『 trippin' 』
Perhaps space had become a privilege to him. For back in his hometown, everybody feared his trademark brooding face and knew at that point it was time to cross the street and get out of the way, regardless of oncoming traffic. But here, in the gritty depths of Kairos, nobody knew him and his violent reputations. And while anonymity was certainly what he had wanted (he had practically spent all of his savings to rent a poor excuse of a flat), he was finally coming to terms that he couldn't have both anonymity and space. Figured.
Shizuo was even surprised at his own tolerance of having been jabbed in the ribs twice, and armed in the elbow at least five times. But, as luck would have had it, the next unfortunate bump managed to break his tolerance and he used his elbow to shove the poor stranger not only away from him, but to the gum-ridden curb below.
"Watch where the hell you're g--" His taunt, however, was muffled by a flurry of papers, some of which landed on his head and shoulders. When the brief downpour of leaflets subsided, it revealed the sight of a scrawny blond with face headfirst.
He looked dead.
"...Oy." His figure loomed over the other, the heap of papers still strewn across the sidewalk while passerby tramped over the printed pieces. "You're alive, right...?" He couldn't afford another false arrest, especially when he took all that time just move here.
