Snippet #2473449

{♜} -- It had been a rather slow day, compared to the other days. It was on particular days like these that gave the young bar owner a sense of foreboding of a surprise that life was about to spring at him. Surprises that weren't necessarily that of the good kind. And it was when the group of people that had strode in through shaded doors was his premonition proved correct as ever. It took him almost no effort to identify the newcomers as members of the Yakuza, the mere thought of the single word enough to send anger boiling through his veins once more. However, anger was quickly smoothed away with that of a neutral yet professional smile that didn't reach his eyes as Nijimura greeted his customers in silence, the only thing giving away his emotions the hand that was gripping the glass cup he was polishing in his hands with more force than required.

Fingers worked deftly at every given order, and in times that there were no one to serve, he busied himself with the polishing of already sparkling clean glasses. All to distract himself of the impending rage that boiled within him. However, the thought of the single feminine face that kept returning to him disturbed the young bar owner -- it seemed awfully familiar, yet not at the same time.

The next of her returns did nothing to solve the perplexity that was gnawing at him, his stares starting to linger longer with every time she came back to him with a new order. He had not intended to question her identity despite his curiosity -- work ethics, he told himself before allowing her to leave once more. However this time, she did not.

"Really." He spoke in a disinterested tone, setting yet another polished glass on the counter. "So many have said under the influence of alcohol, Miss."