Kyuden Shika

Last night he kicked ass at the geisha house. The prettiest girl tagged along and they had a lot of fun. So, following his previous classmates book of adulthood, today was getting shit-faced drunk day. First, he would need to find a proper wingman. Can't be drunk without someone to cover up.

So, he takes a deep breath and waits in the front of the establishment, reading the menu and sign plaques as that sweatdrop of doubt starts to form up.

Raizo... needed a drink.

Badly.

So he made his way toward the sake house with the dedicated purpose and intent of a man on a mission.

Yuzu notices the man approaching and takes a step back to open space and also measure him up. Bushi, battered, wrinkled. The boy could taste the bad mood emanating at each inclosing step. They share at least one trait, so far.

Raizo pulled up, noted the Imperial insignia, and bowed.

"Seppun-sama. I've always found it easier to get a drink inside of one of these places than out. Shiba Raizo. About to partake of one of Inari's other blessings."

A Shiba. That's a good sign. Similar schooling. The boy bows back to Raizo, "Shiba-san. An honor to meet you. I am Seppun Yuzu, Governor of Chisei. I am looking for a... wingman... to join me in my first partake of this sort of blessing in such a... eto... fine... establishment. Please, treat me well."

Raizo cocked his head to the side.

"You've never been to a place like this, Seppun-sama?"

A pause.

"Ever had a drink?"

"Thbbft!" He snorts. "Of course I had a drink before. Just not in this place."

He has never been in a sake house, of course.

"Just need to know your tolerances. Wouldn't do for the Governor of Chisei to spend the next day with his head in a chamber pot..."

He blinks to the older man, unaware of what hangover means. "Nani? Chamber pot?"

Oh no.

"Let me ask you something, Seppun-sama... have you ever been drunk? Standing-up, falling-down, sobbing about a puppy you had as a child drunk? Because it doesn't sound like you have. It, ah..."

Memories of miserable morning marches, with individual soldiers staggering out of column to vomit in the bushes welled unbidden to his mind.

"It can leave one wondering if a mujina has taken up residence in one's skull the next day."