Lukewarm Happenings? [Daichi]

Unlike Zavie's night prior, Ritsuko was still reeling from her own. Kano made a last-second decision to stiff her on payment and she wasn't over it yet. He'd promised her 20,000 yen but only given her a little over half that and chalked off the rest to drinks, food, and expense. Just to spite him she' stayed as long as she could and drank as much as humanly possible. At least that's how it started. The drinking out of spite gave way to drinking out of habit, and then the thoughts invaded. She kept drinking because she was worried about how she was going to pay for her room, and THEN on how she lamented picking up a shift at the alterations shop she subbed at. And then how she could only get a job with low education requirements and that acquiesced into her lack of childhood and what they did to her. She drank to forget, and it took a lot of shots to put that demon down.

As Ritsuko stumbled into the Heartfelt Bakery she hadn't even come down yet. The door chime rang loudly to her distracted ears and she listened. Ritsuko had been down this road before. Literally. Like, a few hours ago at the convenience store. Just pretend to be sober and everything would be okay, right? At worst they would think she's weird unless she did something stupid obvious, at best she'd come off as awkward. Nearly forgetting to not bring her cigarette in with her, Ritsuko killed it on her  size six boot before stepping inside. Now why was she here again? Oh yeah, had to feed the monkey on her back. When Ritz started drinking, she started getting hungry, and she'd graze on anything. She'd almost picked up some jerky from the store down the road a few blocks before she thought better of it. She was in Little Tokyo! TONS of places to get eats around here! Hopefully. Even more hopefully, they wouldn't realize that their patrons were blacking out. Then again, tourism. Such a thing was to be expected.

Ritsuko's disheveled self gave a small wave to the small boy at the counter, trying to act normal. The smile she gave him was the exact opposite, seeing as the young woman wasn't used to smiling at all. Looked like something in a human skin. A boy? Seriously? Like, how late do his pare- Oh. Right. It's not 4 A.M. anymore. Losing all semblance of time she neWver had in the first place, Ritz pretended to peruse the shop. In all reality, trying to stand up straight without wobbling was the real chore. It'd be a loooooooooong bus ride home without any bread to soak up the chu-hai in her stomach. Melon Bread! Melon Bread would do the trick! Not sweet enough to give her a headache, just filling enough to keep her from passing out on the bus ride home.

Wobbling slightly as she attempted to keep up her ruse to seem like the average, not-hammered person, Ritsuko glided her way to the counter with slow steps. The slower the better. She'd look around to make it seem like she wasn't completely lost where she was.
"Um, I'll take ssome Melon Bread, I guesss..." Ritz stammered. Damn, the slur was slightly obvious in her voice. Whatever. It shouldn't matter... but somehow, it did. Ritz didn't like most people, but this was a little kid. It wasn't her place to present to him the evils of the world.

She prickled at the high price. Five bucks, really? I could grab a #7 from the MorBurger ten minutes from my hotel and get change back! ...but the little one was right, it wasn't very expensive for Melon Bread. A gas station she frequented by her home stocked hot cross buns for $3.50, but those were smaller and were kinda processed. The bread before her did look pretty appetizing, crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside but not fake like the ones you'd find in a convenience store. Plus this was a Mom 'n Pop, tourist charge she'd bet, foreign foods... All things considered, she could be out $6.50. People would probably pay that, most threw their money around without knowing what it meant. Living from job to gig to job left Ritsuko with a better appreciation for what she spent on things.

Sighing with a  slight growl, Ritz reluctantly allowed her guitar case strap slip off her shoulder and reached into her pocket, rolling her eyes as she did so while lowering her instrument not-so-gently to the ground. It was a always a pain in the neck to spend money, especially after making less than expected. That kind of scratch was another day in the SMILE Inn, even if it wasn't a whole lot. Screw you, Kano. Cheap bastard. The slightly intoxicated women rubbed her face after fishing out the contents of her pockets, disappointed in her findings. Five dollars, a bus pass, a couple dimes, and all the yen she made from the night before. She was loathe to spend it, buuuuuuut it might be the best idea. Ritz had been here before. She knew if she didn't eat anything her hangover would be a whole lot worse and the ride home would be torture. She made the responsible decision for once and stayed hydrated as she drank like a fish, but curly fries weren't going to hold her for the trip home.

Sinking lower, careful not to tip over and through the counter display, Ritz rested her elbows on the countertop and propped her head up with her hands.
"That'sssss kinda pricey and I'm totally sstrapped for cashh," she slurred with a dreamy look, "Don't you have anything cheap? Like sstuff you're tryna get rid of? Week-old  manju or ssomething?" Her head began to lilt at an angle a bit, her rebellious hair spilling over the counter as it pleased. Drinking all night had really taken her energy and the soft, comfortable air of the bakery with its sweet smell and quiet murmur made her want to fall asleep right where she was. The young woman closed her eyes and took a deep, relaxed breath before continuing.
"mmm, do you take yen?" rasped Ritz in a far away voice.

Ritz slowly opened her eyes to the bad news, staring almost accusingly at the boy. Most places in Little Tokyo took yen as a cultural thing. Kind of a throwback really. Ritsuko could hardly speak the language but her Japanese heritage certainly had its perks. She preferred to play in Little Tokyo for a couple of reasons: she could look cultural and fit in a little easier, she didn't need to subject herself to a government watchlist to play some damn music, and no one batted an eye when she partook in the yen trade. Ritz preferred to get paid in yen whenever she could because the market was in her favor. Exchanging her currency at the bank, even with the trade toll on top, would easily net her a cool ten bucks or more for every hundred she put in. That was another another pack of cigarettes easy, or maybe a crap ton of Best Ramen if rent hurt too much that month.

"...nah. Thass alright," Ritz remarked sleepily, standing a little straighter off the counter. Wow, really? I thought all these places took yen. Either way, she wasn't about to take handouts from kids. As broke as she was the starving artist wasn't about to become a charity case. His heart was probably in the right place, but she was much too proud to let a middle-schooler pay for breakfast. Even rock bottom wasn't that low. Well, maybe meth. Five for three? That's... actually really good for pastries. Box of those mini-donettes didn't even come close. Running a lazy hand through her unruly mane Ritz made an attempt to smile at the blonde boy, which probably was a more subtle tug of the corners of her mouth than an actual smile.

"That actually ssoundss like a pretty good deal," she rasped, trying to force some pep into her voice, "I'll let you pick your favoritess, you probably know a hell of a lot better than I do. Nothing too ssweet? My sstomach's a 'lil upsset right now... You don't ssell anything to drink, do you?" Wow, what a nice kid. It was kinda nice being able to speak to someone on good terms for a change. Ritsuko still hated everyone, but it got lonely after a while, as much as she'd hate to admit. After a moment however, it seemed to strike her that she cursed in his presence. Watching her language... always a difficult task. She winced and shifted her gaze a little, choosing to change he subject only she mentally realized needed changing.
"What'ss a little kid doing up at a bakery thiss early anywayss? Sshouldn't you be in sschool?"

Ritsuko envied the boy a little. She was homeschooled too, in a way, but her education was a little more... horrifying. And focused on the wrong things. She'd only learned math up to percents and fractions, literature was practically nonexistent, so was science. She'd only been taught the what was deemed necessary by her captors, which was mostly law, history, sociology, and musical theory. She'd trade knowing how the outcome of the Battle of Hastings went for some insight on how to write a resume in a heartbeat. It was heartwarming and even a little sad... This was the childhood she could have had if Life had gone her way. But that wasn't about to change. The Road didn't turn that way anymore.

Ritsuko smiled a sweet, lopsided smile at the blonde boy.
"It'll be our little ssecret," she reassuringly slurred. Who was she about to tell anyway? Even if she brought it up Ritz doubted anyone would listen, no one ever did. Besides... free coffee wasn't necessarily a bad thing and she was already good at keeping her trap shut. She'd lazily lean to a side and dig through her pockets again, producing a handful of yen and her precious, worn $5 bill. At least she could grab something from the vending machines with two bucks. Wait. Tax. Shit. Ritsuko frowned at an invisible worry as she slid the well-loved cash across the counter to the kid. She'd turn her back to him, sweeping her lengthy dark hair over her shoulder to cascade down her front so it wouldn't drape over the counter and she could rest her elbows there. Ritz liked her boots, they were reliable and looked pretty damn bitchin', but they weren't doing her feet any favors after a night of drinking. It was a godsend to rest on her heels even for a moment.

Ritsuko sighed deeply. It'd been a while for her, having a friendly conversation, that is. She didn't have anything in common with Kiri-san or Chitose-sama at the dry cleaners, she often hated her neighbors and the ones she didn't mind left too quickly, and everyone else didn't want anything to do with her. A delinquent they called her, like it was so damn important to live up to an ideal. "You need to get some schooling", "You need to have a career", "You need to settle down and get an apartment already". Pssh, fuck off. If she'd wanted any of that she'd damn well go for it. Everyone else could stop riding her ass.
"Hazlenut ssoundss really good right now," she commented a little more seriously. Would probably pair will with coffee, too. She'd only hope it didn't upset her stomach too much. Barfing up Cafe Au Lait wasn't very appealing at the moment. She became distracted as her thoughts turned to coffee, specifically the milky Emperor Roast that came out of the localized vending machines. Is there some kind of secret to making coffee? she wondered, ...You just press the button and wait for the beep, right?

"Milk, pleasse," Ritsuko chimed. She frowned a little at the at the dark liquid. This was either going to wake her up and soothe her stomach or she was going to find herself kneeling before the porcelain throne in one of the restaurants a little ways down the street. Maaaaaaybe it'd be best to get something else in her stomach first. Plucking one of the darker colored cookies out of the box before her she would haphazardly dunk it into her coffee, dribbling a few drops of the hot drink down the sides of the teacup and onto the counter below. Not that she noticed. Ritsuko wasn't in the coherent frame of mind at the moment, and she retreated to her mind as she sloppily munched on her soggy macaroon. Mmmm... tasted slightly sweet and nutty with a hint of spice.

Honestly, she was a little surprised and a tiny bit impressed not by the coffee he made, but how he made it. Ritz had never had it the old fashioned way, tasted a bit stronger than what she was used to. In a good way of course. She was accustomed to pre-stamped coffee packets you threw in a machine and pressed a button and waited or the larger boilers where you filled the grounds in with the steamer in the back. Tasted like runny sludge either way. She couldn't imagine why people would pay $1.19 for a cup of that hot mess. Then again, she avoided the pricey cafes like the plague. Too much money for a mug of something that didn't get you fucked up. She could ill afford to pay for comfort outside of the bottom of a shot glass.

Ritz grew silent as she messily ate, a distant look on her face. All the contemplating about what she couldn't afford and then spending all that money on booze had chilled her mood and left her feeling depressed. She swayed slightly as she reached for another cookie to graze on. She closed her eyes for a moment to take it all in and center herself. The room twisted slightly and she could feel the numbing sensation tingling through her skin. Yep. This was all she had to look forward to today. Getting drunk and talking to the boy at the bakery. Someone snap a picture.

*Tink!*

"Hah...!" the inebriated woman gasped, snapping back to reality. As she'd absentmindedly reached her hand toward the tea cup she'd knocked it back a little too far, causing her to lurch toward it to save it. She'd gotten lucky this time; the loud sound she'd heard was the tea cup coming back down to its base, not completely knocking it over.
"U-um, wha...?" Ritz stalled. She'd hadn't been paying attention and missed the question the lovely blonde boy had asked. The only thing that had pulled her away from her more depressing thoughts was almost making a mess.
"O-oh, uuh..." she further continued to stall, slinking lower on the counter to grip her coffee with both hands. You're goin nowhere, slippery bastard. Shit, uuuuh...? Wait, she remembered he said 'Emperor' and 'Kami', so he was talking about Shinto? Maybe history lessons weren't such a bad thing after all. They at least made for interesting conversation. Ritz didn't buy into Shinto like a lot of others in Little Tokyo did, but she knew the customs and followed the superstitions.

"...mmm, you're thinking of Raijin," she'd finally answer, "Raijin'ss the kami of sstormss and thunder that he makess by beating hiss eight drumss. Oh, yeah! Gimme a minute..." Ritsuko looked down at her wrist. She'd thought so! The young woman planted her elbow onto the counter and raised her wrist toward the child. "Here!"


"That'ss called a magatama," Ritz instructed, showing off the jeweled bead on her charm bracelet, "It'ss hissymbol and he paintssit on hiss drumss. It meanss 'good luck and protection from evil'. I think iss pretty cool!" She gave a genuine smile to the boy as she showed off her charm, this time failing to realize that she had knocked her teacup over as the warm coffee soaked into her hair and sleeve.

"Wait wuh...!?" sputtered Ritsuko as shock overcame her face. What was this all of a sudden? Why was he freaking out!? Shit shit, something got broke didn't it? Fuck, this always happens! The slightly inebriated woman looked on in confusion and concern as the boy disappeared from view behind the counter. As soon as he was gone from view, she lurched up to assess whatever apparent damage she'd cause, in doing so causing her teacup to spin and dance across the counter. Somehow, through some stroke of luck, Ritsuko managed to catch it before it spiraled off the edge, pinning it between her wrist and the countertop, carefully grasping it with her other hand and keeping a hold of it. She'd stand perfectly straight as he rose with a towel, careful to keep her hands away from the counter again. Once bitten, twice shy, and she wasn't about to screw things up again.

Only when the blonde boy would place his towel on the counter and ask her if she was alright would she finally notice what'd happened. The piping hot coffee had covered the counter, and she found herself drenched in it. Well, mostly her hair, but her sleeve was pretty soaked too.
"Sshit...!" she hissed. It felt warm but was quickly cooling. Luckily her sleeves were thick enough not to be scalded by the searing brew. She was also sure it would hurt if she wasn't as drunk as she was. Ritsuko haphazardly patted at her arm and pawed at her hair, unsure of how she should react. Mostly she stood there stunned until she caught a look at the boy's concerned expression.
"Nah, I'll be alright. I'm tough!" she reassured with a smile that was more of a grimace, grasping her arm in the We Can Do It! pose. Way to jack that one up, Ritz. Can't have a normal, pleasant conversation, can you?

Ritz would take the towel the blonde youngster had laid upon the counter and begin mopping up the spill herself with a practice that spoke of doing so many times before.
"I'm real ssorry, I don't think I wass paying attention..." she mumbled. Moreover, Ritz was worried the boy's parents would walk in and discover her after the commotion she'd caused. While he was naive and forgiving somehow she doubted his parents would be thrilled to have someone like her dirtying up their pleasant shop.

At first the irresponsible adult gripped harder at the towel, but ultimately let go when she realized where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing. A pang of irritance rang sharply in the back of her mind before being masked by prescience. Ritsuko was so used to doing things herself, fixing her own problems, and relying and trusting only herself to follow through that it was a force of habit to refuse assistance at this point. But this boy... he only wanted to help. She could see that clearly, it just took a second for her heart to meet the pace.

Ritsuko swayed away from the counter, holding her soaking arm, standing awkwardly with a grimace of embarrassment on her face. His words were kind, but... Ritz didn't feel like being reminded of her weakness right now. Standing in this homely bakery, a drunken mess while a little boy cleans up her spills for her... Everyone cried. Even anyone who was "tough". Ritsuko wasn't tough enough to let anyone see that. She'd take the napkins gratefully and attempt to wring out her hair a little, getting nowhere fast. It didn't make that big of a difference. Neither did the coffee in the first place. Her hair was already messy and unruly, all the coffee did was mask the smell of liquor slightly. She'd wash when she arrived at her motel anyhow. Finding futility in that chore, Ritsuko would pointlessly dab at her sleeve instead.

The delinquent would laugh along with the boy, although hers was a little more empty and forlorn.
"Yeah, ovenss are pretty tricky. I sstill don't have the hang of them." Ritsuko would chuckle another forlorn, weary chuckle and hope the boy didn't pick up on it. She never would get the hang of it, either. Motels didn't stock their rooms with so much as a countertop stove, let alone a full-range oven. Mug Ramen was getting to be such a pain in the ass...

Sensing another impending downward spiral, the drunk woman felt it best to leave on good terms. She couldn't stay here for long, as much as she wanted to. Jobs didn't work themselves, rent didn't feel any sympathy. Ritz grinned weakly at the boy, whether he was looking or not. It gave her a foreign sort of hope and a sense of despair at the same time. She'd found someone who didn't judge her immediately and it just so happened to be a little kid that didn't know any better. Still, the time she spent here was a nice respite, certainly brightened her day. Hell, remembering this moment would probably get her to the end of it. He was just so wonderfully polite, she wanted to thank him for his gentle demeanor somehow.

Fishing into her pockets once more, Ritz wrapped her fingers around a small, round object. She would hold the somewhat-blurry prize in front of her face for a moment, determining if this was what she wanted to give. It was. 5 yen, close to a nickel in US dollars. But it was much more than that, so more significant.
"...here, kid," she spoke softly, sliding the yen piece across the still-damp counter toward the boy with two fingers. The golden-brass coin with the rice stalk and kanji shone dimly in the morning light.
"...that'ss a go-en," Ritz spoke, "It's five yen, but they're really hard to find. A go-en iss given ass a gift ssometimess. It meanss "good luck" and "I'm honored" at the ssame time." Ritz knew what it really stood for, but she didn't feel strong enough to share. The go-en established a new connection, one that the giver hoped to be prosperous and friendly. Ritz hoped that it would mean that she could come back here sometime, to escape life for twenty minutes in this warm bakery. To make the world stop for a moment so she could be happy, even for a little bit.