Recipe for Disaster

The cheers of drunken men and their giggling women sneakily robbing them blind through seduction polluted the saloon. Many nearby residents submitted noise complaints to the owner, who was also the bartender, in order to stop the ruckus. Naturally, all of them were taken into consideration and ultimately tossed aside. Drinks were being bought by the dozen with shot glasses flying down the counter with strong liqour spilling all over. One of the glasses managed to bump into a a young, brown-haired boy's hand. He looked up with steely eyes at the liquid which smelled bitter. He casually pushed it further down the bar towards any lucky guy or gal to receive.

"I hate this place on a Saturday. I come here for quiet and end up being here on the worst day." He sighed. As much as he disliked the rowdiness, he couldn't leave. It was his only place to go after leaving Kiyoko in the Hidden Cloud. He put his chin in his hands, staring at cache of assorted glasses and wines. A pair of arms draped themselves around Yoshida's neck with lips nearing his ears.

"Hey—" the voice began. It was one of the women in the bar. She reeked of alcohol and cheap perfume. Yoshida grunted before lifting his hand up to stop her.

"I have no money for you to take, so go on." He informed bluntly. The girl frowned and turned away snobbishly, making Yoshida chuckle slightly. "I just want some quiet. Is that so much to ask?"