Everything was perfect, of course.
Lazuli was getting used to that. Kenji Amber was a raev; perfection was a driving goal in his life. In this case, the perfection in question seemed to be that of a plan coming together. From school to home to dinner, transportation went without a hitch. They had a table reserved, and Kenji had ordered ahead; appetizers were laid on not two minutes after they took their seats. The meal itself took longer – he hadn’t ordered that on Lazuli’s behalf – but they had something to nibble on while they waited.