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Summary
He’s handsome, Kento’s always thought that; even in his run-of-the-mill black suit and skinny tie, and his little lapel pin, which he’s now close enough to clock as a sunflower. Interesting.
“You’re a lawyer,” Kento says, skipping past the man’s opening question.
“That’s right,” he replies, his eyes lingering on the empty space beside Kento. It’s a silent request for an invitation to join him, but Kento’s not ready to take the bait yet. He doesn’t want to be left dangling on a hook.
Instead, he settles further into the booth, acting far more confident and sober than he is. “What kind of question is ‘do you come here often’?”
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Or, a salaryman and a lawyer meet at a bar.
