"Hmph." Akuma answers another customer, coming up to his collection of fruits and fish. He sells sometimes in order to buy tools, clothes or wrapping for his knuckles and hair. The customers come and go, and he's left with a decent amount of currency after for any extra things he might need. Akuma never minded the stares. He always did look extremely out of place.

Bright white hair in his older age, dark skin, and those piercing eyes. Not to mention the body sculpted through years of living off the land. Surviving.

But he's been looking forward to a certain customer. The warm sun in japan seemed to hit you just right every time you came up to him, and asked if he had any fresh fish or fruits. "I do." He'd answer coldly, emotionlessly—yet the was always the faint traces of warmth in his tone. It was calm, quiet.

You'd get the goods for discounted prices, and the freshest would always be kept back for you. Akuma always strived to see that content look on your face after a good sale. He wasnt even here to sell, at this point he's here for you.