Different Worlds [CLOSED][AKI]

Ideally, he would have had more time to get ready. As things were, Aki found himself briskwalking through the far-too-large carpark of his dance instructor's apartment complex, slipping into his dress shoes in the car, and finagling his tie into a Windsor knot as Gorou turned the Mazda into of the highway.

He ran through the list in his head, fingers slipping absently through the practiced motions of knotting the tie: He had emailed the guest list to the front-of-house, and stuffed spare printouts into his folder before leaving for dance class; the catering company should arrive in an hour; Akimoto-san recently got engaged, he'd have to find a way to congratulate her without stepping on the minefield that was her mother's distaste for her fiancé.

His phone buzzed. The notification beamed up at him, accusing: 4:00PM - Tachibana Flower Delivery. In the corner, his clocked blinked, the minute hand counting up to 4:04 PM.

Being fashionably late was something he generally preferred while he was the guest, and not the organizer. He had liked the Tachibana's plenty. Or, well, was suitably impressed by their floral arrangements, enough that he had hoped to stay in their good books, for the sake of future events.

He ran through his list again, eyes locked onto the clock at the edge of screen, as the minutes ticked up -- and blinked away, when he felt the car slow. 4:07 PM; being almost 10 minutes late to an appointment he had been responsible for making wasn't the worst possible first impression, but it wasn't a good one.

He peeked out of the window as Gorou's car pulled up in front of the building, just in time to glimpse what he assumed was the Tachibana's van, drawing nearer. He couldn't see any personnel he recognised; not either of the couple he had spoken to at the shop. But, there was a young man, idling by the entrance, and getting squinted at by the security personnel milling around the area. Aki weighed his odds: he was either a hired assassin, or someone from the store -- and Aki hadn't pissed anyone off recently. Probably. (He hoped.)

Aki took a moment to check his reflection on the screen of his phone. No stray hairs, Windsor knot symmetrical. Showtime.

He stepped out of the car, the heel of his dress shoes hitting the pavement with a confident click. With little preamble, he strode up beside Misaki.

“Are you the representative from Tachibana Flowers?” He tipped his head back, pupils flicking up and down the (oh, wow, long) length of Misaki’s frame, assessing. Up close, Something about the other boy seemed familiar, enough to give him some pause -- but Aki didn’t dwell on that sense of déjà vu for long. Chances were, he had spotted him when he’d visited Tachibana Flowers. “You’re... a little younger than I expected," he said, and then shrugged. "Not that I have any room to complain.”

Reaching into pocket of his blazer, and pulled out a small bundle -- a cardholder, black leather lanyard wrapped neatly around it -- and held it out to Misaki. "Hold on tight to this, will you? Otherwise, the burly men in black suits will barricade you from the building, and we're already a little behind, as is."