Yamato had spent the entirety of the previous two days recovering. As it turned out, the Zoanthrope's kick had still managed to leave a pretty nasty bruise, healing or no healing, and keeping it hidden had been kind of a pain in the ass. He'd left investigating to the others - he had no leads, and the sword had been uncomfortably quiet as of two days ago. He'd ended up spending most of the day at home, trying to relax. Normally, that wouldn't have been the case, but he figured he'd worried his parents enough, and there had been absolutely no reports of Zoanthrope attacks since the day they fought the big whale one.
He'd needed to get away from the house, though. He was restless, and things had been far too tense between his dad and him as of late. If Yamato was to guess, his dad was either finally putting the pieces together, or already had and was waiting for a good time to confront him about things. That was one conversation he wasn't too interested in having just yet, though. Maybe in a few days, but not now.
As it was, he put on one of the many tracksuits he owned, a dark blue one with white stripes, and tried to go for a jog to let loose some of the energy that had built up. He needed to keep fit, after all. Sure, it was earlier in the evening than he usually went, but...
...but, as it turned out, his plans were to be side-tracked by something different entirely. He'd been jogging down a sidewalk that seemed familiar for a minute or two, but it wasn't until he turned around that he realized why it seemed familiar.
'Isn't that Sparki's steakhouse?'
It figured he'd end up here. Usually, that'd be that, but it wasn't hard to see the gathering in the steakhouse through the window. He approaches, letting himself in.
"Yo."