note: this is a introspective series that tackles a few quiet moments in the SPR gang's lives outside ghost hunting. it's more of a character study for me since it's been such a long time since i wrote anything ;-; i'll try to stick to canon as much as i can, but... please expect a few departures.
~the character Sotelo (who is mentioned briefly below) was shown in Fuyumi Ono's short story, "Millennial Kingdom."

Quiet Ventures

- John -

Once again, John stood in front of the biggest display of hair products you could ever find anywhere in Tokyo, right here at the fourth floor of the local Daiso. From floor to ceiling, an entire wall was stacked with boxes upon boxes and bottles upon bottles of different shampoos, conditioners and hair dyes. Sotelo, the head priest of his parish and his long-time mentor, was very particular about hair care—he's running out of it after all—and would regularly task John with the errand of buying his favorite brand of shampoo. Its packaging promised a new and improved formula for hair growth and vitality, and it smelled nice too due to its main ingredient being argan oil.

It was of no trouble at all for John to buy this for Sotelo since the store was near the SPR office, and the old priest would only ask him to buy the shampoo if he was already set to go to Shibuya so that it wouldn't be out of his way. Today had been a long day of investigating a haunted building as per usual, but it was especially taxing this time because he had tagged along with Yasuhara. John had to hang around all day just watching the college student "work his magic." Translation: he simply asked his acquaintances to do his research for him, and it involved a lot of flirtatious energy that John really was just not accustomed to.

After he and Yasuhara got everything they needed from the client's employees and the university library (their case this time was a haunted art store and they had a problem with disappearing paintings—John honestly wanted to just hand this case over to Hirota, but he was afraid that the detective might head on over to the office and challenge Naru into another debate-slash-smackdown), John headed straight here to Daiso, narrowly avoiding Yasuhara's invitation to karaoke with his friends.

John and Yasuhara were only two years apart and they were cordial colleagues, but admittedly it was hard for John to connect with him and truly become friends with him because their worlds were vastly apart. This was true even for the other SPR irregulars as well, but somehow it was just harder for John to talk to Yasuhara.

Yasuhara was a college student who aimed to become the most mediocre office worker ever—these were his words and not John's. He wanted to have a normal life just so he could coast through anything that came his way, and though he knew he could strive for more, he would answer that ambition only bred complications later on. He was living a normal life like any other, and now that he was in college, he was surrounded by friends, experiencing the best time of his life before the hardships of professional work would consume him.

John would never have that, and he would never relate to it. For as long as he could remember, he was already slated to enter the church and uphold his family's traditions. As the second son, his parents had offered him to the institution right after he finished high school, and he had known about this path to follow ever since he was a child—he accepted it, because it was the only choice he knew.

John, truly, was happy doing what he does now. He was following the Lord's will, and he had helped a lot of people in the past, and he continued to do so now. Sotelo's ministry hospital was on the road to actualization, and John was proud to say that he had contributed to the project from day one. He was happy and content, yet he would sometimes wonder . . . what would it be like for him to go to college and live an ordinary life?

Earlier, when he and Yasuhara had gone their separate ways, John purposely took the long route towards Daiso, so that he could explore the rest of the university. The buildings stood with the pride of sculpted magnificence, bringing about an air of importance to each and every one of them, and the open field in the middle of the campus was lively, full of the vigor of sportsmanship. It was midterms season, he was told, yet it was also Friday. Students were expected to offer their full attention to their exams, presentations and papers yet they were hard-wired to drop everything and enjoy the weekend—John could feel this clearly as he walked around campus, the air had an electric flair to it: an impossibly intoxicating mix of boisterous, nervous and tranquil.

It was harder, even more so, to ask himself "what if" when he was surrounded by the experience right that second. It would be easy for him to pretend. He could go back into the library again and read an incredibly confusing book on philosophy. He was even free to sit in at whichever class he wanted, Yasuhara once mentioned, as long as he kept quiet.

And yet . . . however much he would fantasize about this experience, it would be hard to make it come true. Regardless whether or not he was tied to his current work at the ministry . . . he was a foreigner, after all. He was easy to spot—it was impossible to blend in.

Living in Japan for three and a half years had equipped him with the necessary skills to communicate effectively and to live as seamlessly as he could in this society, but of course it was vastly different from having lived here his entire life. If he had taken up Yasuhara's invitation to hang out with him and his friends, it was inevitable that John would stick out like a sore thumb. He would be the center of attention, even as he would draw away from the spotlight. Oftentimes, they would simply talk to him to practice their English, disregarding the fact that he could speak conversational Japanese.

Now, well . . . It was no use for him to dwell on what had already passed, and it would be of no use to contemplate "what ifs" since he knew they were already impossible to begin with. It would have been nice, however, to have had even an ounce of ambiguity to his features . . . Like Naru, who continuously managed to blend into this society without any suspicion thrown toward him. Granted, he was probably originally of Japanese heritage anyway, but John saw him more as an Englishman, if he said so himself.

(And now, again, like last month, he wondered. Would it be enough, maybe?)

Here at Daiso, he descended the stairs and walked slowly towards the check-out counter. In his right hand was Sotelo's shampoo, and in his left was a bottle of hair dye. Might it be enough?

No. No, of course not. He left the store with only one bottle.

note: i will be doing one chapter per character. which character would you like to see next~?

((btw i hope you're all doing well despite everything))

p.s. i didn't realize it's been about two years since i last updated anything here ahaha... pro tip: don't take up literature in college if you like writing hahahahahah problematizing all the damn time does not do well for one's sanity !