.    in theory,   it was easy to treat a woman fairly  —  he was  suited  to be a knight.   his worry was not in the fact that he was unsure of how to be  polite   or  how to respect space,   but that he was  suspicious  of anyone who was unfamiliar that would spend time around their young master.   most would  claim  that malleus could handle himself,   and he could agree;   though,   that was beyond his worry.   regardless of  strength,    someone like their housewarden should not  need  to raise a hand to defend himself,   otherwise  his own retainers would be a laughing stock.  

always awake  bright  &  early,   he took none of his habits in life lightly.   a pristine appearance was important to upholding a  good  name for their dorm,   as was orderly behavior.   waiting in the lounge,   he knew  she  would have to come this way to leave for her classes.   on guard by the stairs,  he stood a  bit  too patiently for her arrival.  once he saw a small head of  blonde hair  pass by him,  only then did he raise his voice.   ❝   HUMAN.   ❞    for the hour,   his tone was far too energetic.   sebek had been introduced to her  by  name the day before,   but it would be nothing short of a miracle if she was able to get him to call her as such.   ❝   for today,   i will be accompanying you.   ❞    his eyes  mere  slits,   where  slim pupils  bore into her.  once his mind was  set  to something,  it was quite difficult to convince him of otherwise.   if he could closely monitor her,   for just the expanse of the day,   then  maybe  he could get a better read on her character  —  only then could he decide whether or not she was someone  safe  to roam their dorm in the night.