The inside of the arena still feels loose, unfinished. Rows of empty seats stretch upward, ushers standing with their hands folded, more hopeful than busy.
Okabe cranes his neck, scanning. "We can basically sit anywhere, right?"
Ryohei nods, already stepping sideways into a better angle. "Front is too obvious. Back's pointless. Somewhere with a clean view, but not dead center."
Meanwhile, Kenta's eye move more carefully than the rest, gauging sightlines, exits, habits drilled into him by years of corners and waiting rooms.
And that's when he spots it. Aki, two sections down, waving her arm just a little too enthusiastically for someone who's supposed to be working. When Kenta notices her, she doesn't stop, just switches to a subtler motion, fingers beckoning.
Kenta exhales. "…Of course."
Ryohei follows his line of sight. Then his eyes widen. "Wait."
Okabe squints. "Is that…?"
With cap pulled low, collar turned up, sits Nakahara, very focused on not being noticed.
