It was rare for Yama to attend social events of this magnitude, hell, any size, and one could expect the standoffish tailor to skip out on it entirely. Still, he was here, even if the man had taken respite against a wall in the grand venue. It was obvious by his posture that Yama was trying to avoid standing out too much, attempting to be obscured.
To keep his hands busy, Yama swirled the champagne in his flute, a pensive expression on his face as he pressed the glass against his lips....