The Great Anime Hunt [Open]

Dealing with the sort of people whom browsed manga stores was an often exhausting affair. It was just another exhaustion for Seiji on top of a mountain of other worries, but it was good money, right out of the pocket of his brother's boss. Luckily for Seiji, the neckbeards mostly bothered his brother. They moved in like a herd of migrating whales and gorged themselves of the latest weekly shonen jumps, figurines, and whatever the hell else they got it into their heads to buy. When they found a target they liked, it was like watching a bunch of zombies in a feeding frenzy in some old Romero flick.

At the very least, it proved to be an entertaining way to spend an afternoon, a bit of lighthearted feeling better at the expense of lonely otakus to take the load off while earning a buck. Sometimes, the customers that were into boy love paid special attention to Seiji in his uniform, cutting a tall, mature figure in his green apron. The apron was, of course, decorated with one anime character or another from the latest seasonal sensation. Seiji didn't care for anime much himself, at least new anime, but he noticed they changed as soon as the shows that aired in the spring and winter began to gain traction. Running a hand through his hair, he made a show of adjusting boxes, straightening things out, and returning items customers had put down in the wrong section back where they were supposed to go.

All told, he was killing his afternoon in style. He took a moment to step into the back to get some supplies. On the inside, he found himself smiling at Takeda, who was doing his very best to put up with the army of otakus and neckbeards that were chatting his ear off about their waifus. Outwardly, he was as stoic as ever. He heard the chime of someone entering the store but did not pay it any mind until he walked out with an arm full of fresh DVDs to stock onto the shelves.

He happened to be going near the sailor moon DVDs, giving him a good look at her. His mouth opened slightly, pursing into a contemplative expression. For Seiji, that was as good as gawking. The lady was a classic beauty, looking like some painting that had stepped out of the canvas and into their drab little manga store in the shopping district. She was something else, whoever she was. Seiji stopped gawking for long enough to put the DVDs where they were supposed to go. "Hello." He said to her with that same flat voice, turning to look at her, his amber eyes focused on her blue orbs.

"Sailor Moon. Good taste." The words were delivered with very little cadence or expression. He almost sounded bored - or at least like that teacher that gave really boring lectures because he couldn't figure out how to inflect his voice worth a damn. "Get what you want quickly. Soon, the otakus will come. They want their figurines." Seiji shuddered, thinking back to his first encounter with a figurine out in the dumpster behind the store. "Do you need any help? I'm here to assist." A helpful little name tag was plastered on the front of Seiji's outfit, happily stating his name as 'Seiji Dalton', which looked like absolute gibberish in Kanji.

The girl talked, and Seiji listened. His expression remained stoney, even when she gave away the fact that she didn't know what an otaku was. It created something of a conundrum for Seiji. Would it be better to tell her the sordid truth, or to let her go on living in blissful ignorance? He was her senpai, he supposed. Seiji didn't really buy into the whole Senpai nonsense. He created something of a sensation among the first years when he talked to the third years like they were his equals, rather than someone to be admired. "I'll put it to you like this:" Seiji began, his voice gaining a single iota of enthusiasm, given his amused enjoyment of the subject matter.

"There's enjoying something. Going to a manga store, looking for volumes of a classic manga." He indicated towards Isolde and the rack of sailor moon manga, dvds, and figurines. "But then, there's enjoying something a bit too much." Seiji's arm moved dramatically, his finger pointing towards the counter, towards his brother with his angry expression, his dyed red hair, and the two overweight men arguing in front of him.

"I'm telling you, 02 is best girl!"
"That anime's like 2 years old, dude! Minami is where it's at!"

The two went back and forth, arguing, badgering one another. Seiji ignored them. That was not his battle to fight. Instead, he turned back towards Isolde. "Generally, anyone that enjoys anime and manga could be called 'otaku', but you really have to push it for your primary identity to become otaku, if you're familiar with the sociology term." It was a pleasure talking with her already, between what he got to talk about with her and the fact that she could manage to pronounce his last name correctly. Memories flooded back again, his first day of school, the way the girl showing him around called him 'Darton'.

It was almost enough to bring a smile to his face. Almost.

"The exchange student? I'm surprised we've never actually met before now. Yeah, I go to Futaba High, too." His even tone raised a single octave, his lips curled into the indication of a smile. "I remember having a meeting about you last year. The old student council president was all in a huff, wanting to make sure the school welcomed you warmly. You'd have thought you were the president's daughter or something." Seiji's dry little joke hit close to the truth, a fact he remained blissfully oblivious of as he continued. "You can call me Seiji, if you want. You don't have to call me Dalton. We're not in school, there's no need for huffy ceremony. I'm just a guy trying to help the lone pretty girl in a sea of fussy neckbeards get what she needs so she can get out in one piece."

Beat.

Seiji found the girl fascinating already, he had to admit. Not in any romantic sense, he could just relate to being in a strange place, barely knowing anyone, even if she, like him, had already been there for a bit. "Everyone's still big on faith back home in Luxembourg, huh? That's pretty different from most places these days." He looked back to the manga, to the pretty display they had of Usagi herself, smiling at them. Beside it was a smaller display of magic girl Nanoha with her trusty detective mirror. "I was raised Christian myself. Nothing fancy like the catholicism still practiced in the old world, just good old Methodist values like you'd find in the southern US." He paused.

"So. Missing volumes. Which ones were you looking for, Schroeder? As you can see, we have several copies of each volume of the series, along with a lot of the common figurines you'd find on online sites. If you have anything in particular you want that you don't see, we have a catalogue you can order from and pick up in the store, but," His amber eyes shifted to his brother again, and to the customers that walked in and out, most of which were fairly normal in spite of his hyperbole, "In my unprofessional opinion? Just order the figurines online. Saves you a lot of trouble, especially when you're in a big city like Sanyo where things don't take long to get delivered."

Isolde thanked him, which kept that lip curl that was Seiji's idea of a broad smile on his face. Despite that, he waved the gratitude off. "Don't mention it. I still have a lot to learn about Japanese culture myself. I just happen to see this little part of the culture firsthand every afternoon." The job had its perks, like the free access to the latest volumes of the few manga Seiji actually cared to keep up with, but it was more fun to act like it was all a harrowing war zone for himself and his brother.

He let her speak, nodding, listening to what she had to say. She spoke about going to mass and Seiji's mind waxed poetic about the ceremony that Catholics put into the worship of Christ and His Father. His faith in a higher power was important to him, and he found it strange to not have a direct avenue through which to talk to God. The subject soon changed, however, to Joan, or Jeanne as the series Isolde indicated liked to call her. Seiji hated Fate. Or rather, he hated the way that the more unsavory characters in the store got when that series was brought up. "You're one of the lucky few that gets to say your waifu is, in fact, pure, Isolde." Seiji joked. Her question reminded him of something Takeda had mentioned to him and a light bulb went off in his head. "Wait right here."

Once more, he delved into the back of the store. There were all sorts of spares of different things there, ready to be placed outside in case the neckbeards got into a frenzy that day and decided to buy up anything in particular. Seiji found the three volumes of Sailor Moon Isolde requested with very little difficulty. With that out of the way, he dug through some of their orders, down through the stuff that no one had picked up that Takeda hadn't decided to throw away. Finally, he held what he was looking for in his hands and nodded to himself.

Returning to the front, he walked back to where Isolde was and handed her the volumes. "Here you go. Got you some that haven't even been opened yet. Also, this." He held up a large box. On the front of it was an exquisite model of Jeanne, highly detailed. It was a 1/7th scale figurine, one that had cost someone a lot of money. Seiji found it strange that, months later, the man who ordered it hadn't came to pick it up. Upon further reflection on the matter, Seiji grimly reflected that the person probably passed away or circumstances changed so harshly that he couldn't get it. "Someone ordered this six months ago and never picked it up. So, take it. My treat. I'd rather you get it than one of them." A shiver went up poor Seiji's spine, thinking about all the abuse Takeda told him the statues those sorts of people bought might get.

"And, do me a favor, alright? Don't give away too many details about yourself to strangers, if you're no mere president's daughter. For all you know, I'm a bad person." Despite telling her to not treat him like a senpai, Seiji realized he sure was lecturing her like one. He sighed and rubbed his face, feeling the slight black bags under his eyes. "Do what you want. You're almost an adult."

"Oh." Seiji realized he hadn't gotten her a bag. He also realized she hadn't paid for his manga, but there was also the implication that stuff was a gift, too. Takeda wasn't going to be happy, but enough merchandise went missing anyway that he didn't particularly care. Besides, it wasn't like they got commission for this stuff or anything, nor was it like their boss cared all that much. "One bag, coming right up, Ma'am." Seiji gave her a mock bow, the sort of exaggerated motion lots of Japanese salesmen gave to their customers.

He walked behind the counter, got a bag big enough for the products given to Isolde, and put everything there for her. The two obese neckbeards were still arguing over something or other. The subject had apparently changed from waifus to which 'trap' was the best. These neckbeards sure had a lot of weird conversations.

"It's obviously Felix. A cat is fine too." One said, spouting ancient memes.
"He'll never beat Shimakaze!" The other retorted.
"Shimakaze's a girl, you fucking dumbass." The first replied.
"Tell that to all the crossplayers." The second neckbeard grinned smugly.
"Astolfo's the best." Seiji said insincerely, throwing oil onto an open fire. Both neckbeards turned on him, leading to Takeda yelling at them as he walked away, which turned their attention fully to him.

"Here you go." Seiji said blankly as he handed the bag to Isolde "That took a bit because I made the otaku mad." Seiji almost smiled. Her offer perplexed him. "You...want to know more about anime?" He asked. It was a rhetorical question. After all, he'd heard her perfectly. Isolde asking him that was like one blind person asking the other to lead them. He shrugged, though. At the very least, he was surrounded by material. He had to admit, just hanging out with someone from school, no strings from a club, team, or the student council attached, was a tempting offer.

"Sure, Isolde. I'll teach you everything I know about anime nerds. In exchange, I expect you to make a proper Luxembourg gentleman out of me." He sounded deadly serious, as he always did.

She took me seriously. Seiji realized as she promised to make a fine gentleman of him. Oh no. Despite his inner protest, he made no outward indication that he had the slightest bit of a problem with her promise to make him a gentleman. It might just prove interesting. Besides...with access to the right materials, Takeda and himself could start sewing themselves some suits. "Have you taken it upon yourself to make many men into gentlemen before?" Seiji would have left the question at that, had the men arguing near his brother not been wearing a particular accessory on their head. "M'lady?" With no indication of sarcasm, no smile or grimace, he grabbed a tuft of hair of his black hair and nodded as if tipping a hat towards her.

Her question about JoJo sobered him right up. Mostly because she'd managed to actually pick out the one anime that both Takeda and himself actually kept up with. "A good place to start? That's - hmm. I don't know. It's certainly one of the best series of all time." Which was true. JoJo was something of a phenomenon. Pointing towards the shelf with the JoJo volumes, he continued. "It's divided into parts that each tells a separate story. Most manga and anime, as far as I can tell, usually just tell a single consistent story. JoJo gets to stay fresh and reforge its identity every few years." He pointed to the volumes for Part 4. "This part is my favorite."

"I'm not the best teacher for all of this stuff, just so you know. My brother and myself just kind of work here, we're not die hard anime fans or anything. My favorite's still Cowboy Bebop and it's not even that popular over here, believe it or not. Oh, that's another thing. Some stuff that you'd expect to be super popular...just isn't. So even if something seems really good to your European tastes and sensibilities, remember that the Japanese are just plain weird." Seiji paused, realizing that he hadn't talked this much about anything to anyone, at least while he was off-duty, so to speak. Usually, he always had to be the stoic overachiever, taking notes for the president, quietly beating tail at kendo, and so on.

"Oh. Also, if we're just going to be hanging out sometime, we're going to need to exchange contact info." Seiji pulled out his smartphone. It was clearly a very, very old model. It even still had separate ports for headphones and a charger. Despite its age, the phone was well taken care of and protected by a thick gray case. "Unless you just want to hang out at school? I don't really have much time to do stuff there, between kendo, the health committee, and student council. I even have to work while eating lunch, usually." He admitted. Despite his normally dry tone, a hint of exhaustion seeped through in his voice.