"Nah, not at all!" the male stammered as his feet clicked against the ground, the diligent stature that demanded itself to be so prominent against the other male. Jimmy wasn’t sure what to expect with this, but the gun that was slung around his own arm was most likely wait gained the latter’s attention. A cheeky smile rose across the corners of his lips that stretched to form into such. "Names Jimmy - .. you are..?"
Jimmy. Right. Saito tilts his head to take in the details of the gun between the man's fingers, but then he decides not to ask any brash questions. He reminds himself--if he does anything wrong, he could very well be shot, as amicable as this man seems to be currently. And when you're shot in reality, you don't come back.
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"Ryuichi," he answers, giving his first name and clearing his throat. "... I'll assume you have a very eccentric hobby, Mr. Jimmy."






