Natori has time between shoots and it's cold out. He ducks into the nearest café.

And Natori has absolutely no reason to believe that he's seeing Matoba Seiji sitting at a small table in the corner with a rotund grey cat rubbing around his shins.

And yet, there he is.

The window of time in which he could've slipped out the door has passed him by and Matoba has already noticed him.

Natori faintly registers hushed murmuring and the sounds of camera shutters starting up hesitantly. He shoves his glasses back on and replaces his hat.

"I've ordered your usual," Matoba says in a manner that's charmingly proprietary. Fairly ridiculous and definitely not warranted. Natori keeps these thoughts running on a necessary loop through his mind.

The waitress, who'd been lingering, flashes Natori a hurried smile before leaving them to themselves.

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" Natori asks heavily.

Matoba slides the pastel-hued menu across the table, tapping the first drink listing.

Natori sighs, resigned.

Matoba idly eyes the complimentary cat ears on the table and then eyes Natori's hat. Natori inches his chair back. A plump tabby tom chooses that time to clamber onto his lap.

After handling Natsume's excuse for a cat, this is nothing. However, it certainly hinders any chance of escape. Matoba looks delighted with this development. Natori regards the cat kneading at his slacks with suspicion. Perhaps they're in cahoots.

It's so cute. Objectively so. Delivered in an oversized teacup dotted with pawprints, a dollop of milk foam floats on top. Two soft peaks connote cat ears. Eyes, nose, and whiskers have been delicately applied in thin strokes - cocoa powder, he thinks.

"Delightful." Matoba sips his own coffee. A splash of cream and a touch of sweetener.

His drink is not as cloying as he thought it'd be. A surprisingly good balance of novelty and taste. It's also the perfect thing for the supposed actor Natori Shuuichi to be seen with, across from his mysterious, eyepatched companion.

Cue more camera shutters. There's just one careless flash.

"Twitter's going to blow up," he groans, hunkering down.

"And Instagram and Facebook." Matoba invokes them like a new spell learned. Natori doesn't miss it and snorts into his drink. Matoba just blinks at him over the rim of his mug. Its handle has been fashioned into a cat's tail.

"Are you hiding from Nanase-san or something?"

"That would be preposterous. Can't I have an afternoon free?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Matoba rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to tugging an elaborate string toy across the ground. Several cats pounce after the beaded, feathered piece.

"Are you hiding from your director?" Matoba asks him, a little while later.

Hmm, a part of Natori's brain goes. Interesting.

"I've got a break," he opts to answer.

"That's nice."

He manages to offload the cat on his lap without too much trouble. The tabby doesn't hesitate to curl up on his seat. Matoba offers a polite farewell.

"We should do this again," he says.

"You can just call me next time," Natori returns, feeling charitable. He files away the expression on Matoba's face and heads out.

And if Natori spends some time scrolling through Twitter the next day, nobody has to know.