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[attr="class","oz"]Looking at his trainer, Chip could tell he was in some kind of distress. And he felt kind of left out. So, he decided he should play along. ‘Dengoooo.” Chip let his head drop to the table. Its weight was enough to lift the table off its feet. Gold eyes lifted to their waitress with a faux weariness. He forced his head to lift, feigning a great deal of effort. Feigning his last moments, he turned to his trainer.

Hot and tired, Oz was not amused. “Some of us have organs, Mr. Dale.”

A shadow soon fell over their table. From his vantage point—his torso stretched across the table—he tilted his head toward her. His eyes landed on her apron. “Alola.” He stared at the menu he was using for a pillow. ‘I need something cold. Do you guys have milkshakes or anything?” Sure, he could just open the menu, but that’d require moving. “I’ll also—” Movement from across the table caught his eyes.

He was pointing (not so subtly) at their maitre’d. A gesture Ozni misinterpreted.

“I know it will go straight to my hips. You don’t have to be the diet police, babe.” With a sigh, he forced himself to sit straight up. He tried to give a trademark Adebayo grin. The spitting image of the one that likely ensorcelled Izumi’s mom all those years ago. “Sorry about that, love. I just needed a moment to be—” He blinked twice.

“Izumi?” His voice dropped. “Good deeds really don’t pay, huh?”


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Izumi Yamamura

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[attr="class","oz"]Baby blue eyes lifted to her with a languid grin. “Spiked sounds great.” With what seemed a great deal of effort, he flipped his wallet open on the table. His ID was featured front and center. He didn’t really think about the fact that it showed his last name front and center. The surprise and ensuing video was only a quarter of what was on his mind. Most of him was basking in the uncomfortable dampness of his clothes.

As the choices were given, he shook his head. “Something fruity if you’ve got it, hon.” Vanilla was for basic bitches and chocolate was too rich. Next to him, the Gholdengo’s eyes jerked up. Thick, golden fingers tapped rapidly at the table. He held up two fingers. Empty eyes lifted to Izumi expectantly. Obviously, he wanted his own secret menu item.

With a sigh, Ozni batted at his vicinity like he was an errant fly. “Nooooo, Chip. You can’t hold shit.” The CEO paused for a moment. “Remember when you dissipated through the floor? That was one beer.” With a look of faux innocence, the ghost-type shook his head emphatically. Obviously, he would be just fine. That had totally never happened. Oz was just fibbing (except he wasn’t).

Look at that. He found the girl when he wasn’t even trying. Good old-fashioned Adebayo luck at play.

At the question, he blinked. “What did I—” His mind took a moment to catch up to his mouth. “You’re a ranger right—El Capitano, in fact?” Pianist fingers drew idle circles in the air. “But you’re waiting tables like a peasant.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t say much for the payscale, right?”

At least that wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Not after he gave her the hilariously large check in his car. Which was currently at the bottom of the stupid hill that brought him up here.

Tag

Izumi Yamamura

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[attr="class","oz"]At the mention of eruptions, blue eyes flicked toward the nearby window. Was that smoke darker than earlier? Had the earlier sliding been a rumble to come? “And how often is it being threatened?” He was pretty sure his calendar hadn’t said anything about an appointment with a lava shower. But, if it happened, it’d take a herd of Mamoswine to get him out of this chair.


He’d just have to be one of the ash figures like they found in Alto Mare.


The conversation quickly turned to the woman’s private time. It seemed she wasn’t a peasant—just a sucker. As her explanation ended, Ozni found himself shocked. His dad had cheated more times than he had toes. Almost all of it with different women. There was another CEO, a rival’s EA, a young heiress, and a movie star. So, it felt off that he slid so far down the economic ladder. “Your mom’s a chef?” He craned his neck toward the kitchen, seemingly hoping to snag a look. “Huh.” That was really off the typical menu. Could it have been love? Pffft.

At the question, Ozni nodded. A hand unfurled as he flashed a thumbs up. “Yeah. Anything non-alcoholic. My wingman here can’t handle booze.” With a metallic ring, the Gholdengo settled lower into his seat. Big, circular arms folded irritably across his chest. With a chuckle, the CEO flashed him a lazy smile. “I’ll find a way to make it up to him later.” Maybe he could find a coin dealer or coin press nearby. Foreign currency always caught Chip’s attention.

“The twins?” Now, that blink was a stunned one. If they were hers, she looked damn food. “Huh.” Was he an uncle? Were there new heirs to go all Game of Thrones on? What the hell was the point of hiring someone to get him juice if they didn’t squeeze the whole lemon? Uggggh. He ran through his typical people-with-crotch-goblin questions. “You’re never too young to learn fiscal responsibility.” Or too old to ignore it?

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Izumi Yamamura