Someone smells absolutely delicious. His eyes, a sharp electric blue, scan the room for the person whose scent he's smelling. He can almost taste her on his tongue already.

Satoru clears his throat and stands from the table of his friends, tossing his cards down. He uses the term loosely; They're really just a means to an end, and politely excuses himself.

He hums lightly to himself, nodding at passerby servants and the odd guest who has strayed too far from the gathering room. He pauses and looks out the large window. The sunlight streaming in is uncomfortable but tolerable for now. He sighs. The scent, now mixed with the familiar aroma of roses and peonies, leads him outside.

His body is relaxed as he finds himself in the gardens. He honestly should have known. The little bird just can't help herself from sneaking into his gardens and stealing his flowers. Not that he minds.

He plants them for her anyways.