Description: Lessons are learned. Don't rely on just one source for supplies need to repair an heirloom. Don't let your pets play around with access to your credit card. And if a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
The wooden building set into a side alley where the finest shinais in all of Japan can be found is closed. Not permanently, thankfully, but the hand-written sign in the window suggested not to wait up for a few months and that a new store location might be decided on later.
This being a close neighborhood, it only takes a little asking around to get the story. The old man who runs the place is on vacation because of the surprising amount of money that suddenly flooded into his bank account upon the purchase of not only his entire stock but also the store itself.
It was a lot of money.
And an online transaction. Of course, this is a close neighborhood, and someone knows that the back door to the shop tends to stick so that if you lean on it the right way it sort of pops open and oh look there's the transaction records right there on a table along with a billing address. Doesn't hurt to glance at it while checking to make sure the shop is okay.
It's an apartment and building number, one located on a street in the business district. Only the wealthy and those who want to appear wealthy live there. It's the sort of building with a lobby that you have to talk to guard and be buzzed in to the appropriate floor.
Hayato Nekketsu is going to have to have words with the owner of the shop once he manages to track him down. He's been a customer for a long time, and found the place to be the best for getting the parts he needs to keep his shinai in tip top shape. And between fighting with his peers and keeping his students in line, Hayato puts a lot of wear and tear on his weapon. Not being able to get quality parts is not a good thing.
Having discovered just what has happened through methods that were entirely legal and do not need to be gone into here, Hayato makes his way to the address. Surely the person who bought all these shinais will have an understanding of just how important a weapon it is, and be willing to let Hayato at least buy a few for parts for now. And he can deal with talking to the shopowner later. Assuming he can even get past the doorman. "Hi, I'd like to speak to the person in this apartment." He shows the man the information he copied down off the billing records.
Though Howard Arena is close by, making this area of town popular with fighters, they're not the kind of fighters that might break into a place just to steal stuff. Usually. Less than in Metro City, at least. Still, the guy behind the desk is a bulky fellow with a frown carved into his face and a bandana around his forehead. He makes people feel safe. He couldn't hack it in the high level fighting circuits.
Bandana-guard grunts, checking his clipboard first and then looking at Hayato's offered apartment information. He grunts again, tapping his clipboard which probably means Hayato doesn't have an appointment and then follows up by gesturing toward an intercom system near the door.
Buzzing the apartment in question gets a perky young woman's voice speaking very quickly in French. After a pause, the woman begins speaking considerably slower in Japanese, with a notable accent.
"Ah, hello? Who is calling for Shermie?"
Hayato doesn't appear at all intimidated by the large man behind the desk, but then he's not here to hurt anybody or cause any damage, so what should he have to fear? He briefly narrows his eyes when it appears that the guard may be deciding that this is too much trouble to deal with, then brightens up again when he's directed to the intercom. "Thanks!"
The teacher reaches over and pushes the button, waiting until he hears the response. A woman who's into kendo? Hey, hey, not bad... Hayato grins to himself for a moment, then shakes his head. He's still got to get a foot in the door, and making sure his shinai is taken of should be his top priority. "Hi, the name's Hayato Nekketsu. I've heard that you recently bought up a big shipment of shinais, and I was hoping to talk to you about it, maybe buy some off of you."
"Shinais? What are these... um."
The intercom clicks off. When it comes back on, there is a faint sound of pages flipping in the background. "...oh, those things. I did not buy any such of those things. Are you sure you are talking to the correct-- un moment s'il vous plait."
The intercom doesn't shut off this time, allowing Hayato to hear a door opening, and a bunch of heavy things being shuffled around and dropped onto wooden floors and the woman berating people in an irritated voice.
"Ah, you should come upstairs I suppose. Dress nice."
The elevator dings obligingly.
Dress nice, huh? Well, Hayato's red track suit is rather fetching, if he does say so himself. He does pauses to straighten it out as best he can, though, and make sure there aren't any tears or stains that he hadn't noticed. That having been taken care of, he steps into the elevator and waits for the ride up, hitting the button for the floor indicated by the address.
The teacher hums to himself, idly reaching back to adjust the harness for his shinai. Luckily he didn't wait to go looking for parts until he was actually in /need/ of them. But he's running pretty low on supplies, and when you're the kind of guy who will attack a /tank/ with a bamboo sword, that sword is going to need some repairs from time to time.
The building is very modern and probably featured in some sort of architectural digest that most of the residents just heard about and thought 'yes, I am living in a place that shows I have good taste.'
The elevator stops on one of the penthouse floors, which understandably takes quite awhile to get up to. It opens to a small lobby facing double doors. There are several boxes stacked in the corner, completely ruining the look of the place, each of them with familiar looking shinai sticking out from their open tops.
The double doors swing open, a redhead stalking out in eclectic loungewear that's probably very fashionable and expensive if Hayato kept up with modern trends or cared about that compared to Shermie being that one famous pop singer girl with the pin-up posters.
"You, you ordered these things? They do not belong to me. I have no use for sticks."
Architecture, that Hayato doesn't know too much about. Pin-up posters, though, now those he's familiar with. CYS isn't really his kind of music, but who cares about the music? "Hey, aren't you in a band?" Then he pauses for a moment and actually listens to what she had to say, and tries to make eye-contac- uh... anyway.
"They aren't yours? Someone bought them and them shipped here, but it wasn't me." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It's the entire stock from a store, so I don't think anybody would order it by mistake. Is there a name on them?"
Shermie pauses, staring off into space. Maybe. Her hair's in her eyes. She is dynamically designed to ditch eye contact as a method of human decency and sincerity.
"I think..."
THREE NIGHTS AGO AFTER A CASE A WINE LIKE SHERMIE IS MARIO BATALLI OR SOMETHING
The Frenchwoman kisses one of her pet hamsters, Fillette. "Aww, does little Fillette like the computer screen? It is a very pretty light, yes? Type, Fillette, type something!"
Shermie proceeds to fall out of her chair shrieking with laughter as her hamster rolls around on the keyboard.
RIGHT NOW AFTER ONLY ONE BOTTLE OF WINE BECAUSE IT'S ONLY SEVEN PM
Shermie leans down to inspect the delivery tag, which is addressed to a Ms. Hulgjgker. "Fillette, you naughty thing," she hisses under her breath in French.
The redhead turns around and stands back up, smiling brightly. "I suppose I do own all these things. You want them for..." she gestures absently at the shinai that Hayato is already carrying. "Practice? Or fashion? I will sell them to you. I do not want them in my apartment. Here is the bill."
When she hands it over it is like way more than a person realistically carries in easily liquidated cash on a teacher's salary.
"Practice. I need parts for repairs." Hayato reads down the bill. Then reads it over again. Then another time. That's a lot of zeroes. He coughs, then looks back to Shermie. "Uh... perhaps I could just take a few of these off your hands? I don't actually need /all/ of them, either." He'd have some difficulty keeping all the boxes in his apartment, too. Which is a nice place, but definitely smaller than this.
There'd also be the issue of getting them all out of here. If Shermie expects him to pay for them on the spot, she'd probably expect him to immediately cart them all away, too. Actually, that's a challenge that Hayato would probably find invigorating. If he could afford it.
"What would I do with all of this sporting equipment?" Shermie says, pouting as only an unreasonably and morally unjustifiably wealthy 21 year old can. She crosses her arms. "It is all or nothing; I do not know who I would sell these to anyway."
After a few defiant moments, the Frenchwoman seems to ease up, tilting her head and taking a step that leaves her standing right next to Hayato. "Though, I am not without mercy," she says. "I suppose I could give you a discount for a favor."
Hayato watches as Shermie steps closer, trying to keep looking at least more or less where the top half of her face probably is. "What kind of favor?" Giggity. But seriously, Hayato manages to ask that question in a perfectly suitable and not at all creepy tone of voice. We'll leave his thoughts alone, though. Just take comfort in the fact that he really does care about his shinai, it being an heirloom from his father.
Shermie turns and sharply walks away back into her apartment, snapping her fingers and speaking quickly over her shoulder. "You will attend a fashion expo taking place on a luxury mini-cruise liner. It will take place over the next three days, during which you will be contractually obligated to not wear a shirt and probably strut around in," the Frenchwoman turns around, putting a hand on her chin and looking Hayato over before gesturing vaguely, "eh, I don't know, probably something skimpy so I can show that bitch Jessica Shu that she is a little tramp unworthy of my time."
"You will also drink heavily and not embarrass yourself when you do so because Shermie enjoys partying and if you cannot hack it then I will be very annoyed. In return, I will waive the usual fee associated with the aforementioned sporting equipment and we both go home very happy."
The Frenchwoman goes back to smiling brightly and using her chirpy cute voice. "You like cruises and swimsuits, right?"
Hayato opens his mouth, then closes it. Then thinks for a moment. Has he perhaps died and gone to heaven? Surely there's a catch of some sort... but honestly, Shermie's offer sounds worth a pretty big catch. Besides, Hayato has participated extensively in every sport Taiyo has to offer, and that include the swim team. He has no problem with marching around in a small bathing suit. And free drinks? (Well, that wasn't actually specified, but Hayato assumes that is the case.) Not embarrassing himself, well, he'll deal with that when he comes to it.
Having taken all of a moment to think about it, a big grin lights up Hayato's face. "I think you've got yourself a deal!" Oh, yeah... he'll still need to figure out someplace to actually store all the shinais. Eh, there'll be some corner at the school he can stick them in until he needs them!
"Good!" Shermie says.
The next few days are probably emotionally draining. Hayato is not here as a partner but as hired help. Shermie is a woman who knows what she wants.
THIS HAPPENED
Hayato, after having spent an hour in a chair getting his hair styled, is guided through the crowd artfully by the Frenchwoman draped on his arm. She is fully dressed and he is still stinging from the full body wax so he could fit into his cruise uniform.
An Asian woman in tall boots with a slight Midwestern accent approaches. "Shermie, darling, I would have killed myself if you didn't come."
"I feel perfectly the same," Shermie gushes, the two kissing each other on their cheeks and then parting. "Did you hear that scheming bitch?" she hisses into Hayato's ear. "And what about you? Chin up! Lead with your hips! You must strut!"
AND THEN
"Hayato isn't just a clotheshorse of mine," Shermie says, "he is an expert fighter of high caliber. He just doesn't take interest in the pedestrian circuits, you know." She downs another shot, clinging to Hayato's shoulder. The trio of big angry men accompanying them at their table along with their dates are sizing him up.
Shermie offers: "The dear was just mentioning how he could drink every man on this ship under the table! He's so adorable, not much into fashion-- thinks it's not manly."
She leans over and cuddles up to Hayato again, whispering in his ear, "Don't you love bar fights? Be sure to order a round for the house after you beat them all up, say it loudly so everyone can hear."
AND THEN
Shermie kicks in the door to Hayato's room, breaking it off its hinges. "Who's Shermie's little cabana boy? Take off your pants and put on this blindfold." She twirls a pair of handcuffs around one of her fingers.
OVER SIXTY HOURS OF MANDATORY FREE SHOTS AND SHERMIE DEMANDING HAYATO LEAD WITH HIS HIPS LATER
"That was just the best," Shermie coos, leaning out of the taxi in front of Taiyo. "Three days of relaxing! I hope you enjoyed it too. Taa!"
The cab drives off, leaving a dozen boxes of shinai on the sidewalk.
Hayato staggers out of the cab, and wobbles for a moment. He's not entirely sure, but he might still be legally drunk at this point. He looks down at his hand, wondering how he got what appears to be the imprint of someone's tooth next to his knuckles. Then between a combination of booze and exhaustion, he collapses on top of the boxes.
A short while later one of the school groundskeepers, who is quite familiar with Hayato, comes by and loads the boxes and teacher unceremoniously onto a cart, then dumps them off in Hayato's office.
Log created on 19:05:33 03/02/2011 by Hayato, and last modified on 18:30:41 03/12/2011.