1963-10-25 - Full of Surprises
Summary: Shinobi and Akihiro discuss future partnership possibilities
Related: None
Theme Song: None
shinobi akihiro 


Under normal circumstances, a man like Shinobi Takeda would not be caught dead in Mutant Town; he may be a mutant, but that's a very closely guarded secret, and not one he wishes to reveal to the public at large just yet. Hence, his visit here is unaccompanied, even by his driver, who tends to be a rather permanent fixture. No, tonight Shinobi made his way alone through the city, relying on common taxis, and then walking a short distance to actually enter the area known as a Mutant Town. He has eschewed his usual finery for less opulent dress, though he can't bring himself to really 'slum it' as far as clothing goes; he may not be wearing a suit and tie, but the leather jacket is designer, and his shoes are still a bit too well polished for the 'common man' look he might have intended. Nonetheless, he doesn't stick out like /too/ much of a sore thumb.

The man arrives at the entrance to the Eight Ball, only to be stopped by the very well-muscled bouncer, who insists on a demonstration of Shinobi's mutation. Reluctant to expose himself, even here, he offers the man a crisp twenty, and an assurance that if he meets with no trouble inside, more will be forthcoming; the bribe, and the promise of more, seems to do the trick, as Shinobi is allowed in. Once he has gained entrance, the man makes his way to the bar, standing between two stools, both occupied, without much concern for whatever the individuals atop them might think about his sudden arrival, as he peruses the liquor selection. Frankly, he wasn't sure what to expect here, but Shinobi wouldn't pay to drink this swill, and makes a bit of a face to express it.

*

"The nip's ah goddamn cheat!" is shouted from the back of the room as chips and cards go flying from a meaty fist making contact with the sturdy table. The commotion seems to be coming from a card game, and it's obvious from the stack of chips in front of him that the accused cheater is a young Asian man dressed in a leather jacket and worn jeans, the common version of the flashier outfit Shinobi wore in.

"Not my fault you're shit at cards. Now pay up or I'm beating it out of you." The teenager warns, lips curling into a snarl that show off his animalistic features. It's an interesting sight to say the least, the smaller teenager butting heads with a /very/ large bearded man.

*

The commotion from the back of the room attracts Shinobi's attention, to say the least. He turns to look, and sees a young man of similar heritage to his own; that alone earns him some measure of consideration. His confidence in the face of a much larger opponent earns another mark in his favour. Of course, Shinobi knows nothing more about either man, but if he must base an opinion on initial appearances, there is something noble about standing up to another twice your size. He moves slightly closer, his steps carrying him easily through the crowded room toward the pair, though he refrains from getting close enough that he should become accidentally involved, though he can be easily heard when he pipes up. "Never mind the cards, my friend," Shinobi says calmly, "This fellow ought to be taught not to use such derogatory language, if nothing else. Make him apologize for it, and I will give you twice what he owes for the hand," Shinobi offers, before leaning back against the pool table he had arrived at, watching how this scene plays out between the two. Whether or not the added bonus of more money actually makes a difference to Akihiro, Shinobi has no idea, but he's confident that however the younger, smaller man reacts, the comment will only serve to rile the larger man further. It should make this fight all the more interesting.

*

"When I'm done with him, I'm comin' for you." The man warns, flipping the table and advancing on Akihiro, who's already shot to his feet. A massive fist connects squarely with the side of the teenager's head, sending him flying into a pool table, making it obvious what his mutation is.

Akihiro is right back on his feet, split brow and bruised orbital healing in the blink of an eye. "That's your one." He shrugs out of his jacket, revealing the hard muscle he's mostly comprised of. His hands raise in a defensive manner, readying himself for whatever the larger man has in store.

If it didn't do anything else, healing from the blow like it was nothing went a long ways towards pissing the man off even more. He rushes the teenager, swinging for his jaw, then a jab at the midsection, before following it with a violent haymaker.

Akihiro has clearly done this more than once, as none of the blows actually make solid contact with him. Dodge, block, counter. After what seems like a few minutes of toying with him, he moves in, fist solidly connecting first with his ribs, then his solar plexus, before he drives the heel of his boot into the side of the large man' knee. The bouncer arrives in time to witness the coup de grace, a sharp knee to the nose, toppling the giant.

*

Shinobi merely smirks when the large man threatens him. Perhaps he's a bit overconfident when it comes to his ability to defend himself; in a place like this, there are no guarantees of anything, after all. He watches as the two fight, and it becomes apparent very quickly that Shinobi bet on the right horse in this race; the smirk turns into a thin smile, and then into a wider one by the time Akihiro finishes the brawl with that final blow. The bouncer is ignored; Shinobi hopes he won't attempt to intervene, now that the fight is essentially over, but if he does he's prepared to dissuade him. Shinobi doesn't move, though; his eyes simply go from the youth to the fallen giant, and then back to Akihiro, expectantly, while his fingers tap on the wooden edge of the pool table.

*

Akihiro raises a finger to indicate he'd like a moment to finish what he's doing, then moves to stand over the man in question. "I'm a lot of things bub, a cheat isn't one of them. Now I'd like an apology, especially for dragging my race into it." He points his fist at the man, and there's a soft snikt as two shiny metal claws emerge from between his knuckles, thankfully he's already established they were for show in previous altercations.

"S-sorry." the man whimpers, clutching his broken nose. "I didn't mean nothin' by it, ah swear!" Funny how pride goes out the door when you're worried you might die.

"Glad to know we're on the same page." Akihiro offers pleasantly, claws sinking back into his flesh. He turns and heads back to tug his jacket on, nodding at the bouncer.

*

Shinobi chuckles quietly, hearing the apology. "How quickly cowardice shows its true colours," he says, loudly enough to be heard but to no-one in particular. "Well fought, my friend, though I will admit this beast of a man did not seem to present much of a challenge," he says to Akihiro with a smirk. His eyes keep track of the large wounded man, should there be any further need, but his attention remains mostly on the victor. "Come, I will buy you a drink, make good on my offer, and we can get to know one another better," he says, motioning to an empty table nearby before starting to move toward it himself.

*

"I've fought worse." Akihiro lifts his shoulders in a shrug, heading over to the table. "So, you make a habit of betting on bar fights?" He takes one of the napkins from the table and cleans the blood from his forehead, "Sure I've got a few more to get in before the night's over with if you want to place bets."

*

"I don't think I would call it a habit," Shinobi says, sliding into the seat and setting his hands clasped together atop the table. "And I believe, for it to be a bet, I would have had to have won something?" He offers a grin at that, and then a slight shrug. "I prefer to think of it as incentive. I expect you'd have fought just as well, had I not offered anything, but the idea that you were going to be paid for trouncing the brute, as I suspected, enraged your opponent further. Whether that made it easier on you or not, I suppose we may never know, but I enjoy having at least some influence over such things," Shinobi says. "Speaking of which, I offered to double your winnings from that hand, and I am a man who keeps his word when it comes to such things," he continues, reaching into his jacket for a chequebook and a pen. "I hope you'll be honest; to what amount should I be writing this cheque for," he asks. He knows that Akihiro could easily exaggerate his winnings, and is giving him the benefit of the doubt as far as his honesty goes.

*

"Then I suppose I should ask different questions, like what do you get out of paying me to kick his ass?" Akihiro asks, fishing a cigarette from a pocket and popping it between his lips. "Would have been more interesting if his friends joined in, or if he was a better brawler. But, we can't have everything we want." His brows proceed to furrow in thought, "Damage is severe, he owed me twenty-five dollars." Which would explain why he was so angry.

*

Shinobi smirks as he starts to scrawl on the cheque. "Amusement, perhaps? It also proved an avenue to a conversation," he says, looking up from his writing. "I am always keen to meet new and interested people, particularly those with extraordinary abilities, and even more than that, those who are not afraid to use them. Now forgive me, but who should I make this out to?" They never really properly introduced themselves, after all.

*

"In hindsight, I wouldn't have any way of cashing a check." Akihiro admits, reaching up to rub at his jaw. "But I'm Akihiro Howlett. And I'm afraid I'm probably going to have to turn you down, still stuck working for the last people that were interested in my abilities, still not sure it's worth the adamantium claws."

*

"Of course," Shinobi says, scratching through the check to void it. He reaches into his inside pocket again, and draws out his wallet, and from it takes a crisp hundred dollar bill, along with a business card, sliding them together across the table toward the youth. "I'm afraid I don't have anything smaller, so this will have to do. A small price to pay for the show," he says with a smirk. "But I'm afraid you misunderstand me, Mr. Howlett. I was not intending to hire you. You seem to be a man who has little need of employment, frankly, and unless you have an accounting degree to match those adamantium claws, I'm afraid my business has little enough need of a man with your demonstrated talents." He pauses a moment to flag down a server, who signals to him that she will be over in a moment. "No, my intention was merely to make an introduction, conversation, and that we should part ways having each made a potentially beneficial contact," Shinobi says. Akihiro's services may not be off the market forever, after all. "My name is Shinobi Takeda, as you'll see on my card. If I may ask, adamantium is, to put it mildly, rather difficult to come by; how is it that you came to possess so rare a metal, and as a set of claws, no less?"

*

"I'm not great with numbers, but schooling ended for me when I was fourteen." Akihiro says apologetically. "And the claws are mine, part of my skeleton. Heal fast enough that surviving the bonding process wasn't an issue, so they took care of my claws. Just had to make a deal with the devil. With some luck I'll be out of their service soon though." He does take both the bill and the card, going over the latter.

*

It's a fairly simple card, reading "Takeda Corporation", with Shinobi's name and contact information below. "I wouldn't call myself an expert on the subject, but deals with the devil rarely end when you expect them to," Shinobi offers. At that moment, the waitress finally makes her way over to the pair. "Two doubles of whatever you're passing off as your top-shelf vodka, love," he says to the girl, before looking to Akihiro. "Unless you have another preference?"

*

"Glenfiddich, but you know what I prefer doll." Akihiro shoots the waitress a wink, before turning his attention back to Shinobi. "I'm looking to break ties with my current employer soon." he offers casually, looking over the business card.

"I suppose what I'm trying to ask, is what would a Shinobi need a ronin for. I might not look it now, but I do come from money. My adoptive father was Nakamura Akihira," a successful man from a proud family who was found dead alongside his wife and child, their adoptive son nowhere to be found, "so naturally I'm a decent swordsman and was groomed for business. At least until shit went sour. I just want you to know that you aren't dealing with an amateur."

*

"Even better," Shinobi says, giving a nod to the young man's preference for scotch. "Two of those," he instructs the waitress, and turns his attention back to Akihiro. "Nakamura Akihira," he repeats, considering the name for a moment. "I remember reading about that tragedy.. it wasn't more than a few years ago. Terrible story. So you are the child who disappeared.. interesting." Shinobi taps his chin lightly, regarding the man. "In my business, one never knows when one might benefit from an association such as yourself. Sometimes an element of intimidation can go a long way, and while I am not afraid to get my hands dirty, if necessary, there are times when acting directly is not the best course of action," he says. "For example, I have a particular business partner, let's call him, who has expressed some.. dissatisfaction with the arrangement to which he has obligated himself. I could spend thousands of dollars, and great deal of wasted time, on lawyers and the like, or I could find another way to convince him to keep his end of the bargain without the rather nasty legal business. Thus, a short job for a man such as yourself." Shinobi taps his fingers on the surface of the table. "An hypothetical situation, of course."

*

"Four years, four months, and five days since I was Nakamura Akihiro, since I was Daken." Akihiro sounds bitter about it, his black eyes hardening slightly. "If I had known my father was the Wolverine, I'd have expected as much." He leans back in his chair, gaze settling on Shinobi now.

"Let's say I recently killed a warehouse full of criminals. Or that I made a habit of stopping crimes before I got mixed up with who I am now. Hypothetical of course. What separates me from those people at that point?"

*

"Absolutely nothing," Shinobi says simply. "And I would applaud your efforts. The world can be a lawless, violent place, and I have nothing but the greatest respect for those who would try to keep the peace, even if it is accomplished through, shall we say, less than legal means. However, if I misread you, then I apologize. You seemed to me the type of man who would not shy from such work, if it were offered." He offers a light shrug, and at that moment the waitress arrives with their drinks, setting the glasses down in front of each man. "Catch the moments as they fly, and use them as ye ought," he says in a nearly flawless Scottish brogue, lifting his glass toward Akihiro.

*

"Well, you aren't wrong. What would the pay look like?" Akihiro replies, taking his drink and shooting the waitress a wink. "You wouldn't happen to be mixed too, would you?" he asks now, raising his glass in return before downing it. "You're welcome to not answer that if you like."

*

Shinobi follows suit, draining the double in a single motion. "We're all a mix of something, aren't we?" He gives a smirk, setting his glass down. "I so rarely drink scotch. Not because I dislike it, but I rarely find myself in the company of one who appreciates it," he says. "It is equally rare anyone questions my heritage. You have either a keen eye, or a knack for guesses. I didn't question it myself, until I was a grown man, when my mother revealed the truth of my parentage. She is Japanese, fully, but my birth father was, I am told, an American. I take after my mother, however, and so my adopted father never questioned that I was his. A lie which worked out in my mother's favour, fortunately for her," he explains. "This, I tell you in confidence, of course," he says quite seriously, before changing the subject. "The pay would depend on the task required, but I can guarantee you would be well compensated for any 'favours' I may ask of you."

*

"Suppose if you're looking to have me complete favors for you, you should know I'm more than a fast healer with a set of claws. You need somebody tracked all I need is a scent, I can hear your heartbeat, and I can see in the dark." Akihiro tucks the card away. "My father was originally a Canadian I believe, everyone seemed able to tell with me. Guess that makes it easier to pick out the difference." He clucks his tongue quietly, "When I finish up with my current employer, I'll pay you a visit. May need a favor when the time comes though."

*

"You certainly seem to be full of surprises," Shinobi says with a smirk. "Please do. I believe our association can be quite fruitful, on both sides," he says, fishing into his pocket to draw a bill from his wallet, placing it on the table to cover the cost of the drinks, plus a generous tip. "Favours are, as they say, the currency of the realm, and I am happy to trade in such. Everything is an exchange, in one way or another." He stands, quickly smoothing his jacket and pants with his hands. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Howlett. I look forward to hearing from you, when you have taken care of your current situation."

*

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License