Prince of Modeling
Summary: Echizen Nanjiro, a man who took the world by storm. The fierce beauty of Japan, he revolutionized the fashion industry as the man known as Samurai, until, he suddenly retired and disappeared mysteriously. Up till now, no one has known where he is. But he has passed on his legacy, to a young boy by the name of Echizen Ryoma.
This equals thoughts, sounds, and sometimes, flashbacks.
Rated K+ first , then T for language in the later chapters, if any.
Introduce, The Prince!
AN: Just a little idea that had popped into my head. I had fun writing this, especially the outfits. Tell me if this is good enough to continue by reviewing?
This equals thoughts, sounds, and sometimes, flashbacks.
Commence~
"So this is the place you wanted to send me to, oyaji? It's as boring as hell."
"Don't judge a book by its cover brat."
Two males stood in front of a modern day, white-washed building. The little sign perched on top of the building read "Seigaku Modeling Agency." For an elite agency so immersed in the business, it was surprisingly not as flashy as other agencies were. The cozy little building was nestled at the foot of some hills, somewhere in the suburban areas, not the city. That was surprising in all accounts, but not really. At least not to the taller and more unkempt of the two males. He was unshaven and dressed in a black monk's habit. The younger and the shorter male gazed uninterestedly at his surroundings, his stare rather blank. He was more fashion-forward than his father, due to the old man's insisting that he, as a model, should dress the part.
Speak for yourself, you bloody hypocrite.
He wore a somewhat formal-casual outfit, a tie between both. Black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top couple of buttons left unbuttoned, white long-sleeved shirt spotless shown below the dress shirt, a red tie, black knee length shorts with slight gray pinstriping, and black high-top converse. To complete this look, his ever-present white cap was settled onto the warmth of the boy's sun-soaked emerald, yet black locks.
"Remind me why we're here again, oyaji."
"Brat, I take you all this way to meet a quite influential elder of mine and this is the thanks I get?!"
"Not like I care. If this is one of your stupid schemes to set me up and humiliate me, then screw it, I'm going home."
"Oi, shounen. You're not going anywhere."
The unkempt smoking male unceremoniously dragged the boy into the shockingly vast lobby area by the back of the collar and dumped him on the ground. He then turned to the secretary at the desk, who had a shocked expression on her face.
"I would like to speak with Ryuuzaki-sensei please."
The secretary quickly regained her composure.
"You must be the special guest she mentioned. Do you need directions to her private office?"
"No need, but thank you."
The two men leisurely walked down the elegant hallway, not bothering to rush. The younger examined the hallway with a mild interest. The doors lining the hallways did not give any indication of what were hidden inside. They took a left and walked until the walkway had spaced out nicely and fully into a small courtyard outside, with a small fountain with trickling small rivulets of pure water in a mosaic basin. Small trees and little shrubs with blooming flowers and small buds were planted neatly and aesthetically all around the courtyard. Another sweeping look revealed that there were doors all around the square, under the overhang of the hallway that enclosed it. Echizen Nanjirou unhurriedly sauntered toward one of these doors. He knocked then entered, beckoning for the other to follow him. The other unwillingly complied, stepping in the spacious office. A rather large brunette followed him with her calculating eyes. This unnerved him. She had shrewd eyes that followed his every movement like a hawk, although you could not tell by appearance. A loud outburst startled him.
"So, Nanjirou, you finally decided to pay me a visit after 15 years. Or was it more?"
"You old hag, who would pay you a visit?!"
The two did some light-hearted bickering; it was obvious that they had known each other for awhile. After the middle-aged lady beat down Nanjirou with her words and he was sulking in the corner, did she turn to the other occupant of the room.
"So, we meet, Echizen Ryoma."
Ryoma gave a slight jerk of his head to her.
"Your achievements are impressive." She held up sheaves of papers. All of them contained information about the boy. On a couple, Ryoma could make out "Four-Time Winner of America's Junior Modeling Competition." Others held pictures from all the contests he had ever entered and other notes about him. All in all, Ryoma was kind of freaked out about how much this reminded him of stalking. Sure, agencies did need our background info but to that extent…?
I don't think so.
"Your father has seen fit to enter you into our agency."
Well, that line certainly shook up his concentration. He shot a death glare in the general direction of where his dad, where Echizen Nanjiro let out a "meep" of fear and cowered in his little corner. Ryuuzaki the elder proceeded to ignore the idiot and instead chose to watch this little scene in amusement. Imagine, the man who had once held the world of fashion in his palm, being made a fool of by someone younger than him by 30 years, give or take. Also, it was even more humiliating since that someone was his son. She raked her eyes over him. He had inherited his father's golden cat-eyes, but had a touch of his mother's softness to them. His body was slim yet he was still short, no doubt inherited from his mother, while he displayed the fierce aura and determination of his father. In technical terms, your perfect model stereotype. He's also got the cockiness. And he's got talent to back it up.
"Anyways, he and I find that it will be a good experience for you to join Seigaku Modeling Agency. We have many experienced and talented aspiring models here. How talented? You will have to find out for yourself."
And she launched into a tirade about the facilities, the staff, again the models, and random junk that came spouting out of her mouth. Ryoma only listened in with a vague interest, zoning out half the time. On the outside, he looked professional and attentive. He only started listening in when she talking about the contract.
Blah blah blah, Ryoma thought sourly. All she talked about was about the contract requiring him to live in the dorms here, following his sempai's rules, and other information.
"Now, your signature here. You know what happens if you sign though right?"
She looked him straight in the eye, before handing him the pen. He signed, with a feeling of dread and excitement of what to come.
END
Yes, I know it's short, and I left you at a cliffhanger, but I want to know if this is a good start to a good story before I get too immersed in it, and ditch all my other stories. I'm sure most of you won't like that. Thanks for reading!