Nezumi didn't often find himself stumped. He just didn't. He was an actress, after all, and he was quick, and that allowed him out of most difficult situations. But then, he didn't often find himself in difficult situations to begin with. Nezumi anticipated and planned, and that kept him out of too much trouble.

And Nezumi had anticipated this. Really, he had. And planned for it. For an entire month he thought of the best ways to handle this moment. But now he's here, and it's all so real, and he's forgotten all of that thinking and shit, shit shit! What the hell am I supposed to do now?

He's completely and utterly stumped.

Now, Nezumi's pacing under the deep blue awning that shields him from a gently falling snow. He's trying desperately to rethink a month's thoughts as quickly as he can, because the bakery's closing soon and people keep coming and going and he's just standing there, so he looks as stupid as he feels. Dammit, I know I planned something!

Silently, bitterly, Nezumi curses Shion and that mother of his for making him as nervous as a school girl watching her crush across the playground.

But he can't just wander in and act like a customer; he looks like shit after it forgot to take its antidepressants. And what then? He has no money, no plan, and no guarantee Shion will recognize him.

He can't walk up to this Karan woman and claim to be a friend of his. Shion must be making friends around wherever he's ended up (probably some giant grey building full of cubicles and endless hours of bureaucracy), and people from such a place would not look like they'd been sleeping in alleyways, gutters, and abandoned buildings as Nezumi had been for 33 days. Maybe 34, he'd lost track during that long storm a couple of weeks back.

What other excuses were there? Electrician? Still the wrong look. Traveling host? Hey, that might just-

"Good evening." A voice is saying suddenly, startling Nezumi from the mediocre script he's writing in his head. A woman in an apron is standing beneath a dark green door frame, with a kind yet frustratingly unreadable expression. That sweet smile is shallow, but what she's thinking behind it, Nezumi has no idea whatsoever. "Is there some way in which I may assist you?"

Nezumi stares back at her dumbly for a few seconds before dumping his script and acting on tried and true impulses. With something along the lines of a grin, he begins, "What a fine evening it is, flawless even, now that I am blessed with your presence." Shit, wrong impulse.

Karan raises her thin eyebrows, surprised but not off-guard, impressing Nezumi entirely. "Why, thank you. Why don't you come in for some coffee?"

"If I may be so bold."

Her smile widens, eyes shining with something, and Nezumi follows her in. A muffin and a mug are in his hands before he has the chance to take in shelves and shelves of delicious-smelling pastries, or the fireplace and surrounding seating in the back corner. He thanks her (unnecessarily elegantly, of course), and mills about, trying to take better control of the situation. He's failing miserably, and ends up sitting on a comfortable leather couch.

There's still a decent amount of activity in the shop, but Karan finds a free moment to sit in a chair next to Nezumi. "Hey there, Charmer," she starts, setting her own mug of coffee on the edge of the fireplace, allowing the flames to flick about and warm it. "I haven't seen you in my shop before."

"I'm new in town," Nezumi says quietly, dumping all of his acts and deciding to just speak carefully and let the conversation flow as it will.

"I thought as much."

There's this horrid silence, and Nezumi takes a sip of his drink as an excuse for not saying anything. He doesn't like that he doesn't know what to say. It was so much easier to talk to Shion than to Karan, and he was certain he hadn't anticipated that. In fact, he can't remember having such a difficulty with anyone. You're nervous because you want Shion's mommy's approval. That annoying, deadpan subconscious of his isn't helping.

"I love the cold," Karan went on to say, reaching out and warming her hands in the glow of the fire. "Don't you?"

"Not particularly." It wasn't a lie. Winters were always hard on Nezumi, considering he usually lacked a proper heating system, wood to make his own fire, or enough clothing to layer and keep him warm. Cold meant snow, and snow kept people from attending his plays, so he only got a fraction of his pay. He couldn't even catch a wild animal as he had, occasionally, in the summer, because of the hibernation patterns. But, he couldn't stand to hate the season anymore. Not when the thought of it brought about memories of icy white hair and quiet nights of reading together and the warmth created by being close to another living human. So, overall, Nezumi figures, and for the sake of context, 'not particularly' is appropriate.

"Hm, really? I figured you would. Why else would you pace outside of my shop for so long in this weather?"

Nezumi nearly spits coffee out and all over the cherry-stained end table he's facing as he stares out a window. Luckily, some amount of his composure is still in tact, so he swallows like a normal person. "A good question," he replies, even more quietly than before.

That awful glint is still in Karan's eyes as she goes on to some not-so-random small talk. "Say, I have a son about your age."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. His name's Shion, and he works over in the government office. He was one of the founders of Renaissance."

Nezumi prays that she can't see the heat he feels in his cheeks as he hears Shion's name. "You must be proud."

"Yep. At least, it's not No. 6."

Now Nezumi knows what that goddamn gleam is. She know exactly who he is. Why they're going through this back and forth, pretending they're just casual strangers, he doesn't know. But it seems important to her, so he continues. "I suppose it isn't. But as I said, I'm not from this area, even when it was No. 6, not Renaissance."

"Oh, I see. Let me guess, a rogue?"

"Rogue? I've never put it quite like that, but I suppose it's accurate enough."

Another silence. She's preparing for something, and they both knew it.

"So, Charmer, where are you staying now?"

"Here and there. I just got into this city."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here, if you'd like."

There it was. Did we have to go through all that? "Wouldn't Shion mind?"

"He's stayed with rogues before. He didn't mind it too much." Nezumi smirks. It was all done now, the invitation was given and accepted. Karan rises. "Excuse me, but it's about time I close up the shop for the evening."

She does, and Nezumi plays admiringly with the logs of the fire a moment and cleans up a little with her. He smiles as he wonders when Shion will be home. He's been wanting to wonder that for 2 years since that wall fell.

As darkness envelopes Shion's new city, Karan and Nezumi talk and smirk and laugh together, and Nezumi decides he wouldn't mind it if this woman stumps him once in a while.