As he meandered through the sparsely populated streets of the Old Residence District, Clear wasâŠ.shall we say, pleasantly nervous. The kind of nervous that came with an edge of excitement to it. And could anyone blame him? This would be the first time he paid visit to Mizukiâs pride and joy establishment, the Black Needle.
    Heâs heard things from his friends, that the place is a casual haven for all of the tattoo artistâs closes associates, andâwell, Clearâs never been to a bar before! He doesnât know what theyâre like inside or out, what kind of people will be there, if there will be anyone there when he arrivesâŠ
    But what left him so excited, so anxious, was that Mizuki was willing to allow Clear into his personal space. Yes, theyâve spoken on numerous occasions on all thingsâthe weather, various shopkeepers, the fall of Toue and Platinum Jail, Midorijima as a wholeâbut this was like visiting someoneâs home for the first time. Clear had to mind his manners, lest he act out of turn and force Mizuki to resend his invitation.
    Finally, the android came to a stop in front of an ornate door, above which a sign read âBlack Needle.â He made it; he actually made it. Clear steeled himself with a deep breath and a reassuring nod, and pushed his way inside.
    âHello?â he called into the empty entryway. âHelloo~! Mizuki-san? Are you here?â
It was a good thing that Mizuki hadnât fallen to the temptation of picking up the pencil lying by his hand on the counter in that one minute or so that heâd waited. If he wasnât careful, even that short a mount of time could be long enough to get absorbed almost completely into his work, and there was a possibility that he might have barely even noticed the greeting. Luckily, heâd busied himself instead by double checking his inventory just to be sure that heâd be ready for when the night really got going, and that was a task that he was easily distracted from when it wasnât exactly necessary.
âIs that you, Clear?â he called out as if there would be anyone else coming to look for him right now. His receptionist would have just walked right in and settled himself in, and customers normally didnât greet him before they even saw him. The tattooist stepped carefully around the bar and out into the open area where he would be more visible.
Without even the music on yet, the Black Needle was quiet enough that he could actually hear his own footsteps as he approached the voice, which he found notable even in those few seconds it took to cross the room. âYouâre a little early,â he greeted with a smile. âI guess that means you made it here pretty easily.â
