He wasn't, precisely, looking for Akana. Mostly he wanted a drink. Of course, considering he hadn't shaved in a day or two and his scuffed and worn leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and general disreputable air, he didn't really fit in either. But he had enough of a don't fucking mess with me gleam in his eye to keep anyone from suggesting -- politely or otherwise -- that perhaps he ought to find his drink somewhere else.
It doesn't escape his notice, as he sits down beside Akana, that this meeting of theirs is more than a little out of the norm for them. Usually one of them would have slung an insult by now at the least.