"Seems like you lost something.", Tomoe spoke, nudging the ball in the child's direction and allowing it to roll the rest of the distance.
As the child got closer and retrieved his ball, Tomoe could notice more defining characteristics. Namely, his arm had bruises along it and his clothes were absolutely filthy. The Joyan's eyes sharpened at the sight, knowing the kid was another victim of circumstance. With the youth having gotten his ball back, he ran off into the distance and eventually out of sight.
"Figures.", Tomoe muttered, returning to his sky-gazing.
How many lives had he hurt by doing nothing? More than a few. And he'd likely hurt more to come in the future.
It was then that he felt extra weight press against the bench. Looking to his side, Tomoe saw an older man sitting next to him. He didn't hear nor feel the man's presence, so something was off. His silver-grey hair gave off the feeling of, "old but not wanting to admit it", and his black horn rimmed glasses stood starkly against his white and grey business attire.
"It's a shame, isn't it? What happened here.", the man spoke, his gaze now locked on Tomoe.
Not expecting conversation, Tomoe wordlessly nodded his head in a gesture of agreement. He was curious to see where this was going.
"Doesn't seeing the commoners in such a state make you want to do something about it? Quite frankly, there's not enough support from the government to rebuild with any haste.", the man continued, pulling out a pen and notepad and beginning to tap one against the other.
Tomoe looked down to see the man sketching without another word. The Joyan shrugged to himself and leaned back into his side of the bench, not bothering to respond. The pair was seated as such in silence for a while as the sun began to set, until at last after what felt like nearly an hour the man exhaled a sigh and put his pen down. Tomoe's vision, focused on the sky, narrowed in to a notepad being held in front of his face. On the paper was a rough sketch of a glorious metropolis with light emanating from it, and a gigantic pair of angelic wings eclipsing it. Tomoe shoved it back towards its owner.
"Ever hear of personal space, pal?", Tomoe exclaimed, looking at the old man with full attention once more.
The reaction stifled a chuckle from the man, who withdrew the notepad back into his overcoat's breast pocket.
"Don't you think it's about time you did something noteworthy, Tomoe of Fairy Tail?"
With the mention of his name, Tomoe leapt to his feet and unsheathed his katana, pointing it towards the unfazed gentleman.
"Alright, that's enough. Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?", the samurai said with his eyes now daggers.
The man stood from the bench slowly with his hands in his pockets, a more stern expression across his features.
"You may address me as Bifrons. I'm an associate working with the Rune Knights, and I was told to follow up with one of the guild mages who has all but stopped working. Seems motivation is necessary, so they ordered me to pay you - yes, you - for the simple task of trying to fix your own inaction."
Taking a break from speaking, Bifrons pulled out a cigar and lit it.
"Imagine that for a moment, if you would. A world that pays you to simply redeem yourself. That's the modern Era for you."
Tomoe found no deceptions among Bifrons' speech, or little enough for it to matter. The rapscallion's eyes softened as he sheathed his blade.
"...What work?"
Bifrons, after taking an exhale with his cigar, nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"Simple. Help the commoners in any way you can. That's easy for someone like you, right? I'll meet you back at this bench in a day."
Tomoe was left to his thoughts, pondering the validity of the man but ultimately deciding that if there was pay it didn't matter. A pinch of money wouldn't kill him.
Gathering himself, the Joyan once more ventured towards one of the districts hurt heavily by the invasion - the one he was charged with defending.
WC: 1059/2000