Miroku tucked his off brown plain shirt in as he exited the modest novel he had been calling home for the past few years. Helping the elderly had been a rewarding experience for him, but today it was his turn to go into the market and get some more supplies. Taking a woven sack with him, Miroku checked his inner pocket for the stash of coins hidden in it and then headed off, into the direction of the main market area.

On his way, he passed many a destroyed houses, a recent aftermath of some devastation he heard about in the area. Miroku himself was inside the elderly home tending to the old people, making sure they were taken care of and that they would stay away from the infighting or whatever it was that happened earlier in the month. Entering the market main area, Miroku took a deep breath before heading over to where the medical suppliers would be at.

It should figure that Aya had managed to get herself nice and lost. She followed Zane and Kanade into the Rukongai areas, but the city quickly became a maze, and before she knew it, Aya had made a wrong turn, and suddenly the buildings loomed over her, looking each and every one the same as the one before. She knew she was somewhere within the third district, but beyond that, her sense of direction was failing her.

With a sigh, she sat near what seemed to be a marketplace. Quite a few patrons ambled about as mongers of all sorts shouted their wares and prices. A few took notice of her Second Division uniform, but most just assumed she was there on business and paid no heed to her rather nervous expression. Most Shinigami would have confidence when amongst the Rukon citizens. Aya, though, was mostly afraid of being more lost when night should fall.

Miroku looked down at his list, checking off medical supplies, while looking at what was left. He got the tools for the expansion they wanted to put up on the house, some clothes, trinkets to help spruce up the hovel. He saw all he had left was some food and a little more collectable shopping to do, and hefted his bag onto his shoulder. As he walked around, he noticed a few shinigami here and there.

While he would never openly admit it, he did sometimes wish he himself was a shinigami, helping keep the peace in the city. Unfortunately, while Miroku was daydreaming a seam started to undo on his bag, coming slightly undone as a few medical supplies and pieces of clothing fell on the ground. Sighing and shaking his head, Miroku put the bag down and started picking the items up, now having to add some tailoring supplies to his list as well apparently.

Internally, Aya scolded herself for not asking how to get back to the main part of the Seireitei, but she reminded herself that it would have required showing the Rukon citizens that she didn't really have the control she should have in the situation. She was a shinigami. There was a reputation to maintain, and if she showed them that she had gotten lost, well, that might damage how these people saw her kind.

She contemplated this a moment longer before the sudden spillage of one person's supplies interrupted her. A bottle from the bag filled with a powder rolled over towards Aya. A crack had already formed in the bottle, and the powder had spilled out in great amount onto the cobbles. Aya attempted to halt its movement, but already more than half had spilled from the broken container.

She recognized it, though, as a component of a medicinal salve she often used when treating patients. Admittedly, she avoided treatment in her own division whenever possible, but, as she started towards the man who had lost the supplies, she fumbled about in her own bag, wrapped around her, for some she had spare. "I... Err... you dropped this, and most of it spilled out, but... i-it's willow powder, isn't it? For the flu? I have some with me..."

Miroku looked up and saw the image of a shinigami in his eyes, a defender of the peace in this fair city. Looking at the bottle in her hand, he sighed and took it from her. "Yes, it is. I had bought some because a few of the elderly are sick that I help take care of, and we needed more of it." he said, but he also knew the price of it.

"If you would be willing to part with some of it, I would be honored to take it." he said, as he rummaged in the bag and pulled out a smaller, but empty bottle. He exchanged bottles with the shinigami as he gave a weak smirk at the crack in the bottle. Letting out a heavy sigh, he noticed the traffic was starting to pick up in the market.

"And I still have more shopping to do..." Miroku said softly as he hefted the bag on the side of a wall and started to examine the seam that broke in the bag. "Sorry, my name is Miroku. You wouldn't know much about tailoring..or even a tailor shop around here would you?" he asked the female shinigami as he stood back up.

Aya took a moment to retrieve a glass bottle of her own from her bag. It was ornately decorated, a sign of her family's minor wealth, with a lizard curled around the base, glass eyes watching predatorialy. She simply gave her bottle to him, knowing there was more than enough housed in the second division's supplies. The cracked bottle could be repaired by a glassblower, she figured, though she knew no blower herself.

Could she tailor? Well, maybe not a dress, but she could certainly sew. Her noble upbringing had taught her that much. "Nakao Aya, Shinigami of the second division," she mumbled out. A forced smile came to her lips, not because she was not genuinely cheerful in demeanor, but instead because she did not often smile. It was not a natural state for her. "I... I know my way around needle and thread." She spoke slowly, avoiding her natural stammer carefully. She wanted to make a good impression on this man. She wanted to feel as if her skills were wanted here.

She hesistated for a moment, making as if to examine the bag herself but stayed her hand in midair. "I... err... I could possibly f-fix it. It would... would save you time for your shopping." Despite her nervousness, her hand was actually perfectly steady in the air. It did not shake a bit, though the same could not be said of the rest of Aya's body. Her brows knit together, forming already well-worn worry lines on her face. She was actually rather terrified at how forward she had just been with him.

It was almost as if she wasn't very good with people. D:

Miroku eyes widened as he looked at the decorated bottle. Certainly more valuable then anything he had seen before. He slid it inside a pocket of the belt he was wearing before getting closer to the shinigami and the bag. "I would appreciate the help Aya." Miroku said calmly with a smile as he looked around at their surroundings.

"But, unless you have some needle and thread with you, that shop over there looks to be our best bet." Miroku said, pointing to a shop that had plainly decorated sheets and baskets adorning the outside of it, probably to attract customers no doubt. He looked over to see the girl starting to seem...scared? Miroku only smiled as he looked closer at the weave that was broke to see what needed to be done to it.

Hah. Did she pack needle and thread? Could she call herself prepared to sew a wound if she didn't? Fie! She was a shinigami of the second division! Simple tasks like these were beneath her! This was something that Wani, her predatorial guardian, told her often. She was regal, and she was to act as such.

Of course, indignity was a feeling unknown to Nakao Aya. Instead, her consternation grew as she delved into her satchel. "O-of course, Mis-mister Miroku... sir." She stammered out the honorifics as she finally fished the spool and needle from their hiding place in a leather pouch near the bottom. "I-I'm afraid I don't have thread of a matching color though..."

Think, girl. Think!

"W-we could step in and I'll f-find good thread for it. You don't want it... want it coming loose in the future..." She wrung her hands, spool of thread and needle still clenched tightly. She had just exposed so much of her personality to a complete stranger. He would think her some kind of false shinigami. After all, they were the protectors, right? They maintained an air of composure in dire situations.

Interacting with a handsome man in an unfamiliar marketplace was more than dire for Aya, though.

Miroku nodded at Aya as he took the bag and hefted it in both of his hands, the open side facing up as he got his balance. "Alrighty then, let's go." he said as he took a step forward and then another, navigating the short way to the shop across the street. Indeed, as Miroku suspected, it has a variety of tailoring supplies, not just needles and thread, but weaves and ropes and other things for everyday use in a working environment.

"Well, let's start looking for some matching thread." Miroku said as he adjusted the bag and started looking around, eyeing a few things, but still looking for that thread. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shopkeeper eyeing him hungrily, worrying Miroku, as this person may just want money more then anything else.

Aya fell into step behind Miroku, wringing her hands nervously. What had she talked her way into? This wasn't her! She simply was the bystander, doing what she was told if someone spoke to her and otherwise leaving well enough alone. Still, something had compelled her to speak to this man and offer her services. What that had been puzzled Aya and only served to make her more anxious. The lines of worry were ever deepening on her face.

As they entered the shop, Aya's quick eye scanned purposefully around the walls. "Something... a dark brown. Thicker b-but not so thick that it can't be sewn by hand," she mumbled, running a hand along the thread lining the far wall. She glanced over at Miroku, hoping to garner some kind of approval or disapproval based on his expression. "Th-this amber thread is about the same as what is on there."

Miroku nodded as he walked over to Aya and looked at the thread she was pointing out. He placed the bag next to it and compared them. "They definitely are near the same color, that's good. Will make the job less noticeable. My only worry is this shopkeeper, I don't trust him. Be sure to be on your guard for any shenanigans or dupes. Also, if you can think of anything else for it, let me know" He finished as he twirled the thread around his finger, testing its strength. Definitely good enough for the bag. Miroku took the spool of thread and walked over to the shopkeeper, engaging him in conversation while putting the spool on the counter.

Aya's gaze shifted to the shopkeeper. He was eying them. That much was clear. It made sense for merchants to desire money, and in this area of the Rukon, not that Aya actually knew, it wouldn't be uncommon to find one perhaps a little short on funding at the time.

"I-I'll keep an eye on him... I... don't know what to do about it, though..."

Truth was, Aya didn't know people. She had simply studied her own division enough to see their habits and which spaces were most likely to contain chatty individuals. Out here in the Rukongai, she was lost, somewhat. And, of course, her only anchor was Miroku, the one for whom she had come in here. Miroku's efforts had required her expertise, and thus, purposeful, Aya was somewhat excited. She felt a flutter in her chest at the idea of her being useful to a random person.

She kept glancing back over at Miroku all this time, and as she did, her face got flushed from embarrassment. Her excitement was inwardly focused, a satisfaction from contributing to a task, and she realized she was acting awkwardly. A social faux pas would not set her in good graces with this Rukongai man.

And Aya was a fan of graces of a superior quality.

"Y-you know... I... I could sew pouches into it. Th-that way if the main seam broke, you wouldn't necessarily lose everything," she offered, wondering why she even said that. She was just so eager to help, and, wringing her hands nervously, she remembered that sometimes that caused her to offer unnecessary things.

Miroku took out a small purse from his belt as he dumped a few coins on the counter and turned around, having finished...aggressive negotiations with the shopkeeper. He looked at Aya as she talked, and did nod in approval. "It definitely sounds like a good idea. Let's go back outside now." he said, as he led the way, heading out of the shop and into a small alley way, devoid of life except for the random bypasser here and there. "This looks quiet enough." Miroku said, laying the bag on the ground and pulling out the newly acquired thread, then sitting down.

'"Okay. Bag check, us check, thread check, needle check. Anything else I'm missing?" He asked the female shinigami, wanting to make sure they had everything before starting to sew the bag back together,

Aya nodded as Miroku suggested they leave. He had paid for his thread and supplies, and the shopkeeper seemed more than eager to have them out for some reason. It was as if he didn't want to get business. Aya had little experience out here in the Rukongai, though, so she wasn't entirely sure how to read such a person. It was alien to her.

And Miroku was a little odd to her suddenly as well. He reacted in a very terse manner, but he reminded her a little of her Captain. He was kind and liked to smile, and Aya felt a little more comfortable when he asked her a question. She felt like she could answer in a competant manner, and that made her feel desired.

Of course, she had just missed his question. Aya had been following him without even thinking about where they were going. "Oh," she started when she realized he was waiting on her to respond. "Um... Anything you're missing? I don't think so. Sewing is a very straightforward process. I can even show you so you don't have to find someone to do it for you next time..." She smiled a bit more, still fairly satisfied that she was suddenly useful, and she took from him the bag and thread.

She ran the thread through the eye of the needle and tied the loop tightly. "Now," she started, regarding the bag carefully. It was like surgery, right? As a child, she had done this on her own dolls. "It's really simple for bags. They're sewn on the inside, so if we flip it out... We get this." Aya made to turn the bag's torn edge outwards, careful not to spill stuff onto the ground for Miroku. "And then when we sew the inside, it'll be simple to just pull it back around so you can't see the seam well..."

She continued like this, glancing up every so often to get a glimpse of Miroku's face. Was he paying attention? Did he seem interested in her work? She wanted to feel validated.

Miroku watched as she started to stitch the bag together, explaining to him the process of sewing and its intricacies..or at least the basics. "Well, it's probably easier for you. My hands are bigger and aren't exactly the best for delicate work." he said as he looked over the now stitched bag. Looking at the finished work, Miroku took the bag and gave it a tug, the patch job definitely holding as he slung it around his back again.

"Thank you very much Aya. It looks like quite the fine job putting the bag back together. However, this errand has took way longer then I had expected. I need to get back soon and deliver these supplies, and still get more." He said, bowing to her in thanks. "I hope to see you again soon." he said, before making a dash out of the alley and back towards the house. He did still have more errands to do, especially in the Second District...

[exit]

Disappointment.

That's what Aya felt as she watched a rather refreshing interaction hurry away from her. The normally timid Second Division member felt validated for the first time since she had talked with Harupia some number of years before. Elation from doing something useful to someone else shot through her like hot needles, and she liked that feeling. Now, though, Miroku had gone, and she was left standing in the narrow alley alone again, just as she had started.

Of course, something had changed now. No longer was Aya afraid to find this man in an open street. Well, perhaps she'd be afraid to initiate contact, but he had also validated their contact at a later time with his final words. He hoped they'd meet again soon. That excited her, a feeling she was mostly unfamiliar with. She had spent so long being afraid of interaction, purposefully dodging others, and this had struck a chord with her.

"I'm looking forward to it, too..." she mumbled to herself as she walked away.

The shinigami woman headed away from the alley then, somehow finding her way suddenly. She felt as if she might skip down the road, though her throat clenched tight at the thought. Skipping certainly was not something she was prepared to do in sight of the populace at this point. But she still felt as if her feet might betray her. Nevermind the deep-voiced growl from within that told her this feeling was weak.

She'd had fun.

[Exit]

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Aya - 8

Miroku - 8

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