<i>Makoto holds his hand to his chest, almost as if confirming it was he that Ryoma was talking to. He seems to chuckle in some semblance of shame.</i> You'll have to pardon my rudeness. My name is Makoto Fukami, a pleasure to meet you. <i>He offers his hand to Ryoma for a customary shake.</i> And yours?

<i>Makoto ponders the words Ryoma said, simple to understand, but difficult to grasp. He took to largely ignoring the oddballs of the congregation, almost knowing it'd save him time and effort. He briefly sends his thoughts toward home, to his sister, to his best friends. They could last without him, but could he last without them? It wasn't worth much more thought, he'd just have to ride it out. He seems to whisper his next thoughts aloud.</i> I can't worry for myself, that'll be a meaningless distraction... <i>He finishes his cup, and disposes of it properly, be it returning it to the barista, or trashing it. He stretches after his long ride about the place, but addresses Ryoma once more.</i> If I find anything more about this place, I'll make it of note to inform you. It should go without saying you'd do the same.

<i>Makoto grimaces, the answer he expected, but not the one he wanted. He stares down at his clenched fist, but looks up with an iron resolve.</i> You may not have heard of one, but I swear I will find one! If it doesn't exist? I vow to make one! If I myself cannot make one? Then I will fight to my very end to see it done! <i>With these words, Makoto walks away with a confident gait. Should anyone follow him, they'd see him mounting his motorcycle. He dons his helmet, and rides off into the city, searching for answers.</i>

<i>The man takes the blend, and relocates himself to an adjacent bench. He takes several blends, and his demeanor quite clearly softens.</i> You are quite clearly worthy of that pride. As for the eating situation, might I recommend coffee cake? It's a dried cookie, so no need to worry about it going stale. I may even go so far as to say even the lowest quality coffee cake would shine when paired with your blends. Apologies if I seemed a bit... em... rude. You see I'm not accustomed to this place yet. For that matter, do you know where this is? It's quite similar to my old home, Japan, but it's, well to put it bluntly it's wildly different. <i>The young man furrows his brow in thought, clearly he seems conflicted about what he's saying. Perhaps a minor inquiry may yield some information?</i>

<i>Makoto speaks up the two women, significantly calmer now.</i> I... I too would like to learn of this place. A general grasp would be greatly appreciated! Anything that could help me learn how to get home would leave me eternally grateful. I can't offer much in way of compensation, but please! <i>Makoto bows, but it clearly seems forced, as he hesitates to do so.</i>

<i>A man in a leather jacket aboard a deep blue motorcycle pulls to a stop and removes his helmet. He stops in the parking lot and begins to take a stroll. He approaches the strange stall with a particularly blank expression, that is... nothing of note.</i> Coffee, hmm? You, barista! You likely pride yourself on your coffee, yes? I'd like to purchase some. House blend. Black. <i>He reaches into his jacket pocket, and begins to search for a bit, clearly hitting things along the way.</i> I don't see any food on your menu, is it safe to assume you've none to serve, or perhaps a secret menu? No matter, here. <i>He holds the money in front of the barista, assuming he'd take it and begin work on his order.</i>

<i>Makoto's previously softened expression hardens once more. He turns toward the obviously inhuman creature, and the women, with a calm fury in his eyes.</i> If you two are preparing to fight, I suggest you do it in a more appropriate place. This park is intended to provide peace of mind. I'll see to it you don't disturb it. <i>His eyes radiate a calm, yet pure anger. His anger seems genuine. His fist stands clenched at his side.</i>

<i>Makoto hesitantly takes the handshake. Shortly after he sticks his free hand back into his pocket.</i> My name is Makoto. It's a pleasure. <i>With some short words, he'd cast his eyes about at the room. They seem to be filled with intrigue.</i> If I may... what type of literature does this club work with?

<i>A quiet revving of a motorcycle can be heard outside the building. It comes down to a peaceful rumble, then stops entirely. Shortly following, a leatherclad youth enters the classroom, carrying himself in a quiet manner. He glances about the room, but doesn't say much.</i> This... is the literature club, yes? <i>He turns a medium sized book over in his hands, making sure it's clear of dust. Other than that he simply stands with a calm look in his eyes waiting for a response.</i>

<i>Makoto nods. Though his expression seems rather stale.</i> Thank you. I haven't had much since my arrival here. <i>Makoto takes his hand out of his pocket to reach for a cupcake, but an object looking like a tiny ball falls out of his pocket. He hurriedly rushes to retrieve it, and then attempts to take a cupcake like nothing happened. He takes a small bite, and his eyes widen.</i> It's... quite good!