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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 4, 2019 19:31:38 GMT -5
Misha was not wont to turn down a gift, especially from a good friend. Sure, it was a byproduct of an academic assignment, but Komachi, a good friend since Junior High, had put so much of her heart and soul into it, that it would have been an insult not to use it. And so, Misha went to bed and woke up in one of the most fanciful nightgowns she had ever had. The superlative quality was undeniable, and as per the tailor's usual wonts prioritized freedom of movement such that if it was not for the reflection in Misha's morning cup of tea, she would not have remembered that she was wearing it. But it was this finery, pale white cloth adorned with brilliant and hand-made lace, held together by golden embroidery, that unnerved Misha. A clouded midwinter sky cast a gloomy grey light into Misha's room, held back only by a small lamp on Misha's beside stand dying the otherwise monochrome scene with a vivid yellow. Orderly and simple with a few trinkets here and there, the room was very much what one would expect from a humble bakers' daughter, except for two things. The first rested against the wall space between the window and the lamp, each light fighting over which side to colour. A solemn body of white, trimmed in gold, an altered replica of her grandfather's cane, clad in the same palette as the second thing that stood out. Misha really did appreciate the gift. She really did. But it was another reminder of how she seemed to strangely straddle two worlds. The baker's daughter, the statesman's heir. Bring joy to the world through simple food. Bring peace to the world through noble example. With a sigh, Misha shook her head and turned to face the window, her cup of tea in hand and her cane in the other. Time for a change of subject, but the first thing that came to the culinarian's mind was another frustration. Another transfer student. As per usual the student council was informed, but details beyond a name were unacceptably farce, and that reminder forced Misha to take a sip of tea to drink down the bitter taste of frustration. She had made it known her displeasure at the poor logistics, and yet, little seemed to change. Perhaps a more forceful approach was needed, and Misha began to lightly tap her cane against the ground in concentration.
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 5, 2019 16:33:50 GMT -5
Mako lugged her bag through the hallway of the dorms. It was her first time here other than the audition. It didn't help that it was freezing cold outside either. Only made the maroon haired girl more annoyed at the current situation. The fact that the school was too far away for her just to take the train or something. So she had to move into the dorms. It wasn't the end of world sure. But Mako didn't really get along with most. Mostly due to her bulling in her early years. So being forced to room with someone wasn't her first choice in living condition. If she could have afforded it, she would have rented a apartment near the school. But with her mother working as hard as she just to keep them afloat, there was no way she could afford it.
As she kept lugging her bag, full of clothes and all the other essentials, and a guitar in it's in the other hand, with another one thrown around her back being held by the shoulder straps. She has two guitars for two different things. One is acoustic guitar where she doesn't need a amp. And then her electric guitar. She uses both of them regularly. She finally got in front of her room. As she let one of the bags hit the ground as she shuffled through her black skin tight jeans to try and find the damn key. Once she found it she unlocked the door with an audible click. As she reached, grabbing her back and opening the door so she could slip in. She was met with a warm air hitting her face. Her cold blue eyes scanning the room as she took another step in releasing the grip on the bag. As she stood there for a second in her leather jacket, a darker red t-shirt under the open leather jacket that had a band on it, skin tight black jeans that showed her figure quite well, a black necklace traced it's way around her neck. Earrings dangling from her ears, and nose ring that stood out quite well. She had forgotten to take it out before leaving. Just by looking at Mako you could tell she wasn't like most girls her age. Her tall lean figure surrounded by more of a punkish style.
While placing the guitars down carefully. "Such a boring roo-" she was saying to herself as she kept scanning the room before seeing a figure and holding her sharp tongue for second. As she looked at the figure, long flowing blonde hair, a rather easy face, quite cute Mako thought. As she stared at the girl for a second before leaning down and taking off her shoes, before picking up her things and placing them on the empty bed. Ignoring the other presence in the room. As she heard her phone start to go off, her ring tone a rather good indicator that she was weird. As it was more metal music being screamed into the room from her phone. As she dug it out of her pocket and looked at the number. As her eyes sparkled for just a second, vanishing the coldness in her eyes.
"Dad what's up."
"heh alright, mom will probably let know me know when she sends it over. Who is the artist?"
"Veil of Maya really? Hell yea, I didn't know they came out with a new album at all. Sweet can't wait to listen to it. I'll see you in a couple weeks when you come back to visit." she finished talking in English before hanging up on the phone and tossing it on the bed next to her stuff. As she plopped down on the bed herself as she took off her jacket letting it fall behind her as she just sighed. She was tired after to hall everything to the third floor.
Notes: Talking in Japanese Talking in English
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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 5, 2019 19:47:52 GMT -5
It was quiet, and Misha liked the quiet. But eventually, time had to move forward, and the thud outside the door commanded Misha's attention. The baker had a mind to ignore it until the sound of lock disengaging echoed through the room. As the door opened, the gears turned in Misha's mind. A transfer student would likely be in need of a room, and being one of the few students who had yet to have a roommate, it was not unthinkable that Misha would get one. Misha knew better than to judge solely on first impressions, but between the outfit and the off-the-cuff remark about the Spartan accommodations, it was difficult to not pity the new girl. The aesthetic, from the jacket, the jeans, the piercings, the musical ringtone, the attitude, she had seen it before in various iterations, though each one had their own little story to tell. Likely so this was the case for the redhead in front of her. At the very least, she seemed to be on good terms with her family, if the jovial conversation was any indication. A rarity when given the look the other girl wore. In a ways, failing to at least pardon herself for the interruption of a proper introduction was a faux paus, but given that it was family, Misha was willing to let it slide, opting to set down the tea cup and start to prepare a tray of the usual welcoming tea and snacks. By the sound of the bed behind her, Misha figured that the conversation was over, just in time to bring the tray over to the other side of the room. "<Good morning, Miss Inaba. And welcome to Fukui Academy.>" Misha said, opting for English. If she talked to her parents in English, she figured that would make things more comfortable. "<I do hope the transition was not too arduous, and if there is still outstanding logistics, be it your class schedule or your uniform, please do tell me, lest your first day be marred by otherwise avoidable faux pas.>" Not waiting for Mako to get up from bed, Misha poured her a cup of tea and set it aside on the closest table. Then, the baker retreated, retrieving her cane and a chair, placing it comfortably distant from Mako's bed and letting the cane rest across her lap as she sat back down.
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 5, 2019 21:11:11 GMT -5
As sat there debating on if she really wanted to start unpacking or go for a walk. Because frankly she wasn't in the mood in to unpack. But at the same time she never would be so might as well get it over with she thought to herself as the excitement for more music was on the way to her when ever her mother decided to send her the package. Just as she about to get up and start the long day of unpacking and setting up her side of the room. The blonde haired girl came over with a tray of tiny snacks and tea. Mako just looked at it as her eye twitched a bit in annoyance. There was something about nice people that just didn't sit well with her. Mostly based on her own opinions and her thoughts that whenever someone was nice to her, it was more of a fake nice. Like they didn't mean it. As she look over the blonde again. It was a shame, she is kinda cute.
As the girl started to talk, Mako was caught off guard a bit. She could speak English. Huh that was a surprise. She wondered how many more could. Fluently that is. It is a harder language to learn. She knew all too well. As she asked if the transition was okay and all that. As Mako just looked at her. "Gah. Just call me Mako. Screw all that formal crap. We are the same age and now roommates." she said with a bit of an annoyed tone. Mostly due to the formalities and her niceness which creeped her out. Like how can you go out of your way to pour tea and get snacks for someone. It almost made her shiver in disgust. As she stood up from the bed and grabbed one of the snacks and popped into her mouth. "mmm good, but too sweet." she said to herself more or less. Quickly forgetting that there was now someone living with her from now on. More like she was living with her now.
She walked back over to her bag and unzipped it and started to take out clothes by the bunches. All darker tone shirts, shorts and pants. As she glanced over at the girl who was now sitting on a chair. "So tell me, you got a boyfriend..." she paused as she turned her body to her. "girlfriend? I don't judge. But if you do then we have nothing to talk about." she said sharply as her cold blue eyes narrowed in on the blonde. She was curious, that was all. She was cute enough for Mako, but maybe a bit too nice personality wise, but she could always change that.
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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 6, 2019 17:59:56 GMT -5
How nostalgic. The subtle twitch, the brusque responses, it was all reminiscent of a certain swallowtail butterfly's. Mako even went as far to insult the snacks that were handmade; sure one could have preferences, but such mannerisms were rather disrespectful towards the effort put into it. Yet all Misha could do was brush it off and pity the girl. In Misha's eyes, it was so much like the girl was trying to fight something when there really wasn't anything to fight. Rather telling was that Mako did not even ask for her name, and with how the conversation seemed to have moved on, there was no graceful way to inject it. "<At the risk of disappointing you, Mako, must say that I have neither.>" Misha readily admitted, starting to chuckle. There was no hint of shame or embarrassment in her voice, though even with her relaxed tone she was not going to act the way she did in front of family. And of course, there was her budding feelings for a certain author, but to directly answer Mako's question, a denial would suffice. But what a question that was. It felt rather telling of Mako, to launch immediately into it. Is that how the redhead related to others, pondered the culinarian. It was a question that her cousin Yuko would have gotten in her school that was a tad more strict and rigid; how hypocritical that a girl who despised formality would launch into the very-same gossip. Unfortunately, intuition stung, and with slow, yet graceful movement, Misha took leave of her chair and approached her desk, leaning lightly on her cane as she walked. From the corner of her eye, she noted the type of clothes that were being unpacked. Truly this girl was immersed in that culture. And there was that unmistakable shape of the guitars as well. From atop her desk, Misha picked up her phone, opting to change the subject as she manipulated her phone. "<Are there any stories behind those guitars?>" Misha asked. She had contemplated offering assistance, but given the reaction to the usual welcoming tea, she decided against it. Instead, she followed her earlier nostalgia. There were a deep history behind the painstakingly restored piece that belonged to that swallowtail, and Misha's idle curiosity wonder if it was the same for Mako Still, she remained standing after setting her phone down, the ivory white case with the golden letting of обязывает facing upwards and the microphone facing inwards to the room.
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 7, 2019 0:49:20 GMT -5
Mako looked at the blonde girl as she answered her question, as Mako just smirked a bit as she turned around to unpack her things. So she doesn't huh. She probably has someone she fancy's though. Should I ruin it? Or should a have a little fun? Maybe it was her way to get back at the bullying she had suffered, by becoming one. Not so much a bully but just a thorn in someone's side. It did seem like fun but would that really make her feel better about herself? Most likely not. As she just sighed a bit as she glanced over at the girl from the corner of her eyes seeing her walk over to her desk.
"Well maybe we could have a little fun, after all this is our room now. Plus not many people will enter or hear." she said to herself out loud without realizing it and bit on the more of a seductive tone, as her eyes fixated on the girls body behind her. Mako had no problem with her sexuality. Yes she was gay, it mostly devolved when she played sports and started to fixate on the girls bodies instead of actively trying to get a boyfriend. She kinda put two and two together finding out she was more attracted to women than men. Despite her disgust with most people, and the hard realization that she didn't have much redeeming qualities about herself other than her music, it didn't stop her trying to find that one person. Plus with the blonde behind her not being exactly her type, but she did find her more or less attractive.
As she continued to unpack, she heard the voice from behind her as she had just taken out one of her posters. As she set down the poster and turned to her. "Not much of one. My father left the acoustic guitar when he and my mom split. And he went back to the states after his tour was done. So this and the music he showed me are the only memories of him I have. Other then when he visits every couple of years." she said calmly like it was nothing. Mako had no problem telling people her past or what happened. It was just the way she was, she was honest, brutally so most times.
As she grabbed the second guitar case and opened it. "Then this one is my electric one. No story behind this one, bought after working my ass off for a couple years while helping my mom out. Mostly play this when practicing with the band." she added as she closed it before setting it aside. As she hopped up on the bed as she started to hang the posters up. Mostly of all metal bands and some other random stuff she liked, like some anime or shows.
Once she was done with that she got down and started to make her bed. "So what's your name. Since we will be living together and all that. Plus it was kinda rude of me not asking for your name. As you can tell I'm not the most personable person" she said as she glanced back at her, Mako accepted that she wasn't the most friendly what so ever, but that was no excuse to be mean or rude. Mako has a disgusting personality but she by no means a total bitch. A name is pretty important after all. And sometimes if you don't ask for one or give one to someone it makes them feel like utter garbage.
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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 7, 2019 22:36:39 GMT -5
That smirk. No wonder Misha's intiution burned strongly strongly, and now her phone played the part of the listening sentinel. There were few things that truly angered the baker, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that Mako was the sort that Misha loathed the most: the frivolously flirtatious. That explained the gossipy question. Though Misha's face did not show her rising ire, her hands on her hand shifted, her left hand reversing its grip and moving down to the golden ring around her cane that maked its centre of balance. And there the hand remained at the ready as Mako spoke about her guitars. Though Mako did not think too much of the backstory, it was still enough for Misha to parse and gain some insight into Mako's past. Parents who had split, yet from the call seemed to still be on good terms and visited, albeit rarely. The father was the musician, and thus more than likely the impetus for the daughter's interests and influences. One guitar was an heirloom, a reminder of kinder days, the other a trophy of hard work. And a mention of being in a band; anyone who came to Fukui already had to have a good portfolio to even consider applying, yet Mako had likely already played for gigs or published songs, perhaps the 'work' she was referring to earlier. Misha had only a moment to glance at the posters being hung on the wall. Beyond obvious metal bands, there was no theme, no organization. Not that it revealed anything detrimental; Misha simply had no interests in posters. Pale eyes flickered from poster to poster, then finally to Mako as she asked for Misha's name. "<My name is Misha Shirayama," the baker replied, bowing respectfully. Normally, a 'pleased to meet you' would follow, but in light of her rising ire, Misha found herself unwilling to make even a small lie like that. It was one thing to be knowledgable regarding lacking social graces, but even that ornery swallowtail promised (and made good on it too) to improve herself in that regard. "<While I understand and have dealt with people who are not exactly the most amible, I must, for your sake, remind you that it will have to be 'Shirayama-san' outside here. Perhaps under different circumstances I would not have to issue such a warning.>"
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 12, 2019 13:10:46 GMT -5
Mako cotinued to make her bed as the girl talked saying her name. ah Shirayama, she thought. Sounds like a familiar fancy name she thought as she laid out her blankets out on the bed. When she finally finished Misha seemed to lay down the law with saying outside of this room it would be Shirayama-san. Mako glanced back at her, her eye twitching in a bit of annoyance. Mako may be a bit hard to be around but she was raised with the basics of respect. As she looked at her. "Hai, Hai" was all she responded and in a clearly annoyed tone. Make didn't like being told what to do, obvious by the way she looked. Dyed hair piercings and all that. Especially since her mother hated it also.
As she finished her bed she put all of her clothes away then went back to her guitars and set up the acoustic in it's stand she had brought with her. As she took it out she cleaned some of the dust off of it from it's case before putting it on the stand at the end of her bed. As she left the electric one in it's case as she would be carrying that one much more often around campus. Or to her band practices back in Tokyo on the weekends. She could already tell she wasn't going to enjoy her stay here. But she at least had to finish the next two years here to make her mother happy. Graduate high school at least before following her dream of playing on a big stage. But at least this school at a great music program she could practice anytime she wanted, so that was the only upside she thought of.
She finally finished unpacking as she slid her bag under her bed and flopped her self down on the bed. As she glanced over at Shirayama. "So what major are you here for." she asked as she slipped back into talking into Japanese out of habit. It wasn't like she spoke English all the time. She really only spoke it around her father or when she was pissed off, mostly so she could say bad things and not be understood.
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 12, 2019 22:41:30 GMT -5
It really was hard to stay angry, especially with that annoyed tone of voice and eye twitching that elicited a sense of pity from the baker. There was such a strong temptation for Misha to shake her head and smile, as if she was watching some child throw a harmless temper tantrum. Though that swallowtail was similarly abrasive, after some time she mellowed out, and perhaps Mako would do the same. But in many ways, Mako seemed to lack the things that Misha would have otherwise been more understanding of. Mako still had parents who seemed to be at least in regular contact and on amiable terms, music was a hobby persued out of enjoyment rather than a refuge, and as much as Mako talked about working, she seemed to lack that self-preservation quality that one would find in someone who had to literaly fight to live. And the aesthetic Mako donned didn't help mitigate that final image of a immature child chasing a fad for the sake of attention. Mako switched into Japanese and Misha decided to follow suit, responding with, "I am a Culinary Arts Major." Given that Mako seemed disinterested, if not insulted by the welcoming accomodations, Misha walked over to Mako's side of the room and picked up her tea tray, carrying it back to her desk. As she poured more tea for herself, Misha continued to explain. "My family runs the Shirayama Bakery, right at the Nishi-Hachiouji Station in Tokyo. Business has been quite good, especially for a husband and wife who were self taught in both running a business and breadcraft. But...they are ever the ones to look forward. Investing in the future." Misha paused as she blew across her hot tea. "I am not particularly fond of playing political and business games, beyond what my duty here entails, but I am intent on eventually taking the reigns of the family business." Another pause passed as Misha took a drink, turning to Mako afterwards. "And even now, simply sending back what I have learned so far has already improved our offerings."
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 15, 2019 21:21:46 GMT -5
Mako glanced over at Misha while she talked about being in culinary arts and how her family runs a bakery and all that. And how she will eventually take over but not caring for the political aspect of it. As Mako just looked at her then to the ceiling. "Makes sense now, with the snacks. They weren't bad, I just don't have a sweet tooth." she shrugged a bit as she brought her arms up and put them behind her head to be a bit more comfy. "But I think I have heard of that bakery." she said to herself in thought. "Walked passed it I think all the time going to practice." she added as she looked at Misha. "But like I said no sweet tooth so never went in there." she shrugged. She wasn't trying to be rude or anything, just honest saying she didn't have a sweet tooth. But some people could take that the wrong way, which Mako didn't really care, but she wasn't trying to be rude. But with how her tone is could come off that way.
As took out her phone and started to look through some things. "I also agree with you, political crap is stupid." she said with a chuckle. "So you more or less just care for actually making the product than being the face of the business....Makes sense." she added as she yawned a bit. She had to get up early in order to get to the school at a reasonable time. So she was quite tired. But she did understand the way Misha thought about her circumstance with her family business, almost relatable. But Mako did want to be famous for her singing and guitar playing. But she didn't care for being in the actual spot light. But that kinda comes with being famous. She just wanted her music out in the world for people to enjoy.
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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 16, 2019 17:34:54 GMT -5
"Personal preference is understandable, but you really need to work on proper delivery, Miss Inaba," Misha said to herself as she took another sip from her tea, barely suppressing a sigh. "Poor communication leads to regretable and most damningly, completely avoidable incidents." But this was day one. Mako was roughly Misha's age, and so the baker figured there was still plenty of time to learn. Hopefully. And speaking of time, the baker looked to the side where her phone was, barely lifting it up with one hand and putting her tea cup down with the other. That sense of danger that crept in the back of Misha's mind had yet to pass, so she let the phone continue it's work, carefully placing it face-down again. "You are close, but not exactly correct. Even the product is but a means to an end." Misha said, closing her eyes and holding her cane in front of her. "The mission of the Shirayama Bakery was to bring people happiness through simple yet fulfilling food. We are not naive enough to think that a single sweet roll will be some ultimate force of virtute, nor that every would appreciate such things, but it is enough to brighten someone's day and make them happy, even for a short while." Misha opened her eyes again as she finished her explanation. In all honesty, she expected her monologue to be brushed off as selfish and/or naive. "Granted, much of my disdain for politics and business stems from having work with people who...eschew their duties in lieu of personal...indulgence." The pauses in Misha's speech was not because she lacked words, but wanted to emphasize that her choice of words were deliberately understatements. "But, I must admit, it is heartening to see someone who shares similar...distaste."
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Post by Mako Inaba on Feb 22, 2019 20:40:01 GMT -5
Mako looked at the baker as she started to speak about how the product was just that, the product. What Mako got out of what she was saying was that she would rather have made something to bring joy to that person even just for a small moment. Mako raised an eyebrow when she heard that. She could honestly relate all to well to that statement. After all music is the same way if not even a step above just a moment of happiness. After all, finding music and playing really helped the maroon haired girl out her rut when she was younger.
"That's quite a admirable ethic for the business, or at least for you in particular." she said giving a bit of praise to the baker. Even if it wasn't always there, Mako can be nice...sometimes. "I feel the same about music, I think most people do." she said as she paused as she took a glance at he guitars. "Even if the song in only a couple minuets long. If the person listing to it is transported to somewhere were they feel happy or at least for moment forgets about all of their troubles, then I think the artist did their job." she said as she glanced over at the blonde. Mako was truly saved music, either through listing to it or playing it. It was her escape from her troubles, from her bullies, from the fact that she only had her mother to rely it. When ever she listened or played, she could go somewhere were all of her troubles vanished even just for a moment. That was the relief that Mako gets when listing or playing.
"eh politics is really all about fighting, at least at it's basic form. It is just people arguing over what is right and what isn't. Over opinions." she said as she paused to sit up and hang her feet over the side of the bed. "Everywhere you go it is like that. It has no place in most business, hell, it doesn't belong anyway except government." she continued as she just shrugged.
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Happiness exists, and it is edible. |
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Post by Misha Shirayama on Feb 24, 2019 21:09:14 GMT -5
To receive such a reaction was a surprise to Misha, and it showed in a slight smile and raise of the eyebrows as she followed Mako's gaze to her guitars. Most of the time, people had either brushed off the baker's aspirations as too good to be true, if not incomprehensible. But, at least far as Misha understood, Mako had the same ideas as her, just in the realm of music instead of foodcraft. Well, Mako made it to Fukui after all, a good portfolio helped, but was meaningless without the passion. Unfortunately, Mako's remarks about politics prompted another reversal in mood, though Misha's only visible reaction was to take a deep breath. 'Arguing over what is right and wrong' was a gross oversimplification, and that wasn't even touching all the philosophical notions of what 'right and wrong' is. Perhaps the twisted form of governance that her birth family tried to hard to correct really wasn't government, just a mafia racket masquerading as a force for the common good. Thankfully, Misha did not have to stew in contemplative melancholy for long as it was her turn to have a cell phone interrupt the conversation. In stark contrast to the harsh metal from before, a short but somber piano melody filled the air. Each member of the family had been assigned a certain motif, and this one caused Misha's eyebrows to narrow to an almost glare at her phone. "Ara, ara...now tell me, what mess did you get into this time?" Misha said as she reached for her phone and flipped it over. Her tone of voice had a hint of amusement, like a mother who had caught her child with their hand in the cookie jar. Indeed it was her cousin Yuki, asking for a bit of advice. To send a message like this meant it was somewhat urgent, yet not enough to warrent a direct, immediate call. "Inaba-san, I'm afraid I have some family matters to attend to," Misha said as she picked up the phone and relieving it of its original duty. "I know that the tea and snacks are not to your preference, but should you have a change of heart, feel free to partake." Misha bowed lightly, then looked Mako in the eye. "And, it was a pleasure to meet you." This time, Misha meant it, smiling lightly as she made her way to the door. Step by step and with her cane to support her, she made her way out to the hallway, closing the door behind her with a careful 'click'.
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