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Seiji had spent his morning seeking out ways of distracting himself from checking his phone every five ******** minutes. His usual routine had worked for a while, but after his shower, with no classes scheduled for the day, he'd had to to get creative. when his phone finally buzzed(it was still pretty early, it had just felt like forever), his room was spotless, his laundry was done, and his homework was sitting in a neat stack on the edge of his desk. Junko would have been so proud.

The picture attached to the message made him grin.



He hit send, snicking to himself, and stood up to dig around in his closet.

Message sent, Seiji tossed his phone on the bed and reached into the closet to pull out one of his nicer pairs of black slacks. He hadn't worn them in a while, but they'd managed to stay nicely pressed buried near the back of his closet. The shirt he pulled out was a a simple, plain t-shirt in a solid red.

Peering at himself in the mirror, he was suddenly really pleased he hadn't bothered to get a hair cut in a while. It had gotten pretty long. the sides fell down past his shoulders, but the top was longer still. It needed to be evened out, but until then he'd work with it. Knowing the ghoul would appreciate it the ghost left the sides and back loose. The top was drawn back and secured with a pair of long pins that hung low, though there were a few long strands that escaped to lay along the side of his face.

Dark leather choker, his usual piercings, and a nicer pair of boots completed the outfit.

Reclaiming his phone, he headed out of his dorm and into town.

The boil came striding up with one hand in his pocket and the other raised in a short wave to the ghoul as he caught her attention. The closer he got, the easier it was to make out what he was wearing, and it was like being struck with a hammer between the eyes, twice. That was the dress she'd worn when they'd met up to talk about their split, and there was a sudden and irrepressible wave of anxiety that curled up with in his gut. It had his smile faltering just slightly, before realizing she'd worn the dress for him, and not as a reminder of something awful.

She did look really ******** amazing in it. He'd thought so then, despite everything, and it was still true now. Except this time, when he walked up to her, he was free to lay a kiss on her cheek as he withdrew his hand from his pocket to touch her arm, gently. "You look lovely." Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Hot.

"I'm glad you called." The smile was back, dark features earnest as he looked down at her. There had been a part, a small, awful little sliver of doubt at the back of his mind. It had whispered to him the night before, told him when she woke up she'd realize she was making a mistake, that she didn't really want to be with him again, but only felt bad for him.

Under the circumstances of their last meeting with her in that dress, could anyone really have blamed him for not being a fan of it? "Yes it did." She did look gorgeous in it, which was a big part of the problem before . Now? Now it wasn't a problem at all. Well, that was pretty optimistic of him, but he hoped things worked out, and there would never be another issue of Seiji's opinion of high fashion being tainted by unpleasant circumstances.

When she stepped closer he put his arm around her, holding against his side, and turning his head so when he spoke it was against her hair. "Always hungry." T'was the nature of his race.

"Do we have a reservation?" It was early yet, so even if they didn't it, it probably wouldn't take long to get a table, but he hoped they wouldn't have to wait. While he waited for her answer he led her into the restaurant, heading towards the maitre d'.

Splendid! No waiting. Keeping his hold on Junko, Seiji followed behind the little hostess as she led them through table towards a quiet little corner. He let the ghoul slip in first, chuckling at the look she tossed up to him before slipping in beside her and crossing an ankle over his knee, one arm stretching up over the back of the booth, a silent invitation for her to cuddle back up to his side if she wanted.

With his other hand he'd pick up the menu, looking through the listed entrees for about a minute before setting it back down again and resting his hand on his propped up ankle.

Their server arrived, a tall bogart boil that introduced himself with a smile and asked for their drink orders and any appetizers they might want. Seiji requested a water and a soda, then turned glowing eyes to junko. "Do we want an appetizer?"

A distracted Mistress was one that didn't interjected with colorful commentary, so he approved of getting something for Her, even chuckling softly as their server wandered off to put their order in. Once he was gone he'd look down at the girl at her side. She'd cuddled right in against him, pulling his arm down around her shoulders, and now her small fingers were sliding up along his scalp at the back of his head. It had him reaching up to touch her wrist, fingers tickling along that warm skin.

"You had a long day," he told her, voice soft. It had seemed like, as he'd looked back at it, she'd been holding onto that regret and sadness the entire time they'd been apart. She'd hid it well, at least from him, when he'd run into her some time after their split. Or suppressed it, like he had with all that hurt. Regardless, it had all come crashing back the day before, for both of them. Even Seiji had been exhausted by the time he'd hit his bed, and he was a ghost.

His lips found the side of her head, and he let the kiss linger a few long seconds before murmuring against her hair. "You dozed off towards the end of that movie you put on." He still didn't know which one. "So I tucked you into bed. Momo and Hikari were still snuggling, so I figured I'd just leave her there with you. Didn't wanna take her away from her...friend." His smile came through loud and clear despite the softness of his voice.

"Just take your time with it." Seiji's brand of unpacking usually spanned a few weeks. As long as it took him to grab a shirt here, a pair of pants there, until there was nothing left but some socks and underwear. Eventually he'd get through it all, and it would just end up in his laundry, ready to get washed, dried, folded, and put away, like he rest of his clothing. It was typically male.

He made an affirming hum at her comment on the ofudas. They had missed each other, it had been really obvious. It had just been a reuniting sort of day.

When she looked up at him he met that soft, emerald gaze, his own open, earnest. It felt like they were falling back into some natural routine, but they couldn't just pretend like the past year had just never happened. As much as he might had wanted to, if they were really doing this, if they really wanted it to work, they were going to have learn for the mistakes they'd made, and forgive the various hurts that had been inflected.

So yes, they has some talking to do. Though there were some things Seiji felt needed to placed into a box and closed up. Not forgotten, just left alone, because they could be toxic. Ruining what they were trying to rebuild.

But until such a topic was breached, he;d leave it alone. "Mm, I think that'd be a good idea."