"Your food, gentlemen."

Platinum trays in his clawed hand and ceramic plates held in the other, Miyagi gently laid the food-adorned platters in front of the respective animals, the plates clinking lightly upon the wooden table. The steam visibly rose from the food like dancing spirits, and the tantalizingly familiar scent of the egg soup especially made Legosi's stomach growl; he could almost see the flavors of his pesto.

Thump, thump, thump.

Legosi and Gosha remained silent as they took their food from the platters and swiftly transferred them onto their plates. Gosha had remained silent when Legosi blurted the identity of their waiter, and only now did his tongue flick out. Legosi drew in a breath and held it, focusing acutely on Gosha worriedly - that's what he always does when he's about to fight. He studied that in school - komodo dragons often stuck their tongues when they felt threatened or aggressive, and that was their way of assessing a situation. Grandpa!-

Thump, thump, thump. Legosi covered his face with his hands, grimacing behind the wall. Stupid tail…!

"Is there anything else I can be of assistance to you tonight?" Miyagi offered, standing tall at his attentive waiter pose, his prim and proper tone contrasting with his smooth and dominant bartender prose.

A brief moment passed, and Gosha tamed his tongue, turning his head slowly to Miyagi as if it were heavy-leaden. "Yes, actually," he answered tersely, locking eyes with the middle-aged wolf's gaze as his eyes narrowed. "I believe I've seen you, somewhere. A thousand times before." He stroked his chin with his scaly fingers, the surreal scraping noise ringing ominously in the secluded sect of the restaurant. "Who could you be?"

Legosi's eyes widened, a small, worried growl escaping out of his throat as his neck fur bristled. He shot his hands under the table, digging his fingers into his fine jeans and feeling the prick of his claws against his rough fur and stared holes into his thighs. What are you doing?!

The older wolf blinked, but otherwise remained stationary and stoic, brows furrowing in convincing confusion. "I apologize, sir, I have no recollection of ever acquainting with a komodo dragon besides the rare guest. You happen to be the first komodo dragon to dine with us this year," he mused, tilting his head slightly and squinting his eyes in what seemed to be an attempt to conjure a memory. His firm-set mouth finally loured slightly as he shook his head. "No, I'm not sure," he reported apologetically, eyes reverting back their formal leer. "Perhaps you've met with other wolves that look like me - many wolves get confused for each other because we have similar facial structures." He turned to Legosi, smirking and nodding. "Isn't that right?"

Legosi stiffened as his tail shot into the air, the acute lack of thumping bringing heat to his face when he made eye contact with Miyagi. "Uh-uh… yeah," he mumbled punily, kneading his claws into his legs and staring into his soup, the reflection mercifully distorting his image so he didn't have to see how pathetic he was acting. God, get ahold of yourself.

His matter-of-fact answer and offer of alternative reasoning. His smile. The assuring gaze and the light humor that glistened in it.

It was as if he had reached his arm down Legosi's larynx and pricked his heart with his claws, the saccharine infusion within the ungues effusively injecting itself into his bloodstream and tenderly filling each chamber of his heart. The notion brought a dizzying warmth to his brain, desperately gulping in cool lungfuls of the attention into his burning lungs as if he'd been suffocated from the lack thereof. However, a malignant darkness in the pit of his stomach stretched itself to his throat, coating his heart and Miyagi's hand in tenebrous, indelible ink; it made him want to stand to his feet and scream atrocities, to spit and snarl, to wring his hands around Miyagi's throat until he could no longer breath, to suffocate and drain the life out of himself.

When was the last time he smiled at me? he thought to himself, the texture of the denim fabric scraping against his claws, a temporary sanctuary that held him in place as he slowly raked them down to his knees. He clenched his jaw and grit his teeth. Who the hell are you to smile at me?

Gosha's nostrils flared, eyes widening for a slip second before reverting back to his neutral facial features. "I'm sure your devilish looks have the potential to steal any woman from their father's arms," Gosha retorted with acidic adulation, interlocking his fingers and drumming his nails on his scaled epidermis as he pulled one leg over the other, eyes narrowing further. "Who knows?" he drawled bleakly, a smug smile playing across his face along with the scintillating light that reflected off his scales. "Perhaps you could pass on your features to your son. Or perhaps your… courteous and serious personality. He'd be a great mix of you and your wife, I think, because you have great taste in women. At least, you have great taste for women," he added, tone dropping the light façade and pitch at once as his eyes transformed into slits.

Miyagi's eyes widened, and he took a step back, the click of his dress shoe echoing in the dim ambience. "S-sir-"

"It's been a while, Miyagi," Gosha uttered potently, slowly rising to his feet and towering over the wolf, tongue flicking out as his eyes opened further. "Quite convenient we run into each other now, isn't it?"

"E-excuse me!" Legosi abruptly interrupted, slamming his hands onto the table to propel himself to his feet. He clumsily made his way out from behind the table, scattering his silverware onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. He pushed his way through Miyagi and Gosha, shuddering at the contact. "I need to use the restroom…!"

The young gray wolf looked down at the tile and held his breath, as if it would attract less attention from the other diners. The tiles resemble the mask party's flooring, he couldn't help but note as he swiftly strode away from the situation, head down and tail tucked under his pants. The conflicting gaiety and abhorrence churned within his core, brewing and distributing apprehensive nausea throughout his body; his heart pumped vivaciously within his ribcage as he eventually made his way behind the heavy oak doors that housed the restrooms, and he slammed a stall door behind him. He finally sighed a heavy breath, bringing his hands to clutch his sternum and sinking to his knees as he released the trapped toxicity within his heart; he growled miserably through clenched teeth, raising one of his fists and slamming it into the polished flooring, the echo that bounced off the walls of the acoustic room drowning the unbearable thoughts that bounced of the walls of his mind and heart. The smoldering flames within his body made it impossible to see when the self-destructive behavior resulted in tears stinging the back of his corneas, and eventually the velocity of his fists decreased and the intervals between each strike increased, until eventually he ceased altogether. With his left arm raw, Legosi felt a new wave of nausea rise within his stomach as his wrist throbbed, and he jerked back and sniffled when a dull stabbing notion sent a wave of pins and needles up and down his arm when he tried to move it. ...Did I break it?

Legosi propped himself on his right foot, slowly pulling himself back to his feet as he mindfully cradled his arm, wincing at the physical torment, and after a few moments of rocking the injured limb and tenderly moving it, he could extend the limb with only a sharp ache. I guess not.

A shuddering breath balled up within his gut and rattled through his hollow rib cage, and expelled from his throat as he reached behind himself with his good arm to unlatch the stall.

He decided to ignore the flooring that was conveniently cracked where he had just finished pounding.

Swinging the broad door open, Legosi suddenly remembered that he had left his grandpa with the male he hated the most. Fear for his grandpa tugged his heart toward their table, while fear of Miyagi tugged his heart out the door and running for the hills - yet he found himself stepping forward anyway, moving towards the things he feared for and of the most at the moment.

He stopped at the corner that Gosha and Miyagi would be around, heart throbbing in his chest - would they still be standing there, or silently fighting, or would they both be gone?

Would one of them be dead?

His chin tilted up, and he took a deep breath, holding it as he quickly walked into the hallway, head snapping to the right, eyes darting everywhere in an attempt to see everything that had taken place - but relief warmed his next breath when he only saw Gosha and no evidence of bloodshed, or even a fight.

"Grandpa?" he choked out worriedly, reaching out his hand as he stepped towards the komodo dragon. He set his hand lightly on his hard shoulder and edged his way around to his side, subconsciously afraid of his reaction to the contact. The reptile's mien appeared conflicted, vacant yet clear as if either deep in thought or not thinking at all. "...Are you okay?"

Gosha coughed, rearing his head back and looking to Legosi, an uncharacteristically jovial grin unevenly spreading across his face. "Oh… hey, Lego," he slurred, lazily gesturing to the seat across from him. "Go ahead and sit, the food's gettin' cold."

Lego?

Legosi blinked, taking his hand off his grandfather and looking at the table, decorated with attractive foods and cutlery. The steam had long since departed, and the food was certainly cold, by now - it wouldn't be in the least bit enjoyable if they sat to eat now.

Then something caught Legosi's eye - three clear, shiny and very empty wine glasses glinted in the incandescent light, making the wolf's eyes widen marginally. Oh. He turned his head back to Gosha, pointing dumbly at the hollow reservoirs of intoxication. "...W-what happened?"

"Hmm?" Gosha hummed, blinking ladenly and swerving his head to Legosi and vaguely following the track of his finger. "Oh, oh, nothin' happen'," the old lizard assured, shaking his head. "I jus' drank a glasha wine or-"

"We're going," Legosi decided brusquely, assisting his grandfather in standing up as he bumped his own silverware off the table. He quickly reached down and snatched them up, heedless of the chance of being corroded away with Gosha's venom; when he didn't wither away, he stuffed them in his pocket before Gosha could notice. "Did-did anything happen with - Miyagi?" Legosi interrogated, choking on the name as guided Gosha by the arm from the table

"No, no, he jus' got up when ya left, and the fucker said to enjoy my meal," Gosha recounted, wheezing out a short breath that reeked of alcohol. "Walked away all fancy-like, like a god or something."

How much alcohol was in those three glasses? Legosi couldn't help but think as they passed the reception desk - "Have… four to-go boxes ready, and two soup to-go containers, as well," the gray wolf instructed over his shoulder to a very confused looking Mark, who quickly nodded his head and waddled from his position at the greeter's booth.

When Legosi settled Gosha in the truck and buckled him up in the passenger seat, he walked back through the double doors and to the tables where they had sat, his footsteps eerily loud against the tile as the members of the Picky Eater turned to look at him. Their eyes were phantom weights against his shoulders and neck, some gogglers' gazes heavier than the leerers who quickly lost interest in the wolf boy who helped his old and drunk komodo dragon companion. A strange combination, indeed.

When Legosi found their table, the white boxes and opaque soup containers he requested were already on the table, next to the food, and when he finished packing, he lifted each container from the bottom of the stack and headed towards the receptionist desk.

"Any bill?"

The raccoon host clasped his hands and laced his fingers together, almost as if he were begging for his life, and his irises constricted slightly. "Um… y-yes," Mark replied, opening a black folder on the micro-sized podium that wasn't there before. He hastily fumbled with the bill, the paper crackling as he handled them. "I-I actually… well, one of our waiters paid for you and your friend in full," Mark explained, extending his small and holding out his hand that held the white slip. "The one that served you, I believe. I think he was happy we finally had a komodo dragon guest. He said something about being close to one, before." He ended with an attempted good-natured chuckle, which came out weak and nervous.

Legosi's eyes locked on the small piece of paper for a moment, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling it forcefully as he whipped his hand down and snatched the receipt from the raccoon's slim fingers, causing him to yip quietly and jump back a pace.

As expected, the receipt read their meal choices (Legosi especially noticed the extra drinks Gosha ordered) and that a little over six thousand yen was paid off, and a familiar, graceful calligraphy blessed the bottom of the parchment where the signature line was placed. The gray wolf's father was gifted in the art of signatures, especially for a male.

But what caught Legosi's eye was the footnote below it, written in a blocky but just as perfect font:

Tuesday-Friday, 7 PM - 3 AM
Bring your mask

Legosi's eyes widened, pupils shrinking as he stood there dumbly; his tail erected and kinked as his ears perked forwards, which contrasted to his sinking heart and the feeling of dread that accompanied it.

He wants me to…?

"Uh - I - thank you," Legosi sputtered, shoving the receipt in his pocket. "H-have a great night, sir." He bowed quickly as he could with the to-go boxes in hand, and the raccoon followed suit, calling out a broken "Have a great night!" as Legosi turned towards the door and used his foot to open it.

When he got to the car, one peek through the window revealed that Gosha was dead asleep, solid head leaning against the passenger seat window and jaw slack. Legosi noticed a small dribble of spit leaking from the corner of his mouth, and with a start he realized it was his poison. Legosi's body jumped into double time as he opened the door and placed the food by the back window, seating himself in the driver's seat.

Keys.

Muzzle pointing in every direction, his chest began to feel tighter as the minutes passed by - Someone's going to see us like this, ask if I need help, they'll ask where my parents are, I can't afford that-

A small gleam took Legosi's attention, and upon closer inspection, he realized that the keys were on Gosha's keychain that was wrapped around his hand.

Oh no.

Gently, he reached out his hand and touched the cool keys, not eager to accidentally wake up his grandfather from his drunken slumber. When the komodo dragon didn't move, he wrapped his hand around it, slowly attempting to pull the keys away from Gosha. He didn't budge.

He's pretty asleep.

After some manhandling, gentle coercion and calculated risks, Legosi managed to take Gosha's hand and hang it on the keychain strap as he twisted the key into ignition, the old vehicle spurting to life as if abruptly interrupted from its nap. Sighing heavily, Legosi placed his hands on the wheel, drumming his fingers softly on the leather.

Just before he pressed the gas pedal, however, one thing was suddenly made clear to Legosi, the diamond transparency of the epiphany making him terse; his temple began to pound in his skull and rattling his brain as he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth.

I don't know how to drive.