[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]It took a fair deal of effort on Ryusei's part not to let loose a groan as he spectated the brief interaction between their waitress and his companion. Great, she was in a mood now. Not that she wasn't always in [i]some[/i] kind of mood, but the fact she was already openly declaring that she wanted to go home indicated that she was especially grumpy. Had she been hoping for some kind confession on his part? They hardly knew each other! She had even been adamant on her part that it wasn't a date, so the fact she would get angry with him for rebuffing her was baffling. True, he had baited her in with a compliment before suddenly pulling back, but that didn't mean he was interested in her like that. He could at least take solace in the fact it wasn't, in fact, a date—having the girl storm off in a huff wasn't exactly a great look for anybody involved, and with how the last few weeks had gone, he wasn't sure his ego could take another blow like that.

Growing tired of the spiral of his thoughts, the young delinquent dragged his mind to the present. Shiori sat across from him, sulking in whatever darkness occupied her own mind. He couldn't exactly just sit there in silence, eat his food, and then go home. She was the closest thing to an acquaintance he had at Utsubyo High, and if he left things off where they were, he'd undoubtedly get the cold shoulder on Monday and beyond. Not that she wasn't usually at least a little cold to him, but if Ariyoshi was confident enough in her assessment that they were a couple to tease them, the rumor mill surely saw them as such too. He didn't want some sleazy headline about their torrid love affair ending over a sandwich at a local cafe plastering every page of the rag they called a school paper. Which meant he needed to salvage things, without somehow giving her the idea he wanted to be tongue deep in her mouth by Wednesday. 

[i]Crinkle. Crinkle.[/i]

He found his answer in one of the napkins provided. A few corners torn free, a little bit of rolling, and he had a neat little ball before him on the table. Putting his hand on the table just behind it, he let the tension in his fingers build for a moment, and with a sudden flick, sent it sailing across the table and past Shiori's head. Then another. Then a third. By the fourth ball, he was confident he had zeroed in on his target, and flicked the last one high, fast, and most importantly, directly at her forehead.[/indent]