Arakita was impatient. He was pissed and anxious not being able to ride. Not to mention, he had gotten stuck living in some shitty underground place that was like a damn maze. No fresh air, there, no sir. Not like the air was anything better above ground, but it was definitely something from the musty underground dorm he shared with people who were even more annoying than the sleeping beauty of his former high school. It all made him restless, and that’s exactly why he wanted to go out.
Honestly, he was kind of glad he could run into someone he’d known. Well - kind of - someone that he’d gotten mixed up with in the past because of their similar looks, height, etc. Not that it was that big of a deal - Arakita just pushed off stuff like that. He never understood it, though, if he was being honest. He was all angles and too much teeth and had bark and bite equally large vs the other teen who was full of method, strong, an equal match for Fukutomi. Maybe that’s why he’d reached out and asked him to come bike shopping with him after their initial meeting in the city. He’d respected him knowing how he could ride, that he stayed on his bike until the end of the inter high despite his frame cracking.
The teen didn’t fully understand it, himself. Instead, he just went with it while his antsyness got the better of him. He’d jacked the neighbor’s computer when they had left for the day, sneaking on it to search for the nearest bike shop and found two that sold road racers within the city. One was obviously closer, hence him picking it. Arakita’d found a way to relay the message, setting up a time to meet with the other teen. They could only look, after all, but looking and (maybe) test riding was better than not being able to bike at all.
And that’s what lead him to where he currently was, dressed casual in a pair of fitted jeans and a tshirt, jacket pulled around him to shield him from the breeze that was blowing through the city streets as he leaned against the wall outside of the bike shop they’d agreed to meet at. The assist didn’t really have any means to tell time, so here he was (naturally) early as all get out because the last thing he needed was to leave a worse impression than he’d already had in the past (probably). Being on time was engrained into him from practice at Hakogaku, though, admittedly.
He just let out a slow exhale, lips parting to talk to himself.
“Jeez.. I hope they have a Bianchi like mine in there.. assholes takin it away and stuff,” he murmured under his breath, hands delving deeper into his pockets as he waited patiently.
