Wrong place, Right time? (OPEN)

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The tall man stood out in the crowd, something he had become used to despite the fact that he was half Japanese. It always came up as a topic of discussion whenever he was interviewed, whether he was really half-Japanese or not. He always smiled and said he was 100% positive that one of his parents were in fact Japanese. That didn't stop them from asking though.

Right now, Arun found himself walking down the streets of Shibuya without any real aim or direction. The sun was still up and it was a bit past noon so people were out and about getting lunch before returning to their places of work. Lucky for Arun, he was free today which was pretty rare recently. He'd been getting a lot of work. If he wasn't recording a new song, he was practicing dance moves, or gearing up for another event or show. 

To get the time to go out and about was nice but not many had his schedule so usually, he found himself whistling to himself as he walked along not even bothering to hide his identity because with his height, that was next to impossible to accomplish. So even as he walked along, he could hear the giggling trailing behind him. 

It was creepy to a point but Arun had gotten pretty accustomed to it. They usually tended to stare from afar and if he even glanced behind him they would get to squealling and calling his name so he'd stopped looking awhile ago. As if on que, his stomach growled reminding him that it was lunch time. So he decided that he would stop at the first place that he came across thinking that wherever he went they were about to get some major business.

The first restaraunt that he stopped at was a ramen shop. The walls were lined with tables with two chairs at each while the booths that lined the far wall seated about four. In the center was a bar-like area where the chef was busy making ramen. Arun decided the safest bet was to sit at the bar, and as luck would have it he got a seat between two people, though he didn't quite register who they were. He sat down and called to the chef. "One shiyo ramen please!" The chef grunted his acknowledgement and went on his way cooking. With that done, Arun glanced over his shoulder to see some of the girls trickling into the place while others peeked through a window. With a sigh he returned his attention to the chef.

If I clean my rocket
We'll go flying today

LAIKA OF BTN!

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The first sip of tonkatsu broth always hurt in a really lovely way. It wasn't as if he were a masochist, but the spread of the rich flavour of pork bones boiled for hours always made the boy smile so hard that it became painful. While known to overwork himself to the point where eating and sleeping were forgotten, he made it his mission to get at least one proper meal a week to avoid any doctor-ordered breaks that would disrupt his schedule. It was his duty as the little leader to make sure he took care of everyone - including himself. He put down his spoon and rubbed his aching cheeks with the broth-forced smile still playing his lips.

His morning schedule had been rather hectic, having moved from a photoshoot in Shinjuku to a small promotional appearance at his sister's new work at her manager's request. The day was still young, and it was great weather to have a little off-time. Resuming his meal, he picked up his chopsticks and dug around for some wakame. But it was rather difficult to find the dark ingredient, especially when there was a shadow cast upon you. He looked up at the tall person who would dare cast a shadow on his bowl while he was in the middle of his meal, only to find a familiar face.

"Oh, Arun-nii!" He chirruped, completely oblivious to the setting and the fangirls that surrounded them and the interest drawn by not only confirming the man's identity, but also bringing attention to his own. "Good timing," his broth-induced grin swapped out for his 'Yay, Friend!' smile, and he motioned to the red bowl of ramen in front of him, "I want more wakame."