Pasticceria Manicagni [OPEN]

July 19th Afternoon:

Yes, he had to get himself a job. Just another part of being here. Sure the church was willing to give him some funds as his fake family would put out money for him to be their, but it was generally just enough for the rent and the school fees. He only asked for that much. Though he was pretty sure they wouldn’t have given him anymore even he if he decided to be greedy and ask. They already got him all the other needed things, just nothing connected to those needed things. Like Cable or satellite for the Television, or internet signals. So to say the least that was probably the only issue that came down to it.

He looked at his uniform, he was wearing an apron, it’s color was white. He was also required to wear a white dress shirt and dress pants with dress shoes for this job.Though as an added touch he managed to put on his cologne, a more rose and brisk fused like smell which ended in a light hint of winter. Which was normal as he was a sort of decorator and also the waiter. At least that’s how he viewed it. Getting this job in the first place was much more easier then he thought. As the foreign owner was happy to see another foreigner. The only thing he wanted him to do is to be more active with the customers, talking to them and such. As the owner seemed to believe he had some sort of air about him. It was probably just because he had to read the emotions so fast that he would often try to get it on the first shot…or maybe it was his own stare? He wasn’t really sure about what it was. But he was roughly hired and trained. Compared to the churches training this was a walk in the park. Not really hard he just had to make sure the ingredients matched up properly, to allow the main chef to work, then add in the decorations if needed and place it in the glass display counter.

What interest him the most was this location, and the amount of women that seemed to come in and look at the cakes. Though there was the occasional man, the women seemed to have more deep conversations with many different emotions about the cake. He just was glad that his was just after his school, and for mostly just the week. At least until shop hours finished. He wasn’t really one to want to work on the weekends for the most part as he would just generally be doing other important research.

He had to follow a sort of protocol of greeting people who came in to some extent with a happy expression, have a conversation with them, and help them choose something if they asked. Then if they seated, serve them tea. Assumingly that was generally quite easy. Though it didn’t always happen so easily. He was a new face, and it seemed people were interested in him to some extent. Asking him where he came from. It was probably his accent in Japanese, which was normal to say the least. It wasn’t like he learned Japanese in Japan. So it was only normal, but then again it was also probably because he was constantly here during after school hours. So he landed up meeting a lot of girls from the more renowned schools. At least it was easy to tell them apart by their uniforms. Though it still took sometime, other people weren’t that complicated either. No, even if this bored on annoying him, he knew he had to do it. Without money…even if he didn’t see the point in it, he couldn’t pay for his internet or other activities.

He moved to the store counter as he stood and waited kindly. His fake mask on, the act had begun, and as always had to keep a very nice performance. Now to wait for the other employee's or customers to come.

For some people, it was their job to stand behind a counter and smile like a jackass while talking about cakes all day long. 

For others, a job consisted of supporting said jackasses in their field operation duties, as well as keeping a watchful eye on those certain individuals. As he walked down the streets of Academy City, Father Shirou Kotomine wore the uniform of his profession as well. Only, it was a tad less feminine than the uniform Charles was tasked to wear. The redhead's polished, steel-toed dress shoes tapped slowly yet rhythmically against the pavement of the sidewalk with each casual footfall. Despite his unusual choice of attire - at least, it was unusual within Academy City - no one really seemed to be paying him that much attention. That was just how Shirou liked it, at least when he had a job to do. Once him passive stare met the eyes of passerby, they just as quickly averted their gaze and went about their business.

The all-black ensemble was ironed and pressed, and even on the young priest's slender frame it appeared elegantly simplistic. The uniform was as black as shadow, top to bottom. The long-sleeved top was fastened in the front so that the seams flawlessly embraced one another, while the end of the top merged almost imperceptibly with the matching pants. In turn, the pants legs met the pristine pair of shoes. And as if to complete the matching set, he wore a pair of black gloves upon his hands, exposing only a sliver of skin between the gloves and the ends of his sleeves. The only part of himself not covered by his outfit aside from the small area of his wrists was his face, and the only non-black piece of clothing he wore was his white clerical collar.

Over the simple, black top he wore a simple, black cloak. This strange addition to his outfit would seem out of place to most residents of Academy City, especially in the mild weather this place usually experienced. But Shirou doubted that most people in this city even knew what the collar he wore symbolized, much less why he would wear such an outfit. Simply put, he did not dress like this for show, nor only to display himself as a member of the clergy. The latter case would have been rendered pointless in this city of science, and the former would not have aided him any more than carrying a giant sign that said "kick me".

No, he dressed this way for practicality; he was armed to the teeth for a variety of situations, and had stored even more resources at the Chapel on the Hill back in District 12. Because of the nature of Shirou's assignment here - as an ambassador of the Faith - he had been given an entire chapel to reside in and preside over. Yet, he did not actually attend school in that district, but he couldn't fault Crowley for that. If Crowley's generosity had been motivated by a desire to contain this visitor, The God-King of Academy City would be sorely disappointed. Shirou Kotomine had two places of residence; a large church in a nearby city, and the Chapel on the Hill in District 12.

And through the Church's own methods, there was finally a way to avoid the all-seeing eye of Aleister Crowley. But, Shirou had no plans to abuse such a perk, outside of the occasional smuggling of supplies. The Chapel on the Hill was already well-stocked, and Shirou had outfitted himself with a number of dangerous and possibly illegal weapons before he left the Chapel for the cafè. Even so, his movements were casual and smooth, his gait even, and his mobility did not appear to be limited in the least. The only two accessories Shirou had on his person that were visible were the golden cross about his neck and the black, rectangular briefcase he held at his left side.

So, Shirou thought to himself, as the cafè came into view. This is the place he found work? It seems...

No, Shirou couldn't judge the man. The Church only gave to its own when there was need to do so, and even Shirou would have to find a job eventually. Probably. He had numerous funds saved up, but they were all the accounts of his late mentor, Kirei. Even in death, Kirei lent Shirou support, albeit unwillingly. But it would look suspicious if he didn't work at some point. And being fond of cooking, Shirou supposed the bakery wasn't that bad of a choice. He doubted that Charles was as fond of cooking as himself.

The Bakery of Necessary Evil. Shirou considered to himself, though his expression did not change.

He finally entered the cafe, and immediately saw a familiar face behind the nearest counter. Well, this familiarity would be one-sided, and half-baked. Shirou knew the man's name, and his face. He knew his Sorcery Name, but nothing about his past. 

Though, that still gave Shirou more of a working knowledge than Brother Charles would have about him. An orphan like Shirou was all but a ghost among the Executors, and thanks to the fire started by Kirei ten years ago, there were no records on his birth aside from forged documents courtesy of the Church. Shirou - with his hood down - let the doors close behind him, and turned that golden gaze upon the smiling face of his undercover comrade. Shirou did not return the smile, but watched him for a moment, allowing the apron-clad individual to welcome him as a guest. Surely, though, this person would recognize him as a priest simply by looking at his collar and his cross.

Hm. The apron doesn't suit him. Shirou thought to himself, reflecting only a mostly blank stare, wearing an indecipherable mask of his own.

The door chimed to some extent from a person coming in. With a two step turn he smiled at the man that walked in. It was a member of the church. Which was easy for him to pick up on. One of the priests. This was obviously a member of the Catholic Church. Of course he gained some of this knowledge from the cross design and the apparel the man wore. His general blank gaze seemed to meet contact with his own personal fake mask like gaze in return.

“Welcome to the store father.” he says with a general happy tone in his voice. Of course this was a polite way of saying hello to a priest. Though he hoped it wasn’t odd, maybe some people wouldn’t say such a thing? He was pretty sure though it wasn’t going to make him seem overly strange. “ Are you going to be staying in and taking a seat today? Or are you here to pick up and go?” He asks kindly. This was to say a drag, but he needed to do it. It was to keep his job…sure he could have probably just figured out a way to sell his services or something but that really wasn’t the point.  He looked to make sure that there wasn’t people behind him just in case. He wasn’t being mean, so much as he had to practically great every single person that came into the store. So if he could focus his attention on the father before him.

Of course it would be interesting to see the conversation, or what this man would have wanted from here. Maybe he was looking to spread his faith? Or just buy a cake. Who knew, it was going to be quite interesting to see his choice. So many people took certain cakes. So he did try his best to recommend best ones that are in the most supply at the time if asked. He didn’t really like sweets.

"Welcome to the store, Father."

A calm, almost methodical greeting. That was something I had expected from this fellow church operative. I had been told that on some level, he was the same as me. But in the same breath, the support agent had told me that I needed to keep a watchful eye on this individual.

"He is not to be trusted. Observe him, but act only if it proves necessary. He is not your mission, but whenever you can spare your eyes, turn them towards him from time to time."

An obscure, and mostly meaningless - at least, to me - message. But I was not about to question such orders, much less refuse them. I had been told to offer support to this individual, so I assume the Vatican must have some level of faith in his abilities.

I made sure that my face showed nothing; I could not allow the disarming, charming smile of this young man to move me. My own mask remained in place; a look of passive regard, and almost empty focus. I took in every feature of his visage, dedicating his face to memory. It was not his smile that concerned me, nor his scripted words. But to my eyes, something didn't look right. To my ears, something didn't feel right. And in the back of my mind, the words of my mentor - Kirei Kotomine - echoed somewhere in the back of my mind.

"You're empty inside, just like me. A person like myself can tell with one look, and you can see it too, if you'll only clear away the fog that blinds you."

"Are you going to be staying in and taking a seat today?" Charles asked of him, cordially. "Or are you here to pick up and go?"

"I am here only to rest and have a drink, my brother." I replied, not even offering a smile to the guy. However, I would be loathe to demonstrate any degree of rudeness to a host, and my words were not spoken unkindly. I still made sure to call him as a brother, though, if only to make sure he knew I was also aware of his connection to the Faith, and here because of that reason. To do so was against my better judgment, but I needed to at least offer him my support, if not lend it to him as instructed.

I noticed he seemed to be looking around me, and realized he was keeping a watchful eye open for any other customers. I needed to open the dialogue without taking away from his job, or attracting unwanted attention. Since we were both alone in the cafe for now, I decided to leave the floor of any discussion open.

"I would like a cup of tea, if you don't mind too terribly. And also," I pause, and make sure my gaze meets his own, before continuing. "The Lord instructs all of his chosen shepherds to attend the flock. Should you need anything during my visit here, you need only ask, and I will see if it is within my power to assist you, Brother Charles."

The ball was in his court, though I was sure now he would likely have to show me to a table anyway.

July 19th.

She walked around, looking for a particular cafe. Hisakawa had told her to go take a break at Pasticceria Manicagni, knowing well how much of a sweet tooth Natsumi had.

Classes had finally ended, and she didn't have anything else to do, so she took that advice.

(If I'm correct, it's around here...)

She had arrived in front of the cafe, after staring for a while at it, she decided to enter.

Frankly, she didn't have anything to say about the interior since the cafe was in the School Garden, she assumed they were classy enough.
By classy enough, she meant the cakes, she didn't give a single damn about the interior, exterior and whatnot.

She had come in to make a particular demand, for particular cakes. At plural, she didn't eat often cakes, but when she did, she'd eat enough for a group of people.

She looked around, and noticed that there were only two persons in the cafe.

(Either this cafe isn't popular, it's a bad day or, something's going on ... Well, whatever)

She went to the counter, and waited for a clerk to come.

She'd rather just take her cakes and go to sit down, rather than sit down and wait for her cakes.

Upon seeing the clerk return to the counter, she wasted no time into making her request.

"Pannetone, Dacquoise, Otellokage, Saint-Honore and an Opera. With Earl Gray Tea, please."

The girl had obviously poor, to non-existent social skills, so she made it brief and just said what she wanted.

Most of the time, clerks would look at her as if she was insane for asking so many cakes for a single person. She had probably tried every pastry shop she could think of in Academy City, except this one.

Waiting for the clerk's answer, she decided to turn her head around, in obvious boredom.

Charles nodded kindly, this man knew of his current affiliation, this much was obvious, though it would be quite interesting to see where it would go. But for now he truly needed to keep to his job. Taking a few steps, past the counter through what was more swinging like doors he walked up to the Father and gestured to escort him to a seat the was near the main window. While passing by a tray to pick up a tea cup and saucer for it, along with a kettle, that was pretty much already warmed and ready to go. All these things were set up for a much faster and ease of use. Of course, the boss wanted it this way so it had to be this way.

“Ahh, well no need to worry about me.” Charles states kindly as he had met the gaze of the Father before him “ So far all seems to be going well..” He says, it was interesting that this man knew. But maybe it’s just proof of him being higher up to him then not. That was to say, he wasn’t really the most high up in the first place to the church.

He pour the tea into the tea cup with relative elegance, and with a slight bow placed it on a stand so that if the Father wished he could add more. He looked to the lady who had managed to come on, and moved smoothly but quickly to the counter where he heard her order. Such an order was interesting to this person before him. As he noticed that she didn’t look so much as a person who’d consume so much pastries or cake. But he assumed that she knew what she wanted so he nodded, keeping his smile stable on his face as was requested by the boss.

“Was there anything else you wished to have? Or is that all?” He asked her, the same kind tone that he had been using for this job. Annoying? Sure but he really couldn’t care less. It paid and brought in money. He looked over the cakes they had available, and pulled out what he could from the display and counter area. It was easier for this to be placed on a plate. Of course the Earl Grey Tea was going to have to be prepared. Of course that’s because generally most people would take either green tea or something on those lines. Not many people were interested in imported tea…even though this was an Italian styled café.

“I’ll seat you in a moment” he says calmly, though he was pulling out the container for the tea behind the counter and starting up a kettle for boiled water. It was more that the chef would probably be annoyed at him for not out right telling him the happenings at this moment. It was fine, they had like 8 of everything anyways. He shifted his gaze up for a moment seeing her looking away. “Are you bored by any chance?” He asked her kindly. While placing the powder like substance in the top section of the kettle.

She turned her head back to the clerk.

“Was there anything else you wished to have? Or is that all?”

The clerk had said so in a tone of voice that, frankly pissed Natsumi off.

But she disregarded it, as she assumed it was a marketing strategy, each stores and cafe needs one, right?

"You wouldn't happen to have some scones? I'd gladly take some if you have."

She figured it would go well with the Earl Gray, and she didn't want anything like green tea. She had enough of that for the time being.

“I’ll seat you in a moment”

"Hmm..."

While the clerk was taking care of her request, she went back to her previous occupation; Looking around.

“Are you bored by any chance?”

Of course he would notice, one would usually wait patiently for the clerk to be done, yet she didn't.

She knew how to be patient, and knew how to stay still while doing so, but she never does the latter.

"...I guess, I'm not one to fancy over interior designs, so..."

She could watch the cakes that were on display but ... Considering the number of pastry shops she had visited in her life, she knew almost all of those cakes, and didn't have any interest into either observing them, or analysing them.

With a well-rehearsed nod, the blond-haired man steps from behind the counter. As he does so, I watch him methodically work as he walks. Every step this guy takes, every word he says... I'm sure it is all rehearsed. My eyes can not be deceived so easily, and I can recognize the shadow of my mentor inside this man. It feels familiar, yet so foreign. After all the time I spent training and living with Kirei, one might assume I had learned how to consider such a disposition "normal". But this person has pushed it to a different level. He is the same - at his core - as Kirei was, and as I am. But even within these three similar personalities, there are noticeable differences.

“Ahh, well no need to worry about me.” Brother Charles states, almost dismissively. "So far all seems to be going well.”

Even their manner of speaking and the tone of their voice seems similar, to my ears, the more I think about it.

Kirei Kotomine was not troubled by some traumatic experience; he was born the way he was from the start, empty and unable to feel "happiness" through things that commonly made people happy. I was born with the capacity to feel and understand emotions, but had them all burned away at a young age. Even so, that is not to say my ability to understand or even feel emotions was taken from me... I only lost what I had up to that point, but through the Grace of God I found myself a purpose and have managed to live a fairly happy and fulfilling life. But this person is different. I can feel it just by watching his face and by analyzing the way he moves.

I can't put my finger on it, but something doesn't feel right about him.

Even as I think that thought, I keep my face an expressionless mask and allow my eyes to follow his motions on the surface. My feet followed him at my command, and I calmly take the seat offered to me. I actually prefer seats like this, where I can see others - including all those who come in - but can not be easily snuck up on. Maybe it is the result of years of my line of work, but I can not abide letting my guard down. After being seated, I watch as the man pours my tea - black, of course - into a cup. Once he turns his attention to the newly arrived customer, I find my focus drifting to her for a moment. Instinctively, I begin to read her body language and listen to her words, far off as she is.

That's a lot of cakes for someone so small. She looks to be in good shape, though. Maybe she is buying them for a party, or something similar?

I found myself wondering about this girl and her collection of cakes, before she also ordered some scones. This one has remarkable taste, I can tell that just from considering her order of Earl Gray and scones. I feel like I should order something extra now, but I decide not to. And when the girl casually looks off towards her side, my eyes meet with hers. Though, I'm not sure if she noticed I was staring, or not. Besides, I've learned to watch people without giving myself away or actually focusing my gaze on them. And for some reason, many people seem to find my gaze unsettling, and turn away from it.

However, the reason she turned away is because Charles had questioned her about her boredom. The question was an odd one, and not one many people would ask. Even considerate hosts would normally broach the topic more sensitively.

I return my attention to the leaf-flavored lake in my teacup, briefly regarding the blank face I wear.

No. I think to myself, in affirmation.

My mask is not the same as his... He is putting on a show. And I feel, but can rarely show it on my face without effort or at least control. It's not the same.

But for whose sake do I tell myself that, I wonder?

This tea is bitter, but for now, it tastes oddly appropriate as I feel the piping hot liquid be gently pulled down my throat.

He kept his smile like demeanor on play. Yes this was indeed going to be quite and annoying run. He already didn’t really enjoy the job, but he knew that the benefits of money was much better then just running amuck killing and stealing. Indeed the church wouldn’t appreciate such a hassle. He pulled the kettle toward the serving plate he had made for the entire cake order the miss had decided to order. Of course he only did all this when they were well and ready. Getting the tea cups and their own saucers ready then setting them all together neatly on the serving plate. With what seemed like relative ease he picked one up, then walked around passed the loose swinging doors and into the more boutique looking section, placing the said order down on the table with the tea and the kettle. Then pouring the tea, into the cup lightly.

“I do hope you enjoy the cake” he says as he moves in a more invitational form as he was told to do, showing her that her table had been ready. Even down to the forks and a napkin had been ready and prepared. “If you have any other requests feel free to ask, I will gladly oblige you.” He stated, his still happy tone ringing. Yah, a mask. A falsity to what really was of interest, but who cared in the end. The important factor was why this father was here. Maybe he was being to suspicious again, as he did offer him sanctuary if he was ever in need of it. No, there had to be something to it. Maybe the Church wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to do something idiotic? He couldn’t be sure. He took his normal pace to the counter. Watching the cakes for a moment when he set them up accordingly so they would match the correct manner they were placed in. He just sighed and looked to the Father. Indeed it could be a relative interest to see where this man was situated. Maybe provide him with some insight of the power the church may have in this Godless city. Still, maybe it was best he wait for now.

"Haha" She couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. Her luck in this city just kept getting worse and worse. "Truly haha the cosmic war between science and magic is represented in my luck today haha" She thought, still chuckling a stifled and pained laugh of one accepting and trying to look past her misfortunes. First there was that situation at the convenience store she tried to buy something for her breakfast, the slider of the door jammed as she approached so it was made impossible for her to enter for a while as it had to be fixed and it just happened that the technician was sick so the replacement took his time, but oh well he couldn't be blamed. After her shopping was done by mere coincidence once more the faulty door slammed close and nearly murdered her breakfast. Afterwards there was that cleaning bot who thought of her as garbage can and had tried to dispose of her. "I feel like I've been jinxed haha" Seluna scratched the back of her neck as she took a toothpick which in reality is a spiritual item of hers and dug Ibar Alai into one of her pockets. Seluna dressed as usual, her light brown hair tied into two ponytails and wore her khaky colored clothing, exposing her navel while wearing a sweatshirt and a small khaky shirt. Seluna had the look of an athlete and indeed had the figure of one, toned and light but still feminine enough.

The nessesarius agent was of course once more roaming or rather as she excused it 'patrolling the surrounding areas for any sign of trouble or threats that might compromise the safety of Index Librorum Prohibitorum' one of the most treasured and sought after person in the whole magical side. The tiny girl harmless girl that possess 103,000 grimoires in her head a treasure heap or rather the Eden of knowledge for any magician. Sure she had enough caretakers at the moment, a Saint and a prodigy no less and now even an Esper but it was people who walked in shallow waters where light can still shine. People unaware of real dangers and the darkness of the deep places of the world. Seluna was from those deep seas and areas of the world, someone to keep the horrors in the deep and avoid them surfacing into the peaceful lights. Her role was almost like always protect the peace of others by forfeiting her own. Seluna Wilson was just a little shadow that had been linked to Index for her safety. Fortunately enough for Seluna academy city was as far as one could get from the Magic side. Sure there was bound to be one or two magicians around, but its location and its privacy made an ideal hideout for Index and Seluna was just a backup in the case of emergencies.

So her 'patrols' at the moment turned 'see' the sights around Academy City. There was some tactical value in knowing the alleyways and streets of the city, even if it meant being bullied around by automatic and moving little trash bins!!! the thought made Seluna clench her fist and smile a wicket smile."Haha I wonder if they'll notice if one or two of those tin kobolds go missing" She murmured in a devilish tone of childish evil. Putting her hands behind her neck Seluna starts a slow carefree gait with a cat like playful cruelty as she thinks of various ways of getting revenge on the Security bots.

"Haha but first I should get something to eat..." Seluna says, opening the door of the first establishment that is on her side of the road. Without so much as a consideration or a second glance at the place she walked in. Her entry was accompanied by a bell which caused Seluna to look around. Her stance was a comfortable one the kind that looked like as if she owned the place. With a feline expression she glanced around, what first came into her view was the waiter. A particularly... fetching man... Seluna flashed him a smirk, but it wasn't rightly directed at him but rather as a method to conceal another glance. What actually drew in her attention was one of the patrons, a young man dressed in priestly attire. She did well to conceal her interest instantly and instead shifted her visible attention to the waiter.

"Traditional garb... a cross...whats a priest doing in a place like this?" trained instinct began to take place and the relaxation as well as thoughts off peace were shifted by suspicion and leveled curiosity. In the three seconds that it took her to stroll into the counter Seluna build up three theories, one this man was a magician and from the Catholic Church. The other two revolved around him being an actual apprentice to a priest or be one of those Japaneses who enjoyed dressing up as fiction characters, cosplayers they called them.

"Greetings my fellow man!" Seluna says to the handsome waiter, with her hands in her hips she leans closer toward the counter and watches the selection of pastries and desserts. Her Japanese is obviously foreign and a bit... old fashioned, like speaking out of a samurai film. Although Seluna was capable of hammering a more average and modern Japanese but the presence of the priest required a slight investigation and what better way to figure out his intention than by standing out? If he thought Seluna was suspicious, then he´d either conceal it very well or be anxious at her presence.

"Say haha I desire something different, any recommendations?" She chuckles, "Some specialty of this establishment perhaps haha"

July 19th; Afternoon

I watch Brother Charles saunter away from my table, and tend to the new guest.

She really did order a lot of cakes.

Maybe she's one of those people who can eat anything she wants and not gain an extra pound.

In the end, I dismiss the girl for the most part and do not allow my face to broadcast that I am still watching and listening.

Charles continues to serve the cake-loving girl, and begins to set up an array of glass cups and saucers. He slips behind the counter for a moment, and gracefully pours some piping hot tea into a cup. Needless to say, the serving tray gets full quickly.

In a carefully rehearsed motion, Charles guides his guest to a waiting table.

He is reserved while doing so, most likely to avoid seeming hurried. It's only natural; any self-respecting cafè should maintain a calm atmosphere.

It will take a few minutes for Charles to set up such a diverse and relatively large order, so it is no surprise he is showing her to a table. It would be incredibly rude to merely let her wait while he was getting her bouquet of cakes ready. The cafè's newest employee continues to offer his best, winning smile as he flourishes her towards the pre-set table.

From my position in the back-corner booth, I can keep an eye on the entire cafè, including the expanse of the floor along with the display cases and counters.

By the time Brother Charles is done setting up the girl's tray, it looks almost like a miniature replica of the boutique-looking display case customers can order from.

That's when the third guest of the afternoon comes in, a small chime announcing her presence.

In response, I casually lift the still mostly full tea cup with both hands, and bring it to my lips. I stare straight ahead and lightly sip from the cup. To anyone who looks my way, I appear to be absent-mindedly staring out one of the cafè's large, front windows.

In truth, though, my awareness remains as focused as ever. The entire cafè - in my mind's eye - is one, isolated world. My senses absorb through osmosis all that goes on around me, and even amidst a mob shouting I could hear a pin drop so long as it was within this establishment.

Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not by much.

In short, I am using my dichotomously natural and honed talent for "analysis" to take in the entirety of my surroundings. My eyes see every detail within my field of vision, my ears listen for the quietest sounds, and my breathing remains regular as I sip my tea.

Kiritsugu taught me many things. But one of the most important secrets he shared was how to use my gift for analysis to closely observe things going on around me - without drawing attention to myself, and without falling into "predictable" patterns.

My senses are essentially acting on their own for now, while my body goes through the fluid motions of rehearsed "naturality".

Truthfully, I excel at structural analysis when I can focus on one person or object.

But if I trade that intense focus on one target for a "shotgun" effect, I can absolutely take in my environment at the cost of more specific data.

That difference in focus allows my body to act on its own, and I set the drink down, casting my gaze momentarily into the liquid within.

"Shirou-kun,"

I hear Kiritsugu's voice echo in my ears.

"A statue draws just as much attention to itself as a musician. Do not think that you can avoid suspicion through a complete show of indifference. Given the situation at hand, you risk blowing your cover if you do not react at all... Just as much, if not moreso than if you overtly react. "

Accordingly, I allow my eyes to drift to the newcomer, and I see her watching the restaurant's interior.

Presumably, she is watching the host, Charles.

But as someone with the same knack for seeing "through" and "around" things, I realize I am also in her field of vision.

The girl puts her hands on her slender hips, and speaks in a "broken" dialect that is definitely Japanese.

Rather than showing signs of anxiety or dismissing this girl, my eyes - the hue of melted gold - flicker across her person.

I allow my gaze to linger on her form while she stands over the counter, sizing up the assorted array of defenseless cakes and snacks.

However, after a momentary glance, I casually avert my eyes from her form. Kiritsugu taught me the importance of "not staring", and applying mechanical precision to every action. Truly, it is no wonder that Kiritsugu was known and feared as "The Magus Killer".

He would have made a fearsome enemy to any magician or esper, and according to Kirei, he even hunted a certain "immortal" species on behalf of the Church as a mercenary.

And I use the skills that man taught me to break the mold, and refuse to fit the shape others fall into.

I am almost certain that this girl is not merely some tourist.

The controlled gaze and out-of-place dialect conflict with her laid back demeanor and relaxed posturing.

But because of this conflict, I can not be certain which is the real her.

Once again, I hear the voice of a ghost.

"Do not cower when you are faced with your suspicions. Gathering intelligence from afar is wise, but gathering intelligence yourself can put things into perspective and provide clarity."

I rise, naturally and calmly, and I begin to walk towards the girl.

I pay no attention to an apparent verbal tic, and I come to a stop several feet away from her. In relation to Charles - behind the counter, still - I am further away from him than this girl, to show that my business is not that urgent.

I have closed most of the distance between this girl and myself, but my eyes are on the display case as well now.

Whether this girl acts on my approach or not...

That is her call.

He eyed the lady up and down as she had entered the café. She seemed to be to some extent another interesting character to have made their way into this seemingly odd attracting café. Of course the matter of it didn’t really present issue to him. He just had to keep to the task, keep his perfectly reharsed moves well…perfect. He had heard the odd matter the person had decided to display their language to him. The broken oldish style of Japanese that he was pretty much told never to use when he was being taught the language. He just smiled at the women before him. She did fall into the circle of what some would view as attractive, though there was still her seeming like tick of sorts. The laugh she had as if she was nervous, at least that is what he read on certain people. Emotions can display in some aspect by basic reactions the body does. It was all part of his general study of the said emotions. Of course this was always going to be in question but he just ignored it.

“Well,” he stated with a soft and carefully happy tone. “I would have to suggest based on which fruit you enjoy. The Cheese cakes have always been quite a delight. I’d have to ask you if you would like maybe a more sweet flavor to it too. Sometimes people aren’t a fond customer when it comes to an over beating of sweet in their cakes. So with those questions I could give you the best suggestion.” He says calmly with the same light smile on his face keeping his eyes locked on target while seeing that the father had gotten up himself to approach this target. If he made a move, he would to join in with the father. It may have blown his cover, but it would be best he support him in anyway he could for now. This was at least what he felt for the moment…then again it would be a shame to toss away another person…and lose this job.

Brown sharp eyes peruse between the selection of cakes, moving side ways and up ways between the display and the elegant waiter. Seluna can't help but watch him as each of his very reactions and actions is carefully measured and thought out. Prim and proper to the last hair is the conclusion Seluna draws in as she gives a kind smile to his explanations on what she could order. "Poor thing he almost looks like a horse beatened to discipline" She thinks, as she returns her attention to the cake and as she does she digs her hands into her pockets and leans back. Briefly her eyes wander to the priest who had risen from his seat and had approached the counter. Several thought patterns cross Seluna's mind as she flashes him a grin and steps back as a sign of allowing him access to the counter and the prim waiter.

Her choice is simple, opening a conversation would move things easier for her and she would have some control over the flow of things. "It might take a while for me to order, why don't you go ahead? Don't want your tea to get cold haha" She offers openly and without reservation. Yes this was a proper way, the young priest had stand up without finishing up his coup of tea and it was easy for him to assume that she would assume as him to coming to the counter either to pay his bill or to order something else. Her speech is still painlessly obvious foreigner and of an old fashion style, she had to thank a certain Sis-con for the lessons. Amiably Seluna returns her sight to the display, another more secretive reason for her choice in suggesting the priest to go on first was so that she would be more comfortable ordering her still to be decided pastrie. While she had no qualms ordering it, she always felt subconsciously uncomfortable when someone was near her as she ordered something sweet. Having the paranoid thought that they would think "Ehhh so thats what she likes" or "Oh thats the worst type of cake ever" and if Seluna was self conscious it was only when it came to sweets, what other people thought of her in those particular moments was something she could not help think and fear.

She glances around the Cafe and notices a young girl... her collection of orders was something that Seluna inwardly envied and wished she had the guts (And money) to buy that many. Her hands shuffle in her pockets and the left one draws a couple of coins and two old bills, she counts them and then glances between them and the price tags in display.

"Maybe I should get the Kiwi one haha" She murmurs, not softly but neither in her normal voice tone.

"Or that cheese cake..." This one is said in a quieter whisper, her expression straining as she translates the Kanjis that say Raspberry cheese cake. She unfocused her vision and puts the money back in her pocket, then thoughtfully taps her chins as she goes through her options again.

"Sorry to bother but whats that cake that young lady has over there?" Seluna interrupts "Haha" as she points to the Saint-Honore slice in Natsumi's table. She of course knew the name, no sweet lover or even sweet enthusiast would mistake it but it was a good conversation starter.

I watch as the girl politely steps to one side, signaling that I may approach the server ahead of her.

I am not sure whether I am pleased or displeased by this action. On one hand, it signals that she will almost certainly speak to me. On the other, it also means I must quickly talk to Brother Charles and any conversation with her will be short-lived.

"It might take a while for me to order," The girl says, providing her reasoning for stepping aside.

"Why don't you go ahead? Don't want your tea to get cold haha."

It is them I notice her verbal tic for the first time; a small laugh, as if she is nervous.

As if it it were only natural, I step forward and face the glass display. My eyes take in the array of cakes and pastries, but I also focus on something else: a ghost-like reflection in the glass of the display, through which I watch the girl and everything behind me.

It never hurts to be cautious... That is an important part of being a magus, so it works for me as well.

"Yes," I start, speaking in a quiet but natural voice to Brother Charles. My eyes, though... This time, I allow them to say more. After making sure no reflective surfaces can give away my facial expression, I mouth two silent words to him. And yet, my jaw and cheeks show no signs of the brief request between my words.

"Watch. Her."

Those words are spoken in absolute silence, and hopefully understood by this agent of our common Faith. Not risking anything to chance, I use the remainder of that breath to casually continue the statement I had started with a simple "Yes" of acknowledgment.

All the while, I watch as the girl behind me inspects the cakes, rifles through her pockets for any spare money, and finally focuses her gaze on the other girl who walked in earlier.

"I have decided to order something besides tea. I was thinking something along the lines of---"

"Sorry to bother," My quarry begins, much to my relief. The spotlight will be back on her, if only briefly.

""But whats that cake that young lady has over there?"

A simple question, but not one I could competently answer.

All the same, I allow my body to shift slightly and my eyes to follow the length of her sinewy arm and slender finger.

My eyes are eventually drawn to hers, and before Brother Charles or the girl can speak - assuming the latter can even hear us, I make my move.

"I'm afraid I am at a loss. I came here for tea, you see."

My words are spoken kindly, even as I mentally ready the probing blade of my next sentence.

"But it seemed to me earlier that you were pretty focused on the cakes. I was actually thinking about asking you the same question."

If anyone can see the meaning behind my words, it is Brother Charles. My statement was meant with no hidden meaning in and of themselves, but they served a purpose of putting me that much closer to my target.

Teamwork is a wonderful thing, and I think as much to myself before spiking the ball back to Charles with a small smile.

"Brother Charles, might you be able to help solve our little confectionary conundrum?"

A good conversation starter, indeed.

She had noticed that her amazing order of cakes had attracted the attention of most customers in the café, but paid no attention whatsoever to what they thought.

(But still, the customers are kind of shady, I doubt they came here just for the sake of eating something. I shouldn't stick my nose in useless stuff anyway, it could get really bad

She continued to eat with her right hand, while browsing on her phone with her left one.

She didn't know (or care for that matter) whenever cellphones were allowed in this cafe, but she still felt a need to browse on her phone right now.

The reason that her phone was under the table was not because she was trying to hide it, but rather because she needed to keep the screen away from her eyes, she didn't have a glasses fetish, and would not get one any time soon.

While still tasting the cakes, she started mailing to Miyako.

"I'm at the cafe."

"Oh? That's rare for you to report~"

"Get the ~ out of your next messages or I'm going to kill you."

"Right right, so, how is it?"

"Shady."

"...What?"

"Customers. Shady. Aside from that I guess the cakes are good, but that's to be expected from the location of this cafe."

"Such a Tokiwadai lady, and what do you mean, shady?"

"The clerk and a red-headed guy looks really suspicious to me, but I'm not going to stick my nose in the matter, way too tired and not interested enough. Though there's a less shady girl in the cafe too..."

"What if I gave you a mission to stick your nose in the matter?"

"I'll murder you."

"Such violence is not needed you know?"

"...Are you one to talk? Really?"

"I am not, and that is exactly why I'm saying this (^ω^) On that note, I'm busy so I'll text you back later."

She had felt that the emoticon was simply for the purpose of trolling her, but she disregarded it.

After Miyako sent her last mail, Natsumi resumed her browsing while drinking, while being careful as to not drop the tea on her phone like the last time she had been in a café.