#escargent

( ✱ ) “I don’t mean to intrude on whatever happy family you’ve got going on here, but I am seriously lost, and it’s getting dark. Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I promise to pay the necessary fees.”

“And you look like a guy who knows what a good color is. What is up, my dude? Liking our café so far?”

He flashes the other a grin, waving a menu around before placing it in the hands of his patron. Otegine feels that he’s going to have a doozy of a day with this fellow, and it’s not only because of the hair color.

Not waiting until White Day isn’t a problem -- he’ll just be expecting double the presents next month! That’s how it works, right?

Typically he might raise a stink about his room being infiltrated, but if it’s for the sake of macarons, he can let it slide. As always, Arima’s choice of tea is impeccable: You can never go wrong with the student council’s butler!

The fireworks display was beautiful, but as the ballroom erupted into raucous cheers, Akoya found himself in need of a break. The wind outside is frigid; it pulls at his hair and sends goosebumps along his arms, shuddering his shoulders with a shock of cold. Perhaps he should have brought a coat, but it does feel nice against the flush of overstimulation that stains his skin. The fanning of his hands couldn’t quite account for the heat buzzing underneath his clothing.

In three months time, he’ll have been within this city for a year. That realization makes it tempting to partake in champagne, but he’s disinclined to risk the unsightly rash that comes with alcohol consumption. Instead he watches a separate set of fireworks blooming in the distance -- launched by someone who didn’t attend the ball, no doubt, but is celebrating in their own way. 

          Noticing his vice president almost immediately on the street, Kusatsu walked over to him. At first he hadn’t been sure it was him, thinking it was just someone that looked similar. However, in a city like this, he realized it wouldn’t be unusual to see those he knew.