17: Namor McKenzie - Ryusaku Harada

He had dropped his jacket, trousers and fencing glove off at the laundry on his way back from the salle. Sweaty fencing clothing was always transported in a separate compartment in his fencing bag. This was a necessity to prevent rust stains from steel weapons.
He was now working on his face mask, keeping your mask clean prevents acne in teenage fencers, bacteria settling in the mesh get in the open pores while sweating. Simple face wipes were enough to keep the gauze clean and sterilised.
The moment he had been dreading arrived with a cheery greeting and an expressed desire of mutual companionship to come. Ryusaku did not really do friendship, he had no gift for it.
Ryusaku stood from his desk by the window, placing the fencing mask down. He straightened his shirt and turned to greet his roommate. He didn’t try to force a smile as he had been told on more than one occasion that it was not at all reassuring to see. Another social norm he had no gift for.
Americans shooks hands, they did not really do etiquette, so he proffered his hand and gave a small nod of the head which was casual and informal.
“Hello, I am Ryusaku Harada. It is good to meet you. I have taken this half of the room opposite the door. I hope that is agreeable to you. As you can see there is more than adequate space for a bed, work desk and personal storage.”