[center][h1][color=black]T[/color]OTSUKA [color=black]R[/color]YUSEI
[color=black]戸[/color]塚 [color=black]竜[/color]星[/h1][/center]
[hr][right][color=gray]introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.[/color][/right][hr]

[indent]As the seconds ticked on, Ryusei found himself growing impatient. How long did it take to figure out what you wanted to order? He knew girls tended to be indecisive, but there was only so much on the menu. Before he could do something stupid and hurry her along, however, another approached the duo. He hadn't formally met her, but he was almost positive he had seen her somewhere around the school. Hell, she was probably in their class, if he managed to recognize her face at all, as he understandably didn't spend much of the week attempting to meet new people. Now that they had been formally introduced, she certainly made an impression; her smile made him uneasy, if only because he was unused to seeing it plastered on the faces of people just meeting him. Not if they weren't trying to work some kind of angle.

[color=c0c0c0]"Nice to meet you,"[/color] He offered, although it was a tad curt compared to how warmly she had welcomed him. Perhaps that curtness was well earned, as no sooner than he had given her his response, she decided to pipe up and mention the damn [i]date[/i] thing again. He knew the optics of the situation were obvious enough—why else would he constantly feel the need to remind himself it wasn't one?—but she didn't need to go saying it out loud. Dating meant he was interested in her, interested in setting down roots here. That was not something he was trying to do.

[color=c0c0c0]"It's uh, not a date,"[/color] The youth muttered, suppressing any possible heat in his cheeks through willpower alone. Gramps had already embarrassed him enough that morning, and he didn't need Shiori getting the wrong ideas because he couldn't keep himself in check.[/indent]