pslplz | Ship-testing catchall

Unnecessary it might be, but the lack of providing a given name-- whether you were ready to be called by it or not-- felt rather closed-off, even conceited, after he'd opened with a full name. It didn't bother him, per se, but he was an observant sort who paid attention to such details. That went double when he was first meeting someone. You could learn a lot about a stranger in the first few minutes.

The apparent eagerness to get the waiter spoke, too. Possibly Mizuki was simply starving. Also possibly, he was the always-in-a-hurry type who wanted the ordering out of the way so he could check it off the to-do list. Or possibly he just wanted this affair over as quickly as it could be. Hak could sympathize in a way, if that were the case. Ouka could be quite the strong-arm.

"That's fine," he said, the lazy smile never leaving his face. There was something about Mizuki's aura, he was still trying to pin down what it was...

"...very well," Mizuki said, eying that lazy smile curiously. He had a feeling that he was being sized up. Perhaps that was only natural, given that this was a date. And a blind one, at that. He wondered how that assessment was going, behind his date's deceptive smile. Mizuki was definitely a very analytical person, but one of his faults (in his opinion) was his inability to bring a cool objectivity to his love life. Maybe if he could parse out his relationships with the same strategic calculations with which he approached everything else in his life, he wouldn't have such ~~heartbreak~~ disappointments in his past.

He waved the waiter over, who set down a menu tablet for them to peruse.

Mizuki sat back to observe the man as well, taking a brief sip from his cappuccino to mask his expression. The guy was new to the city, according to Ouka. Apparently he had a half-brother that he was crashing with, while working security at a club downtown. But there wasn't much else to go by, and Mizuki always hated being low on data.

"Our mutual friend selected this place, as you may know. I can assure you that the food here should be excellent."

Moving to a new city was always something of an adventure. You could usually count the number of people you'd know on one hand, you had no idea where anything was, and of course the headaches of finding permanent housing and employment. Hak had reached that awkward in-between stage where he still wasn't familiar, but knew just enough that most people expected him to be.

It was interesting, then, that Mizuki seemed informed enough to know he hadn't been to the café before. Had he pumped Ouka for some details? That was a bit clever. Hak liked it; he could appreciate the quality of wanting to be informed-- of making a point to be. He might even be a little impressed. His smile shifted to one of interest.

"That's good to hear. Have you had it yourself?"

Of course Mizuki would try to be as informed about his date as possible. He wasn't about to waste his precious time (and okay, maybe some degree of anticipation) on a complete unknown. Ouka might have a trustworthy palate, but it would take more than the promise of a good meal to drag Mizuki out to a blind date.

"No, but she and I have similar tastes," he said, in a confident tone that made it obvious that it meant that said tastes could be trusted to be sophisticated indeed.

Mizuki seemed pretty confident about the food for someone who'd never eaten it before. Maybe it was a positive quality to have such faith in a friend's tastes and maybe it was a dangerous one to be so trusting. Well, tonight would certainly be an adventure on more fronts than one.

"Do you? What're you gonna order?" Would it be expensive or cheap? Healthy or comfort food? Something simple or something most people wouldn't be able to pronounce? From the way he dressed and spoke, Hak got the impression Mizuki was on the snobbish side. That might not bode so well, as Hak himself was something of a ruffian. He had no interest in the stiff arrogance and classism that was so prevalent among the rich and powerful.

"I haven't decided yet," Mizuki said with an elegant wave of his hand, swiping across the screen to peruse the menu. He had a feeling Hak was a meat and potatoes sort of fellow, but he might be surprised. Mizuki himself was conscious of his figure and made sure to eat a variety of things that would keep it in top condition.

He might look somewhat frail, but he did used to play tennis back in boarding school.

"So? What brought you Tokyo? I understand you have moved here relatively recently."

Mizuki did know some information from Ouka, but it was always more informative to hear from the source directly.

Fair enough response, if Mizuki hadn't eaten here before and only just picked up the menu. Hak swiped across the options to browse for himself, marking a couple of possibilities for comparison later. He might even order two entrees; café meals tended to be lighter than most restaurants, and Hak could pack away quite a lot in a single sitting. It wasn't uncommon for him to eat two to three times' that of his companions. Hey, it took a lot of energy to fuel all that muscle.

At Mizuki's question, he waved his hand flippantly, not even lifting his eyes from the menu.

"Ahh, the area I came from had too many ugly people," he answered. It was a brazen untruth, and one he made no effort to disguise as anything else. He wasn't interested in deception, after all. The real reason was simply a little too personal for someone he'd only known two minutes.

Of course, knowing him ten years wouldn't necessarily have changed his reply. Sometimes, it just wasn't comfortable or cool to admit sappy things like wanting to be closer to your kid brother.

"What about you?" He asked, only then glancing up. "Lived here long?"

Clearly, the man didn't want Mizuki to know the real reason. This was quite obvious from that ridiculous answer and his inability to meet Mizuki's eyes when he said it. Well, at least Hak wasn't the sort of guy who flat-out lied to his face. That would have been somewhat annoying. Mizuki only snorted in response, deciding not to inquire further if the man didn't feel like sharing.

"I came up through boarding school in the city, and have stayed on ever since," he said. What he left out was that he actually was born and raised in a small farming village in Yamagata. Not that he was ashamed of his humble roots, but it did contradict a little with his somewhat glamorous (he thought) persona now.

"Boarding school." Hak repeated, his eyebrows raising with interest. "That's unusual. What was that like? Sounds pretty stuffy." And sheltered. Like the kind of thing Mamoru might have done, had the option been available to him. It wasn't bad, just very different from what Hak had known, relocating at least once every two years, often yanked from school to school in the middle of the year and having to confront the realities of war with an intimacy most kids never had. Hak pictured it as an experience that was safe and predictable, stable, with chess clubs and study halls, a 24/7 cafeteria. Enviable in a way, though he didn't think he'd have fit in there.

Fussy though he may be sometimes, Mizuki was a very social type of person who enjoyed being around people. The closeness and constancy of a boarding school was well suited for someone like him, who thrived on the energy of those around him. (Of course, this also meant he got lonely easily, but he wouldn't admit to such, if asked).

He snorted softly.

"Stuffy? Well, I suppose there were rules, as well there should be. How else do you imagine a school full of live-in teenagers would function?"

A brief smile warmed his face as he remembered those days. Antics there were many (not really of his doing, except inadvertently), but somehow everyone he cared about graduated and were doing rather well for themselves now.

"Er, not that I was a troublemaker, or anything. I enjoyed my time there. When you live and study with the same people for so many years, you form bonds that stay with you long after." He tilted his head with amusement at Hak. "I gather your schooling was the less stuffy sort."

Yeah, you probably did. Hak hadn't thought of it like that before, but it wasn't so different in concept from the source of his own unusually strong bonds: going through an extended trial together. Boarding school was pretty prestigious, and probably came with classes, teachers and course loads that were more brutal than the typical school experience.

"I don't remember any of my schools. There were too many of them to keep track. My dad served in the military; we relocated all the time. Don't worry: I got into enough trouble for both of us."

And if the grin on his face was any indication, he wasn't a bit sorry, either.

From the wily grin on Hak's face, he probably thought himself rather clever. Mizuki had a feeling this one was a troublemaker. (Possibly a heartbreaker too, but he didn't allow himself to think that far ahead yet).

He got a strange thrill from that though, if only because Mizuki was quite the opposite of that. There's some merit to the saying that bad boys have all the fun.

"And do you still find yourself in trouble these days?" he ventured curiously.

Whether he was clever or not wasn't Hak's concern. He was simply being himself: honest, self-assured, and disinterested in pleasing authorities.

"Only the kind I want to be in." Usually. Hak didn't go out of his way to be in trouble, per se, but he couldn't deny he still got into some forms of it: brawls, gambling, generally trolling the hell out of people. Sometimes the law might squint at him. All the same, he was pretty good at staying on its good side. Jail was no fun, after all.

"I don't have a criminal record if that's your worry."

"I'm not worried," Mizuki said quickly. Because why would he be, right? This was just a first date, and there was no guarantee that they'd ever see each other again. It shouldn't matter one way or the other.

But maybe it would matter, if Mizuki did want to pursue ... something. This was absurd. It was blind date, and these things never amounted to anything.

"But good, you shouldn't be getting records. It could hinder a lot of things you might want to do in life."

Mizuki's answer seemed to amuse Hak; he snorted and grinned.

"Your concern is touching."

It was a fair point if Mizuki meant as a consequence of losing your freedom. Hak didn't think he'd ever be the sort of guy in a career path where a criminal record was a big black mark. Finance? Compound disinterest. Law? Objection, Your Honor. Schoolteacher? 'Ugh' to the infinity power. He was actually pretty happy in the kind of work he had now. It didn't pay all that much, but it was enough to cover expenses and have a little left over for fun. And it was easy, a combination of his two favorite things in the world: relaxing and kicking people's asses.

He took a final look at the menu options and dismissed it. "I'm ready when you are."

Concern? Mizuki arched his eyebrows with amusement but didn't exactly deny it either. He nodded and swiped his hand over the call panel for their waiter to come by. One thing he did appreciate about establishments such as these was that they still employed the human touch. Half of the restaurants in town were completely mechanized, which in Mizuki's mind, defeated the purpose of a dining experience.

"Go right ahead," he said generously to Hak. You may order first.

Hak took the cue and looked to the waiter.

"I want the grilled salmon and the overstuffed steak and cheese sub, fries on the side for both and the house beer to drink." Probably only with the steak, but he didn't want just water the whole meal.

Salmon AND steak sub? Mizuki can't help but stare for a moment as he watches Hak order a meal enough for two. He supposes that someone with that sort of musculature would need a lot of calories...

"And for you?" the waiter turns to him smilingly.

"Er. I would like the cornish hen with the vichyssoise. And the house-made grapefruit juice, please."

The waiter takes down the order and leaves, setting down a plate of warm bread and salted rosemary butter to share.

"So, what sort of trouble do you like to be in?" He has a feeling Hak parried that question earlier.

Hak helps himself to a piece of that bread, spreading a carelessly sliced slab of butter over the top and taking a big bite and it's really quite difficult to not lean back in his chair and put his feet on the table. That would be so much more comfortable. But this isn't home, and he might be irreverent but he's not that rude. He chews his bite of bread thoughtfully as a stall while thinking over that question. What kind of trouble did he like to be in?

It's a bit of a misrepresentation, and one he's entirely responsible for. He can take this chance to clarify what he really means is that he believes in being himself more than he believes in climbing the social ladder.

"I'm not the kind of person who dresses up what I think to be pleasing to the ear. People who are used to being brown-nosed don't like me very long. And the kinds of people who are used to being brown-nosed are the people that enjoy elevated power. Couple that with all the hobbies of your typical rogue and you've got me in a package." Drinking, brawling, gambling, the occasional fling, and good long naps. That was the life. It was his life, and he was happy with it that way.

"I guess you'd be a model of high citizenship?" Mizuki certainly looked the part, and sounded as though he had the background best-suited for rubbing shoulders with those people in power. That would be interesting, if possibly catastrophic... the two of them together in Mizuki's social circles.

It's a good thing Hak doesn't throw his feet on the table. Mizuki would be horrified. Feet on the dining table, where you put your food!

But regardless of Hak's inner thoughts about unsanitary relaxation, at least what comes out of his mouth is interesting. Mizuki tilts his head thoughtfully as he listens. Mizuki might be prim and proper, but he takes a lot pride in his work. It would annoy him exceedingly to be overlooked because he hasn't kissed up to the right people. He works hard to get where he is.

"I don't know about that," he says as he twists a lock of hair between his fingers. "I tell people what to do for a living. I could hardly get anything done if I had to handhold everyone all day."

He pauses for a moment.

"What sort of hobbies do typical rogues have...?"

"Oh yeah? What do you do?" Had he just put his foot in his mouth? Oh well. Hak meant what he said, and if Mizuki was in such a position as to take the statement personally, it was probably well enough they found out as much early.

On the other hand, the answer didn't necessarily mean anything. There were plenty of people that gave orders who weren't upper class babies. Supervisory roles were necessary in nearly every social ecosystem, from the military to companies to families. Hak has to admit, though, Mizuki's fancy tastes in clothes and food and the boarding school background make him wonder more than he otherwise might.

"I'm a film director," he says, straightening up a little. Mizuki is proud of what he's accomplished, after all. It's not easy to make it in this business. Being at the helm of a movie is a lot of responsibility. And he likes the control he has over the artistic vision. He has the talent to make all the moving parts work together, too.

"So you see, making people listen comes with the job."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Film director, huh? Artsy. That could be a pretty prestigious job, if you were good and got lucky enough to make a blockbuster or win an Oscar.

"Do you have fun with it?" The job, he means.

"Oh."

Well, okay.

And what an odd question, he thinks. Though perhaps it's trickier than he first suspects. The practical side of him would say 'fun' is irrelevant. And yet at the same time, he finds it hard to apply himself so deeply to something he wouldn't find fulfilling somehow.

"I suppose I do," he says thoughtfully. "It's very meticulous work. And yet, you do get a great degree of freedom to shape the outcome. It's very satisfying in that regard."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble."

By which Hak means 'effort.' Way more than he was interested in exerting, anyway. Too much planning and examining details. It was funny that Mizuki thought of the work as coming with freedom. His description, though in reference to a different aspect, still sounds to Hak like it's the very opposite of the word.

Ship-testing catchall

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