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[twiststheblade]

Miho, back of a booth, with a shamisen, provided by Bar in answer to a request for something to keep her entertained. She's currently tuning it to her voice, singing soft nonsense just for the sound. Eventually, she might play. Pehaps.

Comments

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

There is a perfectly normal young man, a boy really, relaxing in a booth nearby, watching her with a steady gaze.

Perfectly normal, except for the funny robes he's wearing, and the very large sword, wrapped in cloth, that is leaning casually against his chest, and of course the bloody bandages that are wrapped tightly around his chest and shoulders, evident due to the upper part of his Shinigami robes being open. He's not dying anymore, but it's a bit hard to tell.

He recognizes the instrument, vaguely, though he's never seen one up close. It's a bit surprising, considering how ordinary it is, especially compared to all the crazy shit that Ichigo sees happening all around him. And her voice, though quiet, is pretty nice as well.

[twiststheblade]

Her voice is nothing special, really, but it'll do. Her pitch is good, at any rate, which is what matters.

She finishes tuning the shamisen and looks up, nodding politely.

"Hello."

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

He nods as well, but doesn't speak. His brow furrows as he tries to see if there is anything odd or different about her instrument compared to the few he'd seen back home, but it seems normal enough. That in itself is quite odd.

"Hey," comes the reply, "You know how to play that thing?"

[twiststheblade]

It's a pretty standard shamisen, really, although a fairly nice one.

"Yeah, I can play. Haven't in a while, but I used to be quite good."

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

He nods again, remaining silent for a moment as he sizes her up.

"You speak Japanese at all?" He has to ask, if only to see if it's safe or not to introduce himself.

[twiststheblade]

"It was my first language," she smiles. "Why?"

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

"Aw, crap." He sighs, rolling his eyes. "Name's Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo can basically mean 'one who protects' which was why his father chose it. What the other kids at school delighted in was the fact that Ichigo also means 'strawberry'. Add a mop of bright orange hair that makes you stick out like a sore thumb, and you've got all sorts of childhood cruelty waiting to happen. Well, it already happened, but it's still used for a laugh now and then, to Ichigo's annoyance.

[twiststheblade]

Miho smiles. "You have my sympathy, then. I'm Miho."

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

"Nice to meet you, Miho. At least you're above a bunch of idiotic name games." The kids in his class are fifteen and still find it hilarious. And then Ichigo punches somebody in the mouth and things get a lot less hilarious. And the cycle repeats itself every day.

[twiststheblade]

Well, Miho's nineteen, and never had time for any kind of silliness like that anyway.

"People are stupid," she points out.

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

"I take offense to that," he replies with a hint of a smile, "Even if it's true."

It really, really is. He can think of several good examples of this.

[twiststheblade]

"Well," with a laugh. "Most people, at any rate."

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, no kidding. Say, hypothetical question. Is conducting an attack on Heaven considered stupid?"

Hypothetically. No, really. Don't give me that look

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

"Aw. That's cute, but you really don't need to serenade me."

Goldy stands at the booth end, smiling. She has coffee and a little black case, about an inch deep and no more than six inches on the longest side.

[twiststheblade]

"I haven't tuned it for serenading," she laughs. "Unless you wanted me to sing about how sad I am that you're dead, or something."

She plays a quick snatch of music, not more than a few seconds, that is recognisably sad.

"See?"

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

She leans her head over. "I do."

"How about some Clapton instead?"

[twiststheblade]

"On this!" Miho laughs.

"I don't think that would work. I could manage him on the piano, I guess. . ."

She does give a few twists to the tuning pegs, plucks the strings, gives one another twist, and strums again.

"There you go, at least I could serenade you now."

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

"Uh huh. For all the good it would do you."

She grins and stretches down the booth with one knee on the seat. There's a kiss at the end of it. And then she repairs to the other side of the table and places the cup and case down.

[twiststheblade]

"Oh, you mean you wouldn't melt with sentimetality if I did?"

Miho laughs, and idly plays the first few notes of what is actually a fairly well-known love song, before grinning and putting the shamisen down on the seat next to her.

"Hello, you."

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

"Hi."

She seems quite chipper and kind of glowing... for her. Today's variety of coffee condimentation consists of creamer only.

"Um. Hot Lips and I owe you one pint of Bacio flavored gelato," she confesses as she preps the cup. The statment is remarkably guiltless, actually.

[twiststheblade]

Miho simply raises one eyebrow.

"The whole pint? Indeed."

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

"Mmmm. Sorry."

"I'll be back in Rome soon for Will's bachelorette bash, so I'll resupply you then."

[twiststheblade]

"Oh, you're so contrite," she teases. "I can see the guilt from here."

[3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com]

"Bull shit," she chuckles. "If I felt guilty I would have already replaced the ice cream and not even told you about it."

[twiststheblade]

That gets an amused snort.

"You are such a brat, you know that?"