[If nothing else, the unmistakable chatter of the Usyagi might attract the attention of anyone walking near the skating rink-- and while they will no longer be there when you arrive there, the rink won't be entirely empty. Sitting on the bench at the side of the rink, there's a man in an immaculately pressed suit and sunglasses (though if you look carefully, there are definitely some bruises on his face).
He's also holding a journal in his hand, leafing through it, tracing the pages with his finger.]
Write to find out who is here...? [A chuckle, and he closes the journal. Right, like that is going to happen.]
I think I'd rather- look around by myself. [He says quietly, to himself, before standing up and walking, slowly but effortlessly, through the ice rink to where the exit is. There's his white stick in his pocket... but he won't use it. Not just yet.
Later on, you'll find him standing next to the tables stocked full of food, a cup of coffee in his hand and head tilted down slightly, doing.... nothing at all. Of course, he's listening to the conversations around him, but that's hardly the first assumption, now is it...]