[It's pure chance, really, that has Kirigiri spotting Ishimaru slipping into the local drinking establishment; a simple case of happening to be in the right place and precisely the right time, and finding the sight of someone hesitating in front of the doors odd enough to look twice and realize that oh, it's her classmate, and more importantly it's quite possibly her classmate least likely to be going in to such an establishment in the first place.
The problem here is, there's no way to follow him in without ultimately being noticed — she'll stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that, and if her appearance alone doesn't do it, then remarks from other patrons almost certainly will — and that might create the opening for another spat about her actions and tendencies. She might have to deal with mistaken accusations that she's following him, or watching him, or something equally troublesome; in the grand scheme of things, it's probably nothing anyway, and maybe it's not worth her time.
But no, there's something that's nagging at her, and she can't put her finger on what it is, and that's ultimately why she decides to follow him in — to alleviate that annoying feeling.
She's really not sure what she's expecting, but pool isn't it.
She breezes through the bar the same way she carries herself in every other situation — like she belongs, like she owns it, like she has every right to be here and anyone who might question her is so obviously wrong that there's no point in even deigning to acknowledge them. But she doesn't approach the table itself; no, she hangs back near the stools (and the cat) and hovers like she always does, waiting to be noticed and using the time in between to figure out what she's even doing here in the first place.]
action;
The problem here is, there's no way to follow him in without ultimately being noticed — she'll stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that, and if her appearance alone doesn't do it, then remarks from other patrons almost certainly will — and that might create the opening for another spat about her actions and tendencies. She might have to deal with mistaken accusations that she's following him, or watching him, or something equally troublesome; in the grand scheme of things, it's probably nothing anyway, and maybe it's not worth her time.
But no, there's something that's nagging at her, and she can't put her finger on what it is, and that's ultimately why she decides to follow him in — to alleviate that annoying feeling.
She's really not sure what she's expecting, but pool isn't it.
She breezes through the bar the same way she carries herself in every other situation — like she belongs, like she owns it, like she has every right to be here and anyone who might question her is so obviously wrong that there's no point in even deigning to acknowledge them. But she doesn't approach the table itself; no, she hangs back near the stools (and the cat) and hovers like she always does, waiting to be noticed and using the time in between to figure out what she's even doing here in the first place.]