@yoshitki’s asking for trouble
--- “Oi, blondie. The hell d’ya think you’re doing here?!”
A loud, agitated male voice carried through the night air, interrupting the ambient background noise of city traffic and casual, laid-back chatter. What soon followed was a plethora of threats and insults, from various different sources seemingly all aimed at the same person - an intruder, an outsider of sorts. Who was it this time that wandered off to a place like this? The back alley of Port Island Station gave no shelter to those who did not belong. Not that Shinjiro himself ever considered himself one of them, either - despite being a regular - but at least he never stood out in any weird way (or did anything stupid) that would have challenged those around him to mess with him. Truth be told, he was perhaps the most feared of them all, his silent demeanor and heavy aura only serving to reinforce such image. An advantage, perhaps; even if the boy would have no trouble winning a physical fight with nearly anyone that asked for one, the Hierophant simply preferred to avoid it happening altogether, if at all possible.
Would he be forced to interfere this time around? There were occasions when an innocent wanderer stumbled upon this place in their foolish curiosity, simply not knowing what they were getting into. Shinjiro had taken as his duty to make sure not a single person who truly didn’t deserve it would be getting hurt too badly. Sure, it was hard to judge from a distance whether or not the newcomer may have had it coming for them for whatever reason, but from the looks of it and sound of it, this was a one against four-or-so match. No matter which way you put it, the composition that was developing seemed a little unfair. Shinjiro knew not all of the regulars completely shied away from using types of small weaponry either. Maybe he was better off at least taking a look... A pocketknife to the gut didn’t seem like the ideal way of ending the night for anyone involved.
Sheesh... And he thought tonight was going to be a peaceful one, for once. Hanging his head with a heavy sigh, leaning against the cold brick wall around the corner of the spot where the commotion was taking place, the young man finally walked over, with heavy, determined steps that immediately alerted the surrounding people - if not for the punk currently focusing on “handling” the newcomer. It was hard to identify the person in trouble clearly in the darkness of the back alley, not to mention the small crowd of teenagers gathered around to witness the event. Still, the boy was willing to bet this person certainly didn’t belong here. The others’ reactions alone were enough to prove it. As enough time went by it became more and more evident that the stranger definitely needed a helping hand, as the tall male currently in charge seemed quite generous with the punches.
“...There a problem here, or what? I’ll take care of it, alright?”
