"I am," She whispered. Mariko barely caught it, her voice was so tinny and quiet. "If it is me to whom you are talking to." Well, duh. It wasn't as if there was anyone else even near them. "I am Tomohina Mizukimura. Pleased to meet your acquaintance." Mariko paused, trying to remember that name. For some reason, she was expecting Yamato Nadeshiko. It was uncanny. Had she be born, or had some Kamakura-era artist hewn her image out of rock and given it life? Mariko could've accepted either explanation. The sudden lull in coversation forced her to stutter something to fill the awkward silence.

"So, erm, are you new? Did you just trasfe-"

She stopped. Tomohina-han had her head tilted, like she'd just heard an irritating fly. Her gaze had shifted, too, over Mariko's shoulder. On her aquaintance's request, she turned to look. Someone had slid the door open, or something, letting noise from the corridor in. There were sounds of some kerfuffle outside, too. She stood up, and made her way to the door, before poking her head outside and listening in on some of the conversation. Then she strolled back to her spot. "Nothing much" she told Yam-uh, Tomohina. "Just seems like a lot of kids can't find where class 2-4 is. I didn't even know we [i]had[/i] a class 2-4. Must be 'cause of all the new kids that transferred in this year."