Kunzite walked into a rather crowded sun room - at least, a bit more crowded than he had seen it previously - and headed immediately to the bulletin board. A soft curse escaped his lips; he had not meant to miss his scheduled encounter with Homura, but an ill feeling in his stomach - no doubt brought on by that odd-tasting melon - sidelined him for much of the shift. He thus hoped that the man would be around again now; even armed with an extensive map of the place, his few excursions during the night provided him with few answers. Granted, the company he followed could have been better, but this ignorance was primarily his own fault. If he wanted answers, he would need to properly cooperate with others; using people here was out of the question, at least for the immediate future. This "History Club" surely seemed like a good place to start.

He saw Homura instantly: an anxious yet impatient individual, his eyes colored startlingly differently - more so than he expected - with his back to the wall at one side of the board. Kunzite walked to the man calmly, stopping a few feet in front of him and bowing. "You are Homura?" he asked, making sure he had the right individual. "I am Kunzite, and I apologize for missing our previously arranged rendezvous."