#pxncilpushxr

[scowlistics-remade-blog]

&& -- pxncilpushxr

☾ He could swear she kept looking at him. Every time he tossed a glance in her direction, her head was turned towards him. Like he was a monster or something. Maybe he had something on his face. A moment of touching it like an idiot would prove that to be false, though. 

With a huff and mean-ish look gracing his features, Tatsuo spoke: “Stop looking at me. ”  ☽

[tricxcle]

pxncilpushxr

It’s Ada’s idea: to study Japanese and for him to teach her.

Truthfully, she thought it would take more convincing, more bargaining, but he quietly accepts, the same carefully indifferent expression on his face. Instead of a resting bitch face, the kid has a resting dead fish face — it’s a little unnerving.

For the most part, it’s a mutually beneficial exchange; after he gets off from cram school on Wednesdays, they meet up at a nearby fast food joint. She brings the study materials, he brings — well, himself and a strong mental fortitude. She buys him fries that go stale within fifteen minutes, he criticizes her pronunciation and enunciation — all for free! See? Mutual.

When Makoto corrects her, she looks up from her Japanese for Tourists handbook, decidedly nonplussed.

“Obviously. I pretty much said that I wanted to go to the restroom and steal all the toilet paper in reply to” — she lowers the pitch of her voice to sound more masculine — “what would you like to order, ma'am?”

Shutting the book with a clap sounding of finality, Ada reclines in her seat, sipping from a drink that is mostly just melted ice and lukewarm root beer.

“Isn’t there something useful you can teach me? Like what to say after inadvertently insulting, I don’t know, the Prime Minister of Japan.”

     “This is useful--and we already went over how to say sorry.” If she had a reason to meet with the prime minister, he’d eat his pants. Even if she met with him in an offical capacity, he’d more than likely have a translator anyway. Despite the note on which their first encounter ended, when Makoto found himself running into her again two days later, the conversation was marginally more normal. She was having issues with a vendor--he played translator and before he knew it, he was agreeing to these weekly ‘tutoring’ sessions.

     These days he was getting through his English homework faster and faster--the conversational skills he was picking up from her as he tried to help her grasp his mother tongue was a much larger incentive than the fries--not that he didn’t at least a few before they went stale. Not to mention it was a good way to test his own mastery of Japanese by actually figuring out how to convery the rules of the language in another language.

     “You’re gonna use these phrases more often than an apology to the Prime Minister. So, do you want to try again?”

[beautifulliexpainfultruth-blog]

🔬 pxncilpushxr

“The medical examiner had to step out for a bit.” She looks up at the stranger and wrinkles her nose, trying to figure out who they were and what they were doing here... “Can I help you though?” 

[tanpopo-kun-blog]

&&. pxncilpushxr 

                                “A-ah, I think your hair is very p-pretty. Sorry for bothering you out of the blue...” He just couldn’t help but compliment it. It had such a  pretty hue. Plus Minoru was on a current mission to spread happiness.