Seohyung arrived with minutes to spare. A few people were already there. He’s had tea with two of them before. The sword woman whose name escapes him and Skygge, in his Yamato Autumn Collection suit. He knew O’Connell from regular missions. The others were new to him, the blond man smoking in the back of the garden, the feminine boy in a dress, and the small boy that excitedly introduced himself. Seohyung followed the kid’s greeting, until he said an English name then a Japanese name. He wasn’t well versed in English passed [b]Hello[/b], [b]Goodbye[/b], and [b]My name is[/b]. English wasn’t a class he remembered much from middle school and only learned enough to pass the tests. He vaguely remembers given names are first, then the last second, but the boy spoke Japanese, so he didn’t see the point in greeting him like he couldn’t. He must not have been raised here or he wouldn’t have to think too hard about how to greet him and his manners were shit. 


“Hajimemashite, Hyuga-san. Kamenashi Seohyung desu.” He bowed forty-five degrees, then straightened up.  His chest tightened up, his breaths slightly shallow, and his palms were sweaty. He needed to move, before Hyuga got the idea to say something about his name, so he went to stand by his seat.


Skygge sat at the head of the table, brush in hand, writing something in kanji. It was a poem, but he didn’t recognize it. Can’t say he knew much poetry to being with. Seohyung kept his focus on important things: training, missions, and fashion. Anything else escaped him. Once Skygge was done he greeted them and allowed them to sit. Seohyung sat in a chair to Skygge’s right. He didn’t like being this close to him. Skygge has gotten on him about his training and mission conduct on plenty of occasions. Seohyung wouldn’t say he hates him, but their interactions are unpleasant to say the least and being this close makes him anxious after the stunt he pulled today. But he didn’t want to move, it’s the seat he always sat in to get a close enough look at Skygge’s High Tea suits. There’s a lot he could say about his superior officer, and impeccable fashion taste was one of them. The Yamato Collection wasn’t his favorite by Fukuto Shiruku, but it was no less beautiful than what she usually produced. Though his wages are decent, he still doesn’t make enough to hope to buy one of her outfits.


Out of the corner of his eye he caught the new foreigner approaching and frowned when he put out his cigarette on his shoe. He could only guess he was American. Shit manners seem to be common among them. He ignored the foreigner’s attempt at a friendly smile and poured himself some green tea instead and put a biscuit on his plate. The sweets didn’t appeal to him. Sweet things made his teeth hurt. 


Seohyung kept to himself and listened in on everyone else’s conversations. The feminine boy in a dress's English was atrocious. He couldn't understand much other than [b]super[/b], [b]cool[/b], and [b]guy[/b] but nothing added up. This was already a trainwreck. 


Between sips of tea and bites of his biscuit he kept his eyes on Skygge’s suit. The golden embroidery stuck out the most against the black fabric, but that wasn’t the best part. It was the subtle black design that went unnoticed unless you looked closely. A hallmark of Fukuto’s works. Less was more and nothing said that better than subtlety. What he wouldn’t give to feel the soft fabric on his finger tips and trace the design from sleeve to chest and all the way down. 


It didn't help that Skygge's suit was tailored to fit. Broad shoulders accentuated, waist narrow and snug in the waist coat. He caught a glance at his thighs in those pants when he first walked into the garden. It was almost too bad he couldn't get a look while he sat. His face flushed, but he didn't stop his gaze. Did Skygge have the blue one? It was his favorite in the collection. The blue tie with silver embroidery was a nice piece on its own. Maybe he could buy it separate, even though he wasn’t a fan of ties, one from Fukuto would be worth it. He'll have Usagaya look it up later.