The boy named ‘Tak’ stumbles forward, he bumps his knees against the table and I wince at the hollow sound of bone against wood but he ignores it. The words stop, half formed on Johji’s lips as he turns his attention away from me. ![]() Startled I take a step backwards, my hands seeking the comfort of the bar behind me. Suddenly he’s on his feet, his magazine drops from his hand landing in a heap on the floor. At first, though he looks at me, his eyes are vacant and unfocused but a wave of surprise washes over him in a moment. The boy is about my age I can tell from a distance that he is tall and his face is set into an indifferent mask as his eyes fall onto me. After a moments delay, a pair of eyes and a head of shining hair appear above its pages. Johji waves an arm over my head and I follow his gaze to a copy of ‘Shounen Hop’ propped up in the corner. ![]() Johji: “Then do you know Tak? He must be about your age. MC: “Yes, about 10 years ago, I’ve just moved back into the area.” I stand straight again clasping my hands in front of me, nervously. You lived here when you were little, right?” Mr Chakura: “Call me Johji, and there’s no need for the formalities. MC: “My name is _, Thank you for having me, Mr Chakura” I give him a big bow to hide my flushed cheeks. His longish hair falls gently across his face and his teeth are so white they’re dazzling. When I look back up from my hastily scribbled note he has leant forward and is resting his head on his hand.īartender: “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” His smile is comforting and I find myself shyly smiling back. I’m looking for…” I hurriedly pull the map back out of my pocket and locate the landlord’s name. The gently lit room is almost empty except for a few patrons soft music issues from a radio that rests on the bar and each table has a small vase with a single flower positioned somewhere around the centre.īehind the bar stands a man in his twenties, his gives me a beaming smile and I head in his direction.īartender: “Hey, there. ![]() Inside the air is cooler than it is outside and I immediately feel better. I take a big steadying breath, closing my eyes for a moment, before I place a hand on the door and give it a gentle push. Nerves rush over me as I look up at what is going to be my home for the coming years whilst I study. The Black Ship is a cosy looking café nestled into the shopping district with comforting fixtures and beautiful window boxes. When I finally arrive in front of the Black Ship I heave a big sigh of relief, my day may not be over but at least I’m reached my destination. ![]() Having been insulted by the women in the flower shop, teased mercilessly by the surly boy in the cake shop and almost tackled by a frustrated restaurant owner and a delinquent, I am starting to feel like this town really is a lot different from what I remember. (Expect this to be sickly sweet and potentially poorly written) What would happen if each of the boys immediately recognised the MC and admitted how they’d been feeling since she left? Here’s what I thought I decided to start with a series of headcanons for the wonderful men of Voltage’s ‘Dreamy Days in West Tokyo’. Over the last few days I have been having a stab at flexing my creative muscles by trying my hand at some headcanon writing for some of my favourite Voltage characters.
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