A New Face (Sal)

Kasumi had been in the Human World a little over a week now. He had already mastered blending in, having not been gone long enough for much to change. He had found a little shop called Chisana o Mise, which turned out to be a shop for Soul Reapers. There, he had a Gigai made, one that supressed Spiritual Pressure, and continued on his way, since it was easier to interact and purchase things when you weren't a sword carrying spirit that most people couldn't see. He had to admit though, he was getting a bit lonely. Sometimes, he hoped and longed to meet another Soul Reaper, but he knew the chances to be small. So, day in and day out, he looked for signs of other Shinigami, and found none. Until today, that is.

Even the most dogged of devilishly possessed avengers needs some down time and Sal Norongachi, Rouge Shinigami and possessor, or possesee depending how you looked at it, of a Dark and cheerfully Sadistic inner Companion, was no different.

He'd done all he could with the information given to him but the silken whisper of his shadowy house guest told him that all he had to do was wait. He had drawn first blood, the rest would come to him.

He let his feet take him sauntering down the paved street, the crowd milling around like so many feckless sheep in a world full of wolves and inhaled a lungful of air. He couldn't remember a time before he'd been joined by his surly and blood thirsty companion when he'd just took the time to enjoy a day without chasing some dark assailant or busting up one of the Twelves operations.

He stopped outside a coffee shop and sat down at one of the small, steel tables, and marveled at the way the Waitress actually noticed him. Why hadn't he heard of these marvelous Gigai contraptions before!

"A mocha, dont be shy with the cream" He said with a charmingly fake smile.

As he was walking, he smelled the alluring scent of bold coffee, and followed his intense olfactory senses straight to a coffe shop he had passed by a few times before. He grinned, and looked for a table to sit down at, and realized that every one of the iron tables had people sitting at them. With a sigh, he looked around for a likely candidate, and spotted a man not far off. He appeared friendly enough. He was built like a swimmer; broad shouldered brown hair and eyes. Kasumi, being the extrovert he was, approached the man without a hint of caution.


"Excuse me, sir, but all the tables are full. Mind if I join you at yours...?" he asked, his charming smile shining through, though he knew his confidence and true age were alight in his eyes.

The waitress returned, frazzled and harassed by the daily influx of customers crowding the gaggle of tables. She placed his Mocha down, the white china cup sitting on top of a similar saucer, the frothy head of whipped cream dusted with chocolate sprinkles.

He had just reached for the cup when a voice broke his calm. He sighed inwardly and then let the mask of normality settle over his face, he was pretending to be human after all, and looked up with an open and friendly expression.

"Umm..sure..yeah, by all means." Sal responded when his thoughts were the literal opposite of what he had said but that would have been rude and despite everything he still liked to think of himself as a polite monster.

Kasumi could almost feel the negation in the man's voice, though he accepted the offer and hospitality. He noticed the waitress still standing there, and laughed a little, then reached into a pocket, pulled out a few euros, and paid for the man's coffee, a sign of thanks. He then ordered the same for himself, as the sight of it made his mouth water and his throat constrict. As the waitress went off again, Kasumi turned his attention back to the man.


"You're not from around here, are you...?" Kasumi asked seriously, though from another perspective, he would just sound curious. The waitress chose that moment to return, and deposit his steaming cup in front of him. Kasumi graciously accepted the frothy drink and gave the waitress her euros, as well as a few extra, and flashed her an overly charming smile. She blushed slightly as she walked away to tend to all her other customers. "So, where are you from, if not here?" he questioned. He was trying to make conversation, sort of trying to soften him up, since he seemed as sociable as a stone, what with his intent gaze of determination, as if trying not to notice anyone, and trying to make others not notice him. Not to mention, it was only polite to try and befriend him, since he had so graciously offered him hospitality and kindness in allowing him a place to sit in the crowded area.

Sal reclined back in his chair, letting one elbow rest on the top of its back and taking a sip of the cream topped mocha, tasting the sharp tang of the ginger and chocolate sprinkles dance on his taste buds. It was good, far better than he was used to although he wondered what caffeine would do to him after such a long, unwelcome, abstinence.

"Scotland," He said and although he had purposefully dialed down his accent over the years for the Un-Glaswegian he decided to slip back into the bastard tongue. "Urr Glesga, if ye wantae get specific" He said and after such a long time he found it quite liberating to indulge in the confusing babble that was his native tongue.

"What about you? From around these parts or just here for a visit like myself?"

Kasumi studied the man's lax posture and assumed that he was beginning to relax a bit. He was slightly intrigued when he heard that Scotland was the origin of the large man. He certainly could fit in, but he almost would never believe it, as he virtually had no accent, or so Kasumi thought until he heard the man break character, and the thick, guttural accent came from nowhere as he named the specific place he was from, which, Kasumi thought he made out to be Glasgow. He grinned, having never heard such an accent.

"Nah, I'm just visiting too. Needed a break. Where I'm from is like another dimension compared to this." he replied to the question that was directed at him after. He mentally cursed himself for the statement, knowing full well saying something of the sort could make a Shinigami nearby aware of his presence, something he didn't want. Quickly, he added, "So, do you happen to have a name?"

The Mocha was almost half done now, the cream having lost its whipped texture and now simply congealed on the surface of the liquid like a white pond scum. Sal set it aside and ran his fingers across his upper lip and the tip of his nose in case any of it remained behind.

"You aren't wrong about that mate," Sal responded, it did feel like an entirely different way of life from what he was used to. He hadn't been forced to butcher anyone in the last half hour, which was nice. "Its Sal," He said and extended a hand across the table. "And you are?"