[Some would say he hated nice things, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong. However, Hanamiya did enjoy nice girls. Not the sort who went running to help every injured animal or homeless trash on the side of the road, but the sort who listened to whatever a guy said. Idiots. Those girls were his favorite.
He certainly hadn't found himself a part time job. Nor was he wandering; Makoto had a very specific goal. Destructive impulses, test of intellect, or simple boredom - call it whatever - Hanamiya was acting on the urges that drove him every day.
Stepping into the bakery, he gave the girl behind the counter a polite smile tinged with shyness. He would return whatever greeting she gave him before approaching the display and peering down with incredibly feigned interest at the contents.] Do you have any cinnamon rolls? [Whether or not he saw them therein, the question would be asked. Either he was an cute lost boy who needed help, or a customer making a special request. Both of which gave her ample opportunity to show him how willing she was to bend to him.]
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He certainly hadn't found himself a part time job. Nor was he wandering; Makoto had a very specific goal. Destructive impulses, test of intellect, or simple boredom - call it whatever - Hanamiya was acting on the urges that drove him every day.
Stepping into the bakery, he gave the girl behind the counter a polite smile tinged with shyness. He would return whatever greeting she gave him before approaching the display and peering down with incredibly feigned interest at the contents.] Do you have any cinnamon rolls? [Whether or not he saw them therein, the question would be asked. Either he was an cute lost boy who needed help, or a customer making a special request. Both of which gave her ample opportunity to show him how willing she was to bend to him.]