The Cafe was unusually busy for the time of day, with all of the tables having at least one occupant and a queue lingered at the counter. Each customer seemed to take an age deciding which beverage to have and whether or not to purchase a cake or pastry. Others lingered longer, hoping to take a seat at a table, but most had to depart in the end. The table occupiers seemed to procrastinate for just as long a time over their empty cups and plates until Aisha or one of the other servers came to clear away the table, making them clearly aware that they were loitering overly long. Ryota Greeneward felt his curiosity peak and offered a wide smile to Keko as he reached the counter. "Hey there, sis," he said, warmly. "One espresso to go?" She stated as she saw him. "Ouch, not even a 'hello' for your favourite brother?" He asked, pouting slightly. "Here's your espresso, please pay at the til," she said, passing him the drink in its paper cup. "Don't mind her, Ryota," Aisha murmured from behind him. "She's just in a bad mood." "What happened?" He asked as he passed a handful of change to the cashier. Aisha stepped aside to allow a customer to pass, before indicating that they both should move away from the crowded counter. He followed her towards the kitchen door, his eyes becoming drawn to the lone occupant of the table nearest it. "Some rumour began about a well-known novelist being a frequent patron of the shop," Aisha said. "And now all these people are coming here in hopes of catching glimpse of someone famous." "Said someone shouldn't have kept having meetings here with said someone's editor," muttered Keko, who having followed them then entered the kitchen. "We can't be certain that's what started the rumour!" Aisha called in after her. "But I'm sure it didn't help!" Keko retorted, from behind the closed door. "Anyway, while it has been good for business in some ways," Aisha admitted, "but we have been completely rushed off of our feet and we've all had to work through our lunch breaks." "Ah," Ryota said, knowing all too well how grouchy Keko became when she was hungry. "So... is the rumour true?" Aisha gave him a long look. "Do celebrities visit your hotel and do you share such information with the public knowing that they might value some privacy?" "Touché," Ryota replied. A loud crash came from the kitchen, causing Aisha to dive through the door to see what had occurred. Ryota stepped back and glanced again at the table nearby. The man who sat there seemed oblivious to his surroundings as he tapped away on his laptop. His coffee cup was empty, but he seemed in no rush to leave. Ryota had seen him here on other occasions, a willowy built individual with pale skin and long dark hair, usually tied at the nape of his neck. His glasses were loose upon his nose, causing him to adjust them upon his slender bridge frequently as he stared at the screen. He paused for a moment and frowned as he noticed his cup was empty. "May I sit here?" Ryota asked, seizing the window of opportunity. The man blinked, his black eyes widening for a moment, but nodded slightly before looking away. "I don't suppose you are this famous novelist?" "Huh?" The man responded, questioningly. "Oh, that rumour? I never thought such a vague rumour could cause such a hype." "And that's just a vague rumour," Ryota pointed out. "If a known Ikeman such as Zack Donahue were to grace this place with his presence, there would be no room to breathe in here." The man chuckled, the quiet sound lost in the background chatter, but still managed to trickle over his flesh. "I'm surprised that you haven't had people crowding you, seeing as you've been working here." "Oh, there's been one or two staring over here," the man mentioned. His voice was soft, though clear. "But they take one look at this and dismiss my presence." He tapped at the collar adorning his throat. Ryota tutted and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Foolish assumptions of the masses." The man tilted his head to one side in question. "The idea that you have to be an Alpha to be successful. I'm sure there are plenty talented Beta and Omega novelists out there, given the chance." The man just smiled, non-commitedly. "I'm Ryota Greeneward, by the way." Ryota belatedly introduced himself. "Yori," the man replied. "Just Yori?" Ryota asked, but the man just nodded, slightly. "Well, nice to meet you, Just Yori." He glanced at his watch and noticed that his lunch break was close to ending. "I hope to meet you again, sometime." The rising colour in Yori's cheeks was not completely hidden in the shadowy corner, Ryota felt himself regretting being unable to pursue this and having to leave. ***** I think I might be attracted to him, Yori thought to himself as he stood alone beside a table of champagne flutes, oblivious to the casual glances thrown his way. Tatsuya Himura had arranged for his grandfather's birthday party to be held in a luxurious function suite of a high-class spa hotel, the location of which happened to be in the heart of the city, not far from Himura Publishers. It had also been clear to Yori that most of the invited guests were in fact Alpha's from wealthy backgrounds. Tailored suits, silk ties, exquisite dresses and sparkling adornments, Yori felt that this was less a celebration and more a chance to show off in front of peers. Yori had come as himself, rather than as Ryu Kanuga-Sensei. Uncle Himura knew who he was and he didn't feel the need to become the target of husband hunting elite, who assumed as Tatsuya did, that he was an Alpha. Of course, his current appearance had raised a few eyebrows; a lone sheep amongst the wolves. It possibly didn't help that he was due his heat in a less than a month and his scent had began to become more alluring. Carefully, he avoided the offers of alcoholic beverages from tempted men and the poisonous glances of the women. "Excuse me," Tatsuya approached him not long after he had arrived, "might I see your invitation." Yori flashed the card sent to him by the president. It had come with a note, which Yori had wisely left at home; 'Please attend, I need someone human nearby or I might think I've been kidnapped by aliens.' Tatsuya took several moments glancing over it, undecided over it's authenticity. Reluctantly, he returned it. "Forgive my rudeness, I thought I knew everyone who was on the guest list." "That would be because Yori's name is on my guest list," Kenta Himura informed him. The small, wrinkled old man might have just turned 79, but his eyes were as bright as a much younger man. That much had not changed since Yori had first met him. "Uncle," Yori bowed slightly. "How are you?" "You would know if you cared to visit more!" The old man snapped, jovially, prodding Yori's chest with his finger. "Uncle?" Tatsuya questioned, his eyes wide, flickering between his grandfather and the man he had labelled as an intruder. However, before he could question further, a broad shouldered man, whose hair was silver at the temples approached with his daughter in tow, pressing introductions upon them. Tatsuya skilfully greeted the girl, outwardly directing his attention to her, whilst keeping Yori clear in his peripheral vision. His grandfather praised the man commenting on his 'lovely' daughter, before satisfied, the pair moved to greet others.