![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spider and puppy attempt dating: take 1
Despite its proximity to Akihabara, Sakamichi's only really been to Shinjuku a couple of times, always the direct result of a store promotion that meant he had to go out of his way for a special piece of merchandise. He's certainly never been with the intent of meeting someone and - going on a date there. He'd ridden his bike into Tokyo, as per usual, his thoughts about looking nice (as Naruko had advised) put aside, also as per usual, by his savings account.
He had, however, tried to look nice. Jeans, the nicer ones that didn't have scuffed hems from being too long on him in middle school, and a shirt that was actually ironed, though it's just a plain, light blue short-sleeved button down, the kind he wears when his mom wants to go out for dinner and a hoodie or t-shirt won't do. His hair is, as always, a mess, even though he'd tried to get it to lie flat for twenty minutes before he left.
His attention right now flicks nearly continuously between his phone, cupped in his hands across his lap, and up at the crowd of people moving out of the station, looking for long green hair. He's so nervous he's a little surprised his heart isn't audible to the old woman sitting at his elbow, but maybe it's because her hearing's bad. They'd agreed on two o'clock, but Onoda had arrived early. Really early. Nearly forty-five minutes early - the result of impatience rather than nervousness.
He'd hoped that having free time before Makishima arrived would help him calm down, but he feels even more jittery than before. He really, really hopes this goes well.
He had, however, tried to look nice. Jeans, the nicer ones that didn't have scuffed hems from being too long on him in middle school, and a shirt that was actually ironed, though it's just a plain, light blue short-sleeved button down, the kind he wears when his mom wants to go out for dinner and a hoodie or t-shirt won't do. His hair is, as always, a mess, even though he'd tried to get it to lie flat for twenty minutes before he left.
His attention right now flicks nearly continuously between his phone, cupped in his hands across his lap, and up at the crowd of people moving out of the station, looking for long green hair. He's so nervous he's a little surprised his heart isn't audible to the old woman sitting at his elbow, but maybe it's because her hearing's bad. They'd agreed on two o'clock, but Onoda had arrived early. Really early. Nearly forty-five minutes early - the result of impatience rather than nervousness.
He'd hoped that having free time before Makishima arrived would help him calm down, but he feels even more jittery than before. He really, really hopes this goes well.