It was always in late August that the inhabitants of University City started to speed around. In the air, one could smell the changing atmosphere. The prospect of fall and the whole city being painted in a mellow palette of autumn leaves were images the more active part of society wished to forget. They couldn’t afford to slow down after all, all it took was one cool autumn breeze to blow out the fiery embers of summer. So businesses went into overdrive. Flash sales, season clearances, anything to keep them busy and those around them buying. It was to this active wind of University City, and ultimately Chiharu, that freshman and those returning were caught in.

On the streets of the inner city, where majority of the freshmen dorms lie, traffic could be seen backed up for blocks on end. Out of the half a million people that populated University City, roughly eight hundred thousand migrated in and out yearly during this time.

It was for this reason that autumn was known in University City as the season of boxes.

Even those who weren’t driving and slamming their faces into the wheel of their car out of frustration, could be seen lugging around boxes. The sidewalks were packed with eager faces, individuals happy to finally step foot back (or for the first time) into the lively student community, and boxes. Obstructing, obscene boxes that seemed to house the very lives of those who carried them. From above, either in the dorms or the large office buildings, it looked like a mind boggling game of Tetris.

Everyone was just trying to fit in.

For those students that finally got settled down and unpacked, which weren’t many considering the packed conditions of the streets, Chiharu had special plans. The various clubs and organizations worked with local vendors to set up stalls around campus where students could eat and interact with one another all the while being bombarded by sign-up sheets. One could usually find teachers scattered about, either on duty or just supporting the clubs they administrated. In the middle of it all was the Dean of Admissions, the bastard who loved to screw with the hopes of dreams of teach-

The man’s pen suddenly stopped moving as a worn smile could be seen spreading across his face. Whirling the writing utensil skillfully around his in fingers he closed the notebook and looked up to examine the scene before him.

Just as he was describing before, the welcoming event at Chiharu blossomed with life and in the middle of it all was the beautiful and gracious Dean of Admissions, Inoue Asako. Her creamy brown hair was civilized and composed, her face sharp and refined to the T, a beautiful piece of eye candy that packed too much arsenic for even G-man himself to consume. She was, in his opinion, everything evil and everything beautiful in life. Just thinking about her was wrong, but it felt so right.

Sitting near the stall which served wonderful pieces of charcoal cooked skirt steaks was the man known as Robert S. Gestalt, or just Rob if you were a friend. To his students, he was simply Professor Gestalt or Captain Gestalt, or maybe Dadd-

Cutting himself off, the middle-aged man ran his bony hands through his graying hair, which just a couple years ago, use to be black with veins of gray. Now, well, it was gray with veins of black. Looking behind him to confirm it was still standing, the lanky man started eating off the plate that rested next to his notebook. Behind the man was a large flag, one that was a fiery red with a black sword and shield resting at the center. Under the crossing sword and shield were the letters FJA in a fancy cursive.

While classes didn’t officially start until tomorrow, the man started teaching today. It was here, at the skirt steak station, he waited for his students. He had sent out an e-mail weeks ago, even going through the trouble of hand writing a couple of letters to those who didn’t have access to a computer. It was because of this he expected everyone to arrive by three o’ clock sharp. What if they didn’t show up and claimed they never saw or received the e-mail? Lies. All lies. He knew, however he did, that every message he had sent out had been read by those who should have read them. Despite his usually disheveled appearance, the man was undeniable sharp to the point where it was almost mystical, similar to the Dean of Admissions herself. Sitting alone in his black blazer and crinkled blue dress shirt, he was the splintering some gazes away from the secretively busty woman.

Rather than looks of affection, however, he received looks of curiosity and pity. To many, he was just a poor old man eating steak alone, while the figure on the stage was the leader of youth and the new world. Why was he there? Which club was he supporting? What class did he teach? He smiled again, knowingly to himself. It was obvious enough who he was.

Just a mere side character to the genius known as their glorious Dean.

He was just a teacher waiting for his students; a writer waiting for his pen.

-Yuuji

It was a day unlike any other day of summer, one in which the tepid heat of the dog days gave away to a cooler warmth, where the sun shone brightly, but did not melt away those underneath it. Late August was a pleasant and yet, regrettable period of time. Summer break had ended and freshmen were popping in all over the place. A second year himself, Ren Akimoto found the scenes of new students dragging around heavy boxes full of luggage slightly endearing. It reminded him of himself, before he realized that it was smarter just to pack light and buy what you needed. Maybe it could be considered the logic of a rich person, but he had worked during the summer in order to get enough money to finance all his needs for this year.

Well, depending on how it goes, perhaps it’d only be enough for this semester. Ren didn’t have much of anything in terms of meeting old friends or going partying during the national holidays, so it was pretty obvious that he’d probably blow it all away one night. Not that he liked thinking that far into the future. Stuff like that only stressed him out.

The raven-haired youth took in a deep breath of the autumn air, enjoying a transient moment of silence, before the noise of the crowd collapsed on him once more. The many trees that circled the courtyard of Chiharu were turning ablaze, becoming red and orange in response to the creeping autumn. The Dean of Admissions, a lovely lady that looked more like a model than an academic, was beginning her speech with the same cheerful, energetic manner in which she conducted herself last semester. Looking at her face, he managed a small smile. It must have been one of the highlights of her life, seeing the faces of those that survived the tribulations of Chiharu entrance exams.

But he wasn’t here to listen to Asako’s speech.

Flicking open his IPhone 12, complete with multi-touch and a 6G Network that allowed for light-speed processing, he exited his Puzzles and Dragons application and checked his e-mail once more for confirmation. FJA 531, the only class that was starting on the very first day. Going all out in the beginning, huh? Sounded interesting, if nothing else. Maybe they’ll do an icebreaker between classmates, cause from what he had heard, the class size was remarkably small for what appeared to be a GPA booster course.

It wasn’t hard to find the ‘classroom’ as well, considering how easily the FJA sign stood out. Cute, little thing, reminded him of something that one would see in a fantasy war anime. The man sitting in front of the flag was a foreigner as well, one that Ren hadn’t yet seen around in campus. Walking up to the professor with a harmless little smile, he asked cheekily, “How does my tuition taste, Prof?”

Within the Mindscape

A young man swordsman, eighteen years of age knelt before a golden throne, his gaze locked to the velvet carpet below him. He was covered from shoulder to toe in a set of armor shining with luster, engraved with a plethora of flashy embroideries, which differentiated in a colorful palette of shades. The armrests of the throne were made out of a flossy skin, wrapped in viridescent scales. At the end of the rests were six lifeless snake heads stared blankly at the cladded human. With them were two more, fastened at the peak of the throne’s crest rail, which flicked their tongues as their eyes narrowed at him. They emitted faint hisses, but were quickly shunned by the person sitting in the throne itself. The older man was sporting facial hair which would decimate the pride of any who attempted to compare. A full fledged beard and a mustache, accompanied by flowing hair which would woo any woman within an instant. This man- well, god, was no other than Susanoo, deity of sea and storms. Controller of tides, thrasher of waves, slayer of Yamata no Orochi.

”Rise, my herald; Cormorant of Shadows.”

Why the god of the sea and storms forced such a dreary title was beyond his contemplation. But, he had gotten used to it, and swiftly abided by his father’s command. Without a moment’s delay the swordsman straightened his back, his armor pieces clanking as they brushed against each other. A grey shield draped over his back, within it a red cross was etched beautifully. He raised his head to face the god, looking at the elder straight in the eyes.

”You understand your mission, correct?”

The boy gave a quick nod of affirmation. But the man still displayed a dubious expression, the lingering feeling to take precautions was present.

”Well, just to reinterate. You have been contacted by an envoy of the Grand Chiharu Council, which has requested your assistance. It is believed that there is a source of malicious energy somewhere within the region. They wish for you to live under the identity of one of their pupils, and eliminate the source of their problems. It may take weeks, months, maybe even years. But this quest shall render quite the reward, one which will benefit you for the entirety of your life. Bountiful knowledge and eternal profits, something which is greatly sought after. I wish you the best of luck, my dear child. May your benevolence guide you entry to such a path. Also…”

The man trailed off, until his complexion was suddenly filled with anger and displeasement.

”Why the hell are you kneeling in my cab?!”

Back to Realiy:

Shadouu’s eyes refocused, leaping back into his seat with a start. The young man was at a loss of breath, briskly repeating the process of inhaling and exhaling.

”And for the love of god, fasten your seat belt! If I get into a car crash, you are going to fly out of the window!” The taxi driver yelled back in a hoarse tone, something must have ticked him off. Oh, right, Shadouu was on his knees in the back row, mumbling to himself. That happened. ”But, I don’t think we’re going anywhere. Come on, move, move!” Or maybe it was the traffic moving at a snail’s pace which had blown this man’s fuse. Either way, he was in an angered state, and their destination wouldn’t be in sight for a while. Iruda clicked his tongue, instantly realizing those who were responsible for the traffic blockage.

”Tch. The Shrouded Ones have impaired my chariot. Luckily, I have another one I can summon!” After throwing some cash at the man, the student flew through the bluntly opened door, landing on the sidewalk. He found himself enveloped in an ocean of passerbies, all heading to their different places. Shadouu was just a lone soul in the midst of thousands, a minescule pebble in a quarry. He had to find the proper route, otherwise he would miss the check-in time. The young man held out his phone, then dramatically opened his eyes with a stern look, Guide of Lost Souls, and Chariot of Shadows, I summon you!” The maps application on his cellular device opened, outlining the fastest way to the university. He then tapped the heels of his shoes, colored in a dark scheme. Though they were outdated, the heelys still had an inexplainable charisma to them, showing off the essence of modern day fashion. In all honesty, it was for those who were too lazy to walk. Which, judging by the sales, was quite the large crowd.

Shadouu set off on his course, navigating his way through the traveling students with finesse and ease, directing himself with slight foot movements. By the time he had arrived, the dead was in the middle of a glamorous speech. He listened intently, captivated by the fluency of her voice. It was able to speak out to its listeners over the bustling of the city backdrop. But, soon enough, he must not forget his objective. Students were either watching the dean, or were lugging their luggage off scene. Even though his father had sent his luggage a week in advance, instead of tending to it, the student was forced to proceed to the only class he had. FJA 531, what he perceived as the group his employer would place him in. Soon, he found his teacher, with another student in his presence. A grin parted on his face, Shadouu focused on the professor, ”Do not fret, for the Herald of- I mean… Shadouu Iruda has arrived. May I act effici- oooooh, steak~” He quickly seized a few cuts of the meal, and dug into the delicacy.

After the long tedious process for the. . . What, third time now? Now, she just needed to empty these boxes into their proper places. This here, that there. All the while, she was mostly curious as to what her roommate would be like. About all she knew, is that this mysterious roommate would be a girl when, no, if she showed up. According to past occurrences, that might be a possible outco-

The front door suddenly slammed open, slightly surprising Ami and interrupting her thought process. In the doorway stood a girl wearing a surgical mask over her mouth and carrying a large briefcase behind her.

"Yahoo-" She started coughing before she could finish, turning back around and slowly closing the door behind her. That introduction would've had a bit more impact if she didn't have a coughing fit and left before it finished. Her coughing fit could be heard through the walls. When she calmed down, Ami heard the girl giving herself a peptalk, telling herself that there was no problem and to just try again.

Once more, the door slammed open and the girl gave a thumbs up.

"Yahooo~! I'm Ikioi Kenko, your roommate. You can call me Kenko!" She finished excitedly, her nasally voice giving away the fact that she was ill. Ami laughed a little. Not really from humor, but from the awkwardness of the whole ordeal.

"My name's Yukimura Ami. You new blood?" She asked the girl. "Freshblo- I mean, Freshman." Kenko was slightly confused by Ami's reference to blood, but she quickly shook it off.

"Uh... Oh, yeah," she sniffled as she pulled her luggage in and closed the door behind her, "I just got here; it's my first year at Chiharu Uni, Yukimura-san."

"How fun." Ami mumbled as her attention turned to Kenko's mask. That and her cough probably meant she was sick or something. She took note of it. Really, she'd never been sick. Back to business, "Well, Kenko, I'm a third year. If you want, you can call me Aneki." Her hands went down to her side and she made a small laugh, "Shishishi. . ." Kenko raised an eyebrow at Ami's request, but decided not to question it.

"Sure, Aneki."

"Your beds over there anyhow." Ami said, pointing to the bed on the opposite end of the room from her. Kenko followed Ami's finger with her eyes and spotted the bed. Giving a small salute, she slipped off her shoes in the genkan and pulled her luggage along towards the bed. "If you want," Ami interjected, "you can take the mask off in here. Like I'm going to let myself be scared of. . . Uhm, whatever illness you have." Kenko stopped and glanced at Ami, her face full of suspicion. After thinking about it for a moment, Kenko shrugged and pulled the mask off.

"If you say so, Aneki."

Tossing her luggage roughly onto the bed, she decided to take the time to look around the room before unpacking. Spotting a clock, she blinked a few times then smiled nervously.

"Uwah, I might be late," she said softly to herself before putting her mask back on and rummaging through her bag. "Hey, Aneki. Do you know where the, uh... Fantasy and Japanese Animation class is meeting up?"

"Fantasy and. . . OH DAMN! I forgot about that." She jumped up, surprising Kenko with her sudden outburst and movement, and brushed her clothes off with her hands. "Yea, I think I remember where it is." Opening the door it looked like she had just remembered something, "Oh right, you needed to go too, didn't you Kenko?" Kenko made a bitter face at that comment and wondered if it was just Ami teasing the freshman.

Ami made a wide, exaggerated motion to Kenko, "Let's go."

"H-hang on! Time. . . Time out, Aneki! I need. . . a break. . !" Kenko struggled to get her words out between pants, jogging alongside the taller and faster Ami as they searched for the meeting zone of the FJA class. Kenko had confidence in her stamina, but she underestimated the crowds of newly arrived freshmen. Weaving between them while keeping up with Ami who somehow managed to walk through them perfectly fine. It was only when the shop was in view that Kenko understood that it wasn't the fact that Ami was fast, but rather everyone else was trying to stay out of Ami's way and instead getting in Kenko's way.

"No time to slow down. If you're having problems keeping up," Ami said as she turned around to the struggling Kenko. Her arms went out and picked the girl up in a princess-style carry. "Up you go."

"Woah hang on no stop!" As if Kenko had a second wind, she tried struggling against Ami's arms with more energy than she had when she was jogging beside her. Luckily, Ami had enough stamina to endure it and Kenko soon stopped after realizing that she'd fall if she manage to struggle free. But there's no way Kenko wanted to be carried there. "Okay, okay, I get it. You can put me down now, Aneki. I'll keep up. I'll k- I said I'll keep up!"

Ami kept the girl in her arms. "You're light so it's not really a problem."

"No, it's a big problem."

"I'm just glad you stopped writhing around a lot. That's a sure-fire way to fall out of my arms and hurt your cute butt."

"IT'S A BIG, BIG PROBLEM, BUSTER!" Kenko started thrashing about even more wildly than before, attracting a decent amount of attention but not enough to be an event. Kenko wasn't one to judge another person's interests, but Kenko wasn't particularly fond of being an interest. Before all that, though, Kenko really wasn't fond of being carried like she is.

"Let me go!" She cried out angrily, continuing her savage struggle with a bit of surprise and admiration at Ami's persistance. She still managed to hold Kenko up. "Let me go or else I'll. . ." Kenko suddenly stopped moving and her face paled. "W-wait. You really got to let me go now-" At her last word, she covered her mouth with one hand and pushed away from Ami with the other. Wiggling around so violently when she was sick was not a very smart move on Kenko's part.

A little worried now, Ami carried Kenko to a little out of the way alley. Not really anyone there at least. "Oi'. You alright there Kenko?" She asked as she set the girl down and watched her clamor towards a wall away from Ami.

"You were sick weren't you."

Kenko pulled her mask down and pressed her forehead against the ground. Taking a few deep breaths, Kenko slowly stood up and put the mask back on her face. Spinning on her heel, she faced Ami and gave her a thumbs up.

"I just needed a bre-" She pulled her mask off and spun around in one gloriously smooth motion and expelled the contents of her stomach on the wall, which apparently wasn't very much. She stood there for a few moments, spitting out the remaining acidic taste and licking her lips, then she put the mask back on, spun around, and tried again with two thumbs up.

"I just needed a break it seems!" She sang cheerfully, pretending that the scene before didn't happen. "Now, let's go find the class. We're close, right? I can walk the rest of the way."

"If you're sure about that." Ami didn't really question it any futher and led the girl to where they needed to go. "Here we are, I believe." She turned to Kenko and gave her a cocky smile. "Thank you for choosing Yukimura Airlines. We would love for you, the passenger, to choose us again."

"Maybe if Aneki had airliner food next time," Kenko played along, though her tone when she used the word "aneki" was rather angry. Heaving a soft sigh, she looked towards their destination. Kenko spotted two students, both boys, and an older man in front of a large and obnoxious flag that was undoubtedly the banner of the FJA class. Maybe he's the teacher, Kenko wondered. One of the students was already digging into some meat. It was probably due to Kenko losing her lunch earlier but her stomach rumbled at the sight.

"I guess this is it? It looks like there's even free food!" Kenko mused, not even trying to hide the fact that she was hungry.

Somewhere hidden deep within the shadows of the University City, in a quiet and practically abandoned neighborhood, there stood an old four story apartment.

There, light was welcomed in by the curtain-less windows, whose cold stained glass went warm with bashful affection. Late August was a time of sweet smells and soft smiles that echoed the remnants of secret summers, which were hidden freshly under the many folds of memory.

It was no different for the resident of this run-down apartment.

In fact, it was safe to say that August meant more to her than anyone else.

While the hand of the overhead clock continued to peel away at the eighth month, a fresh coat of golden orange paint made the room glow, promising to no one in particular that August was here to stay. It was through these trivial battles against time that she found comfort. Cast aside by happiness, left in the dust by despair, the girl known as Oshita Kazuki spent much of her time locking herself out of reality through these senseless acts.

Lying motionlessly in the center of the small room, was a pale figure barely covered in her childishly pink sheets. Her hair, like tiny ropes, was scattered in all directions as if to keep the girl from being spirited away. A single leg stuck out immodestly from beneath the sheets, as if tempting the sun to join her under the covers. A weak grin with a just the right pinch of pain, made her usually stern face strangely attractive.

Opening her mouth, she rolled from one side of her bed to another.

The sound of distant traffic echoed inside the silent room.

Even now, as time danced and cried in the city around her, she was lost in her dreamless sleep.

From within the realm of her empty dreams, Kazuki could hear something faint. A soft tune, one that sounded like wind chimes, reminded her that she was in fact still alive. It reminded her that there was a warm sun burning somewhere, a musical of senseless chatter that had to be listened to, a love to be found.

She opened her eyes to find the familiar cracked ceiling.

Mumbling something incoherent, the figure suddenly rose from bed in all dispassionate nudity, before making her way to the bathroom.

“Some bullshi-“

The bathroom door slammed shut, muffling the tired, but nevertheless, annoyed voice.

---

Standing before a mob of students, many of whom had that nauseating smell of money, Kazuki let out a sigh before rubbing her brow.

This was the first time she had step foot on campus during a welcoming event, and likely the last.

To think that people actually came to these things, what a j-

In the distance she heard the sizzling of cooking oil and banging of overworked woks, opening up the nose that she had refused to breathe through since entering this people pit, she took in a deep breath. The smell of food was majestic, her famished-self carried her from stall to stall, collecting small samples of the strange delicacies that she usually never had the chance to eat.

On the way, she nibbled intently off the small plate of goods, her once cold reflective eyes turning all mushy and intoxicated.

To think that people actually don’t come to these things, what a joke!

Finding herself having wandered near a tall flag, she remembered that she had come here for a reason. Reaching into her ripped jeans, she pulled out a folded piece of fancy paper.

She smiled before looking up at the flag that waved just overhead and those who surrounded it.

An old man, a boy that stinks of money, a runt, a sick girl, and a bottle-blonde.

“Hope I’m not late, Professor Gestalt.”

There was slight undertone of sarcasm, mostly because she didn’t care what he thought.

She wasn’t really interested in what he had to teach either.

She was here for the people, who for now, seemed interesting enough.

What was there to say about what Shourei was doing? He was minding his own business of course. He's already finished packing up this things days ago. It was fairly small stuff; a cheap wooden desk, a single bed, swivel chair, and somewhere to store his clothes. Of course, he also packed his clothes, his laptop, tools, some food to last him the month, and hygiene products. Anything that wasn't furniture he fit into a single box. He was fortunate that his parents let him take the family's truck; not the most luxurious ride, but he could haul an entire house with it if he had the right equipment.

The first few days he was at the university, at least before the opening day, was rather overwhelming to Shourei. Though he has been here in the past, moving in was like entering a new world in an MMO; massive, aesthetically attractive, and filled with places and things that Shourei wanted to go discover. Also like an MMO, after a day or two of exploring he pretty much figured out where everyone hangs out at, what places are pretty much just there for vanity, and how to quickly get between the hubs. The travel between was filled with boredom or annoyances that at best could be dealt with with a few quick actions, or at worse forces you to take an entirely new path because that one guy won't move and seems to only be there to bully everyone. If it was darker, Shourei would have hit him with his crowbar.

That being said, there was plenty of events going on, and Shourei figured he might as well find a group who he could hang out with. A few days ago he caught wind of this "Fantasy and Japanese Animation" club, or FJA. Seemed to be a glorified otaku club to him, but he was fine with that. Though he would rather prefer to succeed during his time at C.U. there was nothing wrong with having hobbies. If nothing else, he was sure there was going to be some of the finest pieces of ass in the school. Either in person or on the big screen.

Which is why he was already in the classroom. He had been since this morning. He popped a window open with his crowbar, went inside, and was now hiding in the closet. Sure that might have been "Breaking and entering" and maybe he was suppose to sign up at the front door or else he'd lose out on the steaks, but this was for first impressions! Besides, there was an outlet here and he wanted to play on his laptop. The sounds of axe-educed death blared into Shourei's earphones as he continued his path of destruction through The Exiled Realm of Arborea.

Indigo stepped across the dorm-room, empty bags and boxes in his hands. He set them at the end of his bed, stacked up in a neat pile. It was a nice room, a nice big window right beside his bed. He could look out of it and seem to be flying, the cars were like ants and beetles. He had a rather large desk on the opposite side, right next to his dresser, that had a laptop sitting on it, opened up to his email. Indigo settled into the office chair that sat in front of the desk and rolled it closer, scanning through his emails. Emails family wishing him luck, emails from a few websites he took part in, and an email from the college. Not just the college, but the FJA club. He clicked it and read through it a few times, making sure he did not miss anything. He was to be there at 3 o'clock exactly. Seeing as it was noon he knew he had time, so he cleaned up the room a bit.

He made sure that the bed was made, all nice and comfy, and he had placed an odd, twisty kind of lamp on his bedside table. As it turned out, it had a darker blue light bulb in it for some reason. Of course it did, he bought it from some old pawn shop. He decided that it could wind up being cool, and left it alone. He quickly checked the clock and noticed there was an hour left. He spent about 45 minutes relaxing and watching the cars go by outside his window. As the time arrived, he walked down to the hall in which club was held. He entered the classroom quietly, glancing around the room.

He saw several people, one obviously the teacher, and everybody else students just like him. He walked over and sat in a chair, being sure not to speak with anybody. He didn't need to make that mistake, he didn't need to accidentally make an enemy on the first day. He found that most people were eating. Hmm... Odd..., he thought. Indigo scanned the entire classroom now. He could definitely tell that he was in the right place. It had many aspects that reminded him of many different varieties of Fantasy and Japanese Animation, just as he expected.

After a moment of thinking, he frowned. He knew he'd have to learn who these people word, and muttered, "Sparare"(Shoot). He studied some of the students, picking out the ones and assuming which clique they belonged to. Everybody seemed about his age. A couple dark-haired boys and two light-haired girls. They all looked alright, none of them looked like they wanted to kill him. "Grazie, God."(Thank God), he said, only a bit louder now. He stood up and decided he could go for some steak. He grabbed a plate an dug in, making the most of the situation.

There was, at first, the Akimoto boy. It was easy to identify anyone from the Akimoto family simply from how they carried themselves. Having had the pleasure of teaching several individuals that had been adopted into the Akimoto family, Gestalt let out a small grumble of joy as he turned his head to face the cheeky raven-haired youth.

It was always the ‘strange’ ones from that family that landed before him.

“Rather bland, if you must ask.” His eyes twinkled with a soft admiration as he examined this particular boy, “I’m glad to see the Akimoto family is still busy at work.”

Turning back to his meal, the professor once again started to lift his fork and knife. The menacing sound of clashing silverware was strangely loud in the boy’s ear.

Above him, the crimson flag with the crossed sword and shield danced noisily in the wind.

“So Ren, did someone from your family recommend taking this course? Or was it perhaps just fate that carried another Akimoto to me?”

His answer would be silenced, lost in the wind, as Gestalt shifted his attention to the others that arrived in intervals. To his pleasure, there was no more Akimotos in the midst. They were each so genuine in characteristics as well.

There was a charming young bottle blonde, one who bustled with life and energy both physically and emotionally; a distracted messenger, who dug mindlessly into the skirt steaks offered at the stall; a well-mannered, but nevertheless indulgent girl with a sickly disposition; and last, but not least, a sarcastic and rude ghost who carried with her a color palette.

A few seconds went by as he reviewed the list in his head, a somewhat dumbfounded smile spreading across his face.

The man paused, opening his book in a silent and composed motion, before finally slamming the book shut after a few seconds.

He was missing three students.

Taking in a deep breath, he tapped his knuckles on the table before looking over those before him.

“Come with me,” he muttered in frustration, “And you, sarcastic ghost, carry the flag.”

---

At 3:32 he had finally managed to find one of the three missing students.

Apparently the Italian-American had found himself at the wrong place, seating himself among a fantasy club that was being housed in one of the few school buildings that were open for the welcoming event.

At first the man wanted to scold him out, but after careful examination of how disturbingly similar the club event was (they even had their own skirt steak vendor), the man relented before silently dragging the youthful foreigner out of the clubroom.

“We were outside,” he spoke in English, “I should have been more specific...”

Seeing as to how his class had already been delayed by thirty minutes, he only hoped that the others would show up eventually. He guided the group through the polished and extravagant halls of Chiharu, climbing the royal staircase to the second floor of the fifty story building.

Upon entering the room, he moved to the front of the large and barren classroom. It was empty save for a single large closet and a podium that sat in the front of the classroom.

“Could you guys open some of the windows? Also bring put the flag in the closet by the outlet.”

Obviously tired, he quickly flipped several switches behind the podium, before letting himself fall back off his tired feet.

Like magic, several sleek desks and chairs rose from the ground near the front of the classroom. A tall and intimidating chair erected behind Gestalt, catching him as he fell back.

“Please sit down after you open the windows. We’re going to start the class with a silly ice-breaker.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he crossed his legs before closing his eyes.

“State your full name, age, and intended major. Then let me know in two sentences what love means to you. Oh, and whoever goes first gets five percent added on his or her first exam, which is a week from tomorrow, by the way.”

Knocking on the board that sat behind him with his knuckles, the old professor stretched before sitting up straight.

“Now who’d like to go first?”

"Shourei Yang. Eighteen years old. Computer Science. Booties are love. Booties for life."

Emerging from the closet Shourei made his entrance. His laptop and back was still safely hidden away, as he had been waiting for the teacher's arrive for the past thirty minutes. He noted the chairs and desks that were not here when he first entered, but decided not to pay much mind to them. Magic or science, it was all the same to him. Shourei took a seat at the nearest desk to the front after someone opened the windows, though technically he already did that himself.

"And if I may say, I like what I see so far." Shourei peered as more students filed into the doors, looking around their waist and hip area. He even shot a glace at the teacher, who he would with only slight hesitance would admit "You've got something going on." Hopefully his first impression would let everyone know that he isn't the shy type, since now he doesn't really plan to say much more about himself. He reclined in his seat as he fiddled with his phone in his pocket, listening to music in a small wireless ear bud. So small in fact, one could mistake it as a hearing aid.

(Crying a river now.)

After following the teacher around for a bit that day was a bit of a wonky thing, so Ami was glad when the chairs and desks came out of the ground. Hell, it's been. . . What, two years since she came to Chiharu? She still didn't get use to any of the different mechanisms they had at the school. Then the Professor asked them to do a get to know each other exercise, “State your full name, age, and intended major. Then let me know in two sentences what love means to you. Oh, and whoever goes first gets five percent added on his or her first exam, which is a week from tomorrow, by the way.” Five percent!? Ami couldn't let that one go!

"I shall, Gestalt-Sen!" Ami almost shouted as she stood up and raised her hand. Almost, as in, someone beat her to the punch. "Shourei Yang. Eighteen years old. Computer Science. Booties are love. Booties for life." It was a bit upsetting. She was hoping for five percent on the exam. Instead, she was beaten to the punch by someone who said "Booties are love. Booties for life." Let alone social acceptance, one could live like that? What the fetish he must have. Still, this man. . . He must not be forgiven. Shourei Yang. She would remember that name for her missing free five percent.

She almost too grumpily stood up and spoke after him. "My name is Ami Yukimura, Age 20, Creative Writing major." She took a bow to the class, "A pleasure."

She cleared her throat. And disposed of the disappointment in her voice. "Two sentences on what I think of love, huh?" She muttered. "Alright. One's life should be for justice. One finds love in life, therefore, Love is Justice." If nothing else, there was no hesitation in her voice. It was spoken clearly and no red blushes of embarrassment either. Her hand made a fist level to her chest. "Hehehe. Justice." She silently laughed to herself. One thing she didn't think of really, was that her small sense of justice most likely didn't match up to everyone else's in the class room. "So that's me and him. Who's next?"

An interesting lot had gathered around the bountiful table of skirt steak. ”Ah, the Cornucopia of Vitulus! Such a grand gift, I guess I can indulge myself whilst on a mission.” He thought to himself innocently. Like a constantly moving conveyor belt, he was moving cuts onto his plate and chewing them down in one fluent flow of motion. Another girl snuck beside him and treated herself to the cuisine, lowering her surgical mask to scarf down the beef, at a rate almost on par with Shadouu. But there was an aura which encased the girl, one which set the Shield of Joseph at unease. Though he had full faith that the magical item would protect from whatever illnesses she harbored, it was still smart to be on the safe side. Following her was a… temptress. And a pale skinned warrior, who could probably crack person's neck with her pinky. Then proceed to break the poor victim’s ribs, thighs, and skull. He shuddered, thinking of the tear-jerking and agonizing pain. Before he could gorge on the remains of the meal, the teacher moved them on, tearing Shadouu away from his overly aperitive breakfast.

Aside from nearly unleashing the wrath of Kusanagi on the technologically advanced closet dweller-monster-thing, who openly expressed his admiration for cheeks, it had been an exhilarating trip through the halls of the school. Though, after evading a minor case of cardiac arrest, he paced over towards one of the blinds, allowing sunlight to enter the classroom upon his teacher’s request. As he spun around to face his classmates, he lept back a meter as a desk blinked into existence. Shadouu pouted over what he could have experienced. Chances are, his thin head would have been wedged into the roof, and would have received another inoperable eye in the process. The student fidgeted with his medical eyepatch, sliding it into a more comfortable position. Letting out a sigh of relief, he happily took a seat when he was authorized to. And, without his knowing, he had been beaten to the punch for extra credit, by the closet inhabitant no less.

”Who’s next?”

Once the blonde student finished her introduction, Shadouu energetically shot out of his seat, planting his palms soundly on his desk. ”My name is Shadouu Iruda! Eighteen years of age! Major in thea-” The student abruptly cut himself off, his mouth hanging open as the words were cut short. ”Wait, what? That’s not what I put on my application.” He was quick to correct himself, ”Major in Physical Education. Yes, I will teach my pupils to be strong and valiant.” His response wasn’t as firm or devout as the others prior, but it had to suffice. ”Oh, and love is the spiritual connection between souls! Always have your loved one’s back!” He crossed his arms and nodded with confidence, then took his seat and reclined. As the next student spoke up, the young man felt his mind wander slightly, contemplating what he nearly blurted out earlier. ”What was that? I’m quite sure father and I decided on PE, but where’d that come from?” He shrugged off any doubt, focusing on his classmates.

”I wonder where the other three have been? Haven’t seem them around lately, hope they have been doing well. Old man said they’ve been on a journey for a few years, but still. What’s taken them so long?” He let out a sigh as he leaned forward in his desk, listening intently to the teacher’s next sacrifice.

A slumped form slowly rose from its desk, yawning as another wave of drowsiness assaulted him. He cast his eyes around the room, but his mind didn’t recognize anything as it dealt with the urge to fall back asleep. Unaware of when he had even fallen asleep in the first place, Kana finally stilled as the last urges were dealt with as he noticed the bright sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Running a hand through his messy hair, he murmured, “Ah shit… I’m late.”

And late he might have been, but there wasn’t a particular rush for Kana to reach the university. Class didn’t even technically start until tomorrow as the campus grounds were used for the welcoming event, but the professor had seen fit to decide otherwise. Everything, from getting dressed to tidying up, was done at a casual pace as he moved across the small apartment that was his home.

The sounds of the busy city hit him in full force when he finally stepped outside, and he frowned at the sudden, if expected, influx of noise as he closed the heavy door gently. Fumbling momentarily, Kana sighed softly as he placed his pair of headphones on, the outside noise muffled and eventually drowned out by music, before he went on his way.
_____________________________________
The school grounds were packed as expected given the ongoing event, and Kana was glad to be tall as his height let him navigate the crowds with ease. He wasn’t rude persay, but people generally got out of his way when he moved forward.

Headphones on, cell phone in hand, and gaze avoiding any of the set-up stalls, he was nevertheless left alone by the club representatives that hounded the attendees. Other students were here to look around at what clubs and associations were in attendance. Kana was here to find a teacher that decided classes started one day earlier than usual and it showed.

He couldn’t really say he was surprised that what he found was an empty space between two stalls. Given his tardiness, it seemed that the professor had decided to take those that had arrived elsewhere, likely the classroom. With a new destination in mind, Kana made sure to grab some steak from the nearby stall before wandering off in search of the classroom mentioned in the email.
_____________________________________
Headphones off as he walked through the hallways, footsteps silent against the floor, he could hear faint voices coming from a classroom ahead, even against the sounds coming from outside. Opening the door slowly, he peered his head in and, noticing the flag with FJA emblazoned on the fabric, decided he was in the right location. Closing the door after he stepped in, Kana didn’t announce his arrival but simply waited for the others to finish what they were doing, introductions given what he had heard from outside.

After a small respite due to nervous hesitation, the beautiful yet delicate Kenko timidly entered the classroom after her brave entourage went first.

In actuality, Kenko let everyone else enter before her as she had yet another coughing fit. Bending over and stumbling in a different direction, she waved them onwards as she nearly coughed up her lung. When it subsided and Kenko finished clearing her throat and softly speaking to herself to make sure her voice was still intact, she entered the classroom and just in time to hear the professor request sunlight. Kenko looked at the windows and watched the others perform the task quickly, but there was one particular window that was already opened before they entered the classroom.

Perhaps it was the work of a ghost?

“If you're going to kill us, I'd prefer falling off the rooftop~” she chimed nonchalantly to her imaginary phantom, calmly glancing around to see if -on the miniscule chance that there was a poltergeist of some type- there was a response. The floor opened up in response, and Kenko flinched back with a excited grin plastered on her face. Of course, her expression soon fell into as she realized the professor had did that and her disappointment set in. A ghostly classmate would've been entertaining, or at least interesting. The professor asked for introductions and offered a reward to the first person. Kenko tilted her head and thought about why he wanted his students to also include their thoughts about love, but Kenko's phantom revealed itself from a locker and took the prize of first place for itself.

Who would've thought that a phantom would be so obsessed about people's behinds.

As Kenko tried holding in her laughter at such an... unorthodox introduction, her roommate Ami -who for some reason wanted to be Aneki- was second to introduce herself. Kenko challenged herself by trying to remember Ami's full name before she announced it. Ami Yukimara, right? Kenko was wrong by one character: it was Ami Yukimura. Kenko sighed at her mistake and decided that she'll get it 100% correct it the next time. Kenko had to grin at Ami's perspective of love. Love is Justice, was it? Only two classmates introduced themselves and she was already grinning so much. Kenko was excited to hear the next.

The next one was... Shadouu Iruda. What an unexpected name; Kenko didn't really know what to think about it. He stumbled a bit when naming his major - perhaps he changed it. He was already going on about pupils, though. His perspective of love was the common 'soulmate' perspective, but the way he worded it sounded more like two warriors ready for battle. Coupled with his goal for his P.E. Major... Kenko wondered if he wanted to be a samurai.

While waiting for more to speak would be interesting, Kenko didn't really want to be the last one and there was only two more left: the foreign student and the girl who looked a little like a clean zombie.

“Yahooo~,” she sang loudly, waving her hand to get everyone's attention. “My name is Kenko Ikioi; Call me Kenko. I've been alive for nineteen years. I haven't decided on a major yet. As for what love is, it's the feeling of when a person accepts you for who you are, faults and all!” Kenko announced proudly, puffing out her chest and ruining the moment with a quick cough. Clearing her throat, she continued “When you find a person you want to be with, no matter what their flaws are...” And no matter how ill she is, Kenko added in her mind, “That is what I call love.”

Taking a final look around at her new classmates, she raised both of her hands in a double thumbs up and mused in naturally fluent English, “I'ᴍ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ~!”

Oh, another Akimoto had taken the course before? It seems like the ‘elites’ of the world were prone to thinking alike then. Interesting bit of information, if nothing else, though Ren had to hide a frown when, once again, the Akimoto family had reached this course before he had. Really, he should stop trying to charter new lands. It was an exercise in futility when some of the Akimoto family were capable of taking, and excelling in, eight different courses per semester. Utterly monstrous, those of the main family.

Taking a glance at a few other faces, some more familiar than others, the raven-haired boy tried to recall their names, but promptly gave up. Must have simply seen their faces around campus. If he had met a character quite as unique as that chuunibyou kid who tunnel-visioned on the skirt steak, there was definitely no way that he’d forget his name. After all, it’d probably come with an equally memorable introduction, filled with darkness and flair. A few cute girls also came over, apparently his classmates for this particular semester. Not bad indeed. Each had their own unique charm; a foreigner with an hourglass figure, a heavily-dressed tomboy that smelled of sweat, and a cold ice queen who looked like she wanted to throttle the teacher.

“Fun stuff,” he murmured, almost inaudibly, before the exasperated teacher stood up and conducted a man hunt for the remaining students.

To some disappointment, the remaining students weren’t also girls on the threshold of womanhood. Well, he wasn’t that much of a player regardless. Sighing and taking a seat that had popped right out of the ground (rather impractical waste of money and resources, in his opinion), Ren allowed the others to introduce themselves first. The icebreaker touched up on a rather sensitive topic, after all, and it would be good to gauge the ‘atmosphere’ of the room before he took his own turn. The incentive for extra marks was tempting, but it didn’t really matter, in the long run.

The first one was a booty-lover. Ren was more of a cutesy-face guy, but hey, he was open-minded. Scat and fart fetishes were totally within the realm of not fucking psychopathic.

The second was a hot-blooded shounen protagonist wearing the skin of a bombshell blonde that looked like she was better suited to be an NPC in a video game. Love was justice, huh? Sounded like the rallying warcry of all the 2chan white knights.

The third was that chuunibyou. With the surname of Shadow. Man, if he seriously became a PE teacher, in this generation of callous technology, he’d probably be the most annoying person ever. Just as annoying as that musclehead from that shit manga, Naruto.

The fourth surprised him with just how positive she was. He had already marked her down as a tomboy, with her short hair and sweat-stench, but wow. The pure, youthful positivity that radiated from her was simply blinding. He wasn’t even sure whether or not Miyu had been this hyper and happy in the past. What an utterly blinding person.

Standing up after she seated herself, Ren waved a much smaller one than what Kenko did, as he smiled and said, “I’m Akimoto Ren, and it’s nice to see faces that I don’t recognize. I should be turning twenty within the month, but for now, the only parties I can go to legally are the dry ones. Also, I’m in General Arts for the moment, and hopefully I can go into something more stimulating in the future.”

He dipped his head into a shallow bow. “Let’s get along, shall we?”

“And as for love…well, in my personal opinion…love is not booty, not justice, not connection, not acceptance, not taking, not self-sacrifice, not sex, not bittersweet, not marred with betrayal, not anything but itself. Love is love, and as someone who hasn’t even lived a third of a human lifespan yet, I doubt I can liken love to anything else in an accurate fashion. But hey, I haven’t even maintained any sort of significant relationship yet, so take that with a splash of salt.”

He tilted his head then, as he sat down, and apologized, “That was three sentences, wasn’t it? Ehehehe…conciseness wasn’t ever my strong point.”

Not that anything was his strong point.

Indigo couldn't help but chuckle when he heard Shourei's introduction. He listened to everybody else's introductions, taking in as much about them as he could. Learning more about his classmates would probably give him a better idea of what h'd gotten himself into. As far as he could tell, they were all pretty cool people. He had his suspicions, though, but set them aside and ignored them.

After a little while, he grew a bit bored and missed a couple introductions, in which he scolded himself for soon after he realized it. He thought back to a time when he was new to the country, clueless about where to go, what to say, how to do anything, really. Not paying attention could make him miss critical details, instructions, chances to do things. Unfortunately, he learned that the hard way not once, but a few times. Indigo snapped out of his flashback, now realizing that it was a good time to make himself known.

He knew he would be looked at like a stranger, obviously not originally being from Japan, but he hoped he could change that. Maybe, just maybe, he could make himself a good reputation. "Hello, my name is Indigo Q'loer. 18 years of age. I'm going for a major in creative writing." he paused a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. "And before anyone asks, si (yes), I am not from here. I come from Italia (Italy). It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you.
.

He ran his fingers through his spiky brown hair. "As far as love goes," he said, " I think that it is not what's on the outside, it's what is on the inside, It would be a shame for somebody to only love somebody for what they look like, not how they treat you and others, would it not?" Indigo looked around, hoping that they took it as a valid point.

"Grazie (Thank You)." he said, and took his seat once again. He realized that he had been using Italian often during his introduction. He knew some of it would not be understood and made it a personal goal to stop his habit, at least while in front of people. He shoved his hand into his pocket and retrieved a small piece of gum, tossing it into his mouth.

As the class departed one by one, Kazuki yanked the pole out of the ground before mumbling something inappropriate under her breath.

The nerve of the old man.

While she wasn’t so much annoyed at being called a sarcastic ghost, she simply didn’t like having task forced upon her. Had it not been out of courtesy for her classmates, the pale deviant would have carried the rod so far up the man’s rear end it would end up piercing that silver tongue of his. The thought entertained her for a mere second before her eyes widened in disgust.

What cruel, heartless soul would do such a thing to a poor old man?

A playful smile danced across her face as she trailed after the group.

Senseless violence was a thing of the past.
--

When they had arrived at the classroom, Kazuki had been the second to last to enter the room. Standing by the doorway it seemed as if she was examining the beautiful exotic classroom around her, when in truth she was simply listening intently to the fit of coughing outside.

She didn’t derive any sickly pleasure from listening to the girl hack up a lung, but it did soothe her curiosity towards the individual quite well. Of course, as a given, all observations and opinions were kept strictly to herself and perhaps shared with whatever stray animal wandered near her house at night.

As to those prying individuals, she had a way of making people stay away.

Remembering the bastard’s request, she walked silently to the closet before opening its doors. To her surprise, inside the storage space rested a healthy teen male. She raised a brow in fascination before she tossed the flag mindlessly inside and shut the door. She was glad it had been her to find the boy in there, as any other individual would have succumbed to the temptation of various tasteless puns and jokes.

It also saved her from a possible heart attack when he burst out of the closet and introduced himself as Shourei Yang, an anal lover. She held her breath as her palm greeted her forehead in obvious frustration. This idiot was making it too easy. How did he survive all this time?

Not to mention he had cut off the bottle blonde with her bodacious swimsuit bod.

Apparently her name wasn’t Miss Wonderbra, but instead Ami Yukimura. Extremely mannered compared to the imbecile that went before her, but as if the bleach had soaked into her brain, her naïve and almost non-sensible definition of love had marked Shourei as somewhat intelligent.

She was barely able to contain her sigh of despair as she grouped herself with the anal-freak.

There had been such hope…

The runt that went next was surprisingly cute. His careless slip of tongue toyed with her curiosity the same way a stray dog with a limp did. She wouldn’t dig too much, after all, she herself knew some things are better left in the closet of the past. Like Shourei.

The runt named Shadouu Iruda, also gave a generic runt definition of love. The little runt had been promoted to slightly cordial runt.

She was almost tempted to throw him some scraps of food. She had a soft spot for the less fortunate.

Then there was there late and mysterious silent type, who seemed polite and formal enough to bask in shame for his tardiness. Sparing him the burden of another set of prying eyes, Kazuki stared at the sickly girl who introduced herself as Kenko Ikioi.

Her ideology for love was practical. So practical in fact, it seemed to offset her bubbly tone, but that was likely to just have been the cough. All in all, a blooming young flora.

Then came Ren Akimoto.

She shifted in her seat. To be honest, she housed no ill-will towards him, save for his disgusting scent. Wealth had a way of corroding people in ways invisible to them. Under the wealthy, everything was perverted. The mind, the soul, the body, but most of all the will.

All stripped away slowly dollar by dollar, cent by cent.

To be fair, it was a naïve and dangerous interpretation of wealth, especially in modern society, but it was something she adopted with a patient fervor. Everyone had something they hated in life, and well, she hated money.

It was for this reason she hated the Akimoto in general. While she had no reason to hate Ren as a person, she knew it would only be a matter of time.

Not to mention the boy before her seemed surprisingly haughty, even in his modesty.

Then there was the foreigner, Indigo Q’loer.

Like Ami, he was vested towards Creative Writing. He also shared a relatively naïve notion of love, although it was relatively more cohesive in derivation than the bottle blonde’s. All in all it was a fair interpretation as long as he accepted there was nothing such a true love.

Hell, even Ami’s definition could be justified if she knew deep down there was nothing known as true love.

The room was quiet for a few minutes as the girl stared mindlessly out the window, trying to figure out what she thought love was.

It was always so easy to judge others…

Plastering on a small smile, she silently stood from her seat.

“Oshita Kazuki, 20 years old, pursuing a major in Sports Administration and a minor in Philosophy,” folding her legs under the desk, she leaned forward before examining the desk.

“Love is something to be created, not found. It is similar to perfection, something that everyone pursues but rarely able to obtain,”

As she looked up, her eyes revealed that she was somewhat uncomfortable with speaking to a group.

Her slightly upturned eyes, softened her somewhat usually harsh presence.

“...and thus deception is born.”

The deception of self and the deception of others.

In the end, it is simply throwing in the towel and accepting to work with what you have.

“At least, that’s what I think.”

It didn’t take particularly long for Kana to get the gists of the introductions down, saving himself the trouble of asking for clarification once the others had finished their turn. Though he had missed a few that had gone before he’d arrived, recalling only dulled voices as he approached, he paid the remainder of his classmates some of his attention.

It was always a mixed bag of feelings whenever he encountered someone as overly energetic as Kenko. While it wasn’t all too often and he rarely had anything against the people themselves, still… Taking a deep breath he let his mind move to other matters and refocused on the present rather than some bad memories.

Akimoto. It wasn’t an unfamiliar name for most of the populace Kana assumed, seeing as a member of the prestigious clan could be found in almost every “meaningful” walk of life. Granted, he didn’t really let that public image affect his perception of the other student. A bit verbose and possibly annoying given how he seemed to have made it a point to shoot down, what Kana assumed to be, the previous’ students definition while avoiding giving one of his own.

Raising an eyebrow at Indigo’s name, he figured the name was a bit unusual given the male’s appearance. It didn’t really look all too out of place here and Kana certainly wouldn’t have placed the student as Italian or European. Guessing that the fragments of Italian dropped were due to habit, Kana didn’t really bother focusing on them all too much. He hadn’t replaced any important words and his Japanese was understandable even if accented.

He didn’t know who had gone prior to his arrival, but given some looked towards pale, snow-haired girl, Kana figured she had yet to introduce himself. It took a few moments for her to actually say anything, not that he found any of it particularly profound or interesting; much like the others that had gone before. When she finished and he looked at the other students, he figure everyone that had been present had given their little spiel so it was now his turn.

Clearing his throat to draw some attention rather than just starting out of the blue, Kana stopped leaning on the wall before he spoke. “Kurane Kana. 21 and majoring in Criminology and Psychology. Love is a just another relation between individuals that connects them. Some cases its the tightest, other times it hangs by a thread. Sorry for being late professor.” Giving a small bow to the older man after his rather brief introduction, he didn’t wait for Gestalt to reply before he found himself a seat at the end of the second row afterwards.