Beastars: The Discover Check

Epilogue

Yuta was led to his table. A small two top next to a metal railing on the edge of the restaurant's outside dining area. The foreign country was much different than back home. But he liked it. The architecture was oftentimes awe inspiring and everything seemed to be done to the highest standards. At least, from what he had seen. And everyone was so polite to him. He had read it was due to the fact he was a foreigner and they were making a good impression on him to better represent their country. They loved outsiders wanting to experience their way of living. If only the rest of the world could share this mindset. The waiter motioned to the table, being unable to speak a word of Yuta's language, a translation book having to be needed for broken conversation, and the sheep simply nodded in thanks. The waiter left him as the retired butler hung his coat over the back of his chair.

Yes, Louis' will had left him the largest sum of his estate, which he sold off and was now living off that money quite comfortably, doing something he never thought he'd be able to do; travel the world. This particular visit to this particular restaurant in this particular city of this particular country however was not on his itinerary until much later in his travels, but he couldn't deny the odd behavior of the note he had received in the mail. Addressed to him, at his temporary hotel address, signed by an unnamed beneficiary. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he gave in. It was an all expenses paid trip to the country, stay for a week and a ticket to a show at the end. When he arrived, another note was waiting for him when he checked into the room. It had told him to be at this very restaurant at this very time on this very date and that there was already a reservation for him under his name, prompting Yuta's curiosity to grow more.

So now, here he sat, waiting for this mysterious person to perhaps show themselves. Perhaps. Yuta knew full well they were here, but whether or not they would identify themselves was up to them. He scanned the crowd once over before taking his seat. If they were already here, then they had done a very fair job of hiding themselves. Probably one of the customers with their noses buried in the large pages of a newspaper had seen him come in and that was all they needed. He really didn't know. He sat down before his peering eyes became too obvious to the other patrons.

He looked out over the creme-painted iron railing. There was a river that ran in the dining area. It was wide enough that it flowed smoothly over rocks. What little gurgling there was became background noise that added to the ambience. The smell of woodland freshwater spritzed its way into his nostrils in a way that was impossible to ignore. The trees along the embankments were a deep green and a select few were flowering in full bloom. It was a nice change from the calm yet bustling city he had come from. This little garden area seemed tucked away from the rest of the city. The little cafe had walled off this area via a large greenhouse space. It was like a glass orb that kept the rest of the world at bay. The river was a flowing, filtered, self-sustaining plumbing system. There were other seats around the edges of the space, as the railing and flooring wrapped around the entire grassed area. There was seating in the trees for smaller animals or birds if they felt so inclined. Yuta just closed his eyes and let himself be lost in the ambiance.

"Sir?" someone asked with a thick foreign accent.

Yuta opened his eyes and looked towards the voice. An otter, in wait-staff uniform, stood presenting a bottle.

"I am the manager," he continued fluently in Yuta's language. "And it gives me great pleasure and honor to present to you the most expensive and exquisite bottle of wine we have, gifted to you from the gentleman at table sixty-three."

"From who?" Yuta asked.

The otter pointed to a table closer to the exit. Yuta had walked right past his beneficiary without even noticing. And now all he could see was their heels as they left the restaurant in a hurry, the bussers descending upon the table to clean it up as quickly as possible for the next guest. The sheep tried racking his brain to see if he could pull any information from a few moments ago, but he couldn't. He looked back to the manager, who was still holding the bottle.