what is true value [private]

"I'm sitting." Hiroko hated rhetorical questions, perhaps taking a moment to rest seemed unusual but it shouldn't need explaining. Or perhaps he meant why am I at the market? Another obvious answer, he admitted silently to himself. Nothing about this guy made sense, except that his uniform screamed Gotei lapdog.

"Do you swing that sword often, or is it just for show?" It wouldn't be the first time some thug tried to impose as an officer of the law. Still, there was an aura to this man, so Hiroko's doubts were unjustified. Hiroko just felt like nagging the poor sap for bothering him.

Arms swinging upward, stretching out as a yawn imparted from his lips, Hiroko consequently took to his feet and was standing just as soon as the other appeared. I never did like people who would walk up out of nowhere and sit next to you on a bench...

But more oft than not, those people have innocent intentions. Without an obvious excuse to stumble off, he aimlessly staggered forward before pausing. The crowd angrily forced him back to the bench, where he gave out a reluctant sigh.

"And just a few moments ago, they avoided me like the plague. Something's gotten into them..." Then suddenly it dawned on him that they thought he was a thug himself, wearing cheap clothes and boasting a substantial reiryoku. Perhaps they were expecting him to badger them over the slightest quarrel?

But then why stop feeling that way? Maybe because there was an office of the law sitting beside him now, a sort of countermeasure for whatever mischief Hiroko might have stirred up.

Could they have really thought as much? What was his worth to them, if his protection went unnoticed and his presence seemed like a malady of its own? Even now they seemed to resume their normal habits, as if whatever omen had been hanging over their heads suddenly vanished.

moogle.

"So touchy." Even now he could tell Eisuke was the trigger happy sort. He'd only meant to see if this guy was even more than some lapdog fetching groceries and running errands. Some people. Still, at least he seemed to think little of it, and even inquired more about him.

"I'm employed by the Kidoshu. We're usually responsible for things like the Dangai... has the Gotei released any official statements about the incident, perchance?" Does this guy even have a clue? There were a few reports of a commotion and a struggle, along with access to the Dangai being completely hoodwinked. Only a few exceptionally endowed Shinigami managed to squeeze their way inside.

"Name's Hiroko, by the way." He was always slow to give his name, even after someone gave their own. Hiroko had very rarely needed to give his name to anyone in his order; they generally refer to them by their name with surprisingly familiarity, or with some incognito alias to feign legitimacy and impress the newblood.

Why am I thinking all of this? Rubbing at his eyes, he could feel the crust ebbing away from them and forced this internal monologue to end promptly. Instead he rummaged through his pockets, trying to find a trinket to preoccupy himself with.

moogle.

"I don't drink, sorry. Taste just doesn't suit me." Not that he wouldn't appreciate a light buzz. Still, there was the matter of the Dangai. Komamura-taicho? He tried to imagine that massive guy trying to fit inside those peculiar tunnels. Not to mention the lumbering Bankai, should he need to quell any of the Dangai's defense protocols.

Would if I could be there to see him try... Absently tailing Eisuke anyways, he hoped to get out of the midday sun's glaring presence. Swiping his brow of perspiration, he clumsily brushed into a few passersby and plucked a small slip of paper from his pockets. Recommendations from a colleague.

... That's his advice? Soon enough they arrived at a sushi bar and grill house. Hiroko perked up at the sound of searing meat. My groceries are going to spoil if I stay too long. Dropping the slip of paper back into the folds of his clothing, and dropping himself in a convenient bench seating arrangement Hiroko settled down and set his bags beside himself.

"Should we order something to eat first?" Hiroko was gesturing for someone to come take their orders before divulging this conversation further. "There was something I wanted to ask, about the Gotei. Do the Captains supervise any of your training?" Most Kidoshu trained in solitude, for focusing reasons. Not once had he considered this normal behavior but more an adaptation of the Kidoshu's independent hierarchy.

moogle.

"I'll... have the same." I'm not sure what that even is, though. The cultural boundaries between some people was astonishing. Hiroko had still barely scratched the surface on modern cuisine by now.

Hmmm. So it's the same with the Gotei after all? By the way the Kidoshu seemed to operate, he always expected there was some secret mystery to ascertaining their level of prowess. Some sort of mystical relic that endowed them with all sorts of archaic knowledge. But that wasn't the case at all, evidently. Crap.

"So how do they ever take notice enough to seat you?" Perhaps that was a fraction of the paperwork they were always doing, approving missions and filing successful missions? It never really occurred to Hiroko what their paperwork might actually consist of until just now.

The 'Kake Udon' seemed to be steaming, which was a welcome sign. Hesitantly placing a forkful of noodles into his mouth, his verdict rendered mixed feelings. Not that it was unfavorable, but that it seemed too mild and not too unlike ramen. How expensive is this place!? He tried to follow up the conversation, but it took him a few moments to find the words.

"Well, either way I suppose it doesn't matter. The Captains haven't failed us this far in." Did I just jinx that? Eagerly finishing his meal, he wondered if he ought to insist on meeting up again. What if he thinks I'm being too much of a bum, though? It wasn't entirely untrue; a free meal meant a lot to Hiroko.

"I need to make sure these don't spoil before I get back home." He tugged at the bags resting against his ankles. Their telltale swishing sound with every movement made it painstakingly obviously what Hiroko meant. He was already out of the shop, stepping¹ outside into the streets.

Hmm, I should have probably thanked him...

Hopefully he didn't take it the wrong way.

moogle.