Katsuko elbowed Ryouma in the ribs, grinning. “Be nice. His bark is worse than his bite, otherwise he’d have been arrested by now.” She raised her voice, cutting off the old man’s stream of obscenities. “Wakahisa! Get over here and gimme a hug, you crusty bastard.”

Wakahisa slammed a pot down on the stove and turned to give her a beady-eyed glare. “So it is you, Katsuko,” he said, lethally pleasant, and stalked across the restaurant towards them.

Katsuko blinked. “Is... something wrong?”

Wakahisa folded his arms, looking down his beaky nose at her. “Brat,” he said, in that frigid tone of voice that had always sent her ducking behind Sensei for cover. “When was the last time you stopped by?”

“Ah,” Katsuko said after a moment, and reminded herself that she was a jounin and couldn’t use Ryouma as a meat shield. She smiled, sheepishly. “...Six months, give or take.”

“Give or take,” Wakahisa echoed, dubiously.

“But look!” Katsuko said, desperately, and dragged Ryouma forward. “I made a friend, and I brought him here to visit!”

Wakahisa narrowed his eyes at Ryouma and didn’t unfold his arms. “A friend, is it.” Despite the fact that he barely came up to Ryouma’s chin, he still did his best to loom over the younger man. “What’s your name?”

Ryouma tucked his chin in a little, bemusedly looking down at Wakahisa. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets, stance easy and relaxed, but Katsuko noticed the way his spine straightened fractionally to bring his full height into play. "Tousaki Ryouma. What's yours?"

“Yamada Wakahisa.”

“Wakahisa was my jounin-sensei’s mission partner before he retired and opened up the restaurant,” Katsuko added, when it became apparent that the old man was reluctant to give out any more information. “I’ve known him since I was a genin.”

Wakahisa gave her an irritated glance before turning his stare back on Ryouma. “How long have you and Katsuko been... friends?”

“What? No,” Katsuko said, finally catching on. “It’s not like that. He has a boyfriend. We’re friend-friends. Can we have food, now?

The look Wakahisa gave her promised that they were going to have a talk, later. “Fine,” he said, and turned away, waving a hand at the seating area. “Grab a table, place your orders. And no fist-fights inside.”

A harried-looking waiter came from the back of the restaurant to lay out menus and utensils as Katsuko chose a corner table that faced the street. She grinned at Ryouma and pulled out a chair for him, giving him a proper gentleman’s bow. “Madam.”