???

Time. Such a distant concept. Where had it ... when had it ever mattered? It is a question, unbidden, bubbling from the depths of that murky sea of rust that tightly clings to him. The voices, so gentle and sick and beautiful like steel fork meeting blackboard, chitter intensely in response, the sharp vibrations tickling the inside of the ear canals. It hurts. The things twist and wriggle inside of him, each motion bringing with it the sharp sting of burning splinters. The sounds are their ambrosia. In the corner of his eyes, even in the dim, blood-red light refracting through the wrapping, their legs are happy. Happily dancing, each tap of milliard limbs against his whites an unscratchable itch. Not just there. Everywhere. Every time they move, he itches. As if cut with cold iron knives.

They nibble. He can hear them chewing at the sinews. Bulging masses of gangrenous flesh and clotting blood, crawling underneath the patchwork skin. Burrowed too deep. Too deep to scratch out. He can't do it. The ends of his fingers are long crushed and shrivelled, nails cracked open and keratin shards digging into vulnerable meat. Trillion itchy nibbles, working further and further into his body. His body? Heehee. The voices shriek soothingly that it is. They twist and turn harder and the pricks intensify.

It can't be it. It can't be his body. There can't be some cystic growth creeping closer to his mouth, leaking viscous neon green. The things like it. The clammy, rotting skin near it buzzes with delight. They, rooted inside, twist and wriggle. Do they eat it? The tang, a mild sweet odour, agree. The voices never answer that question properly. Their seraphic chitter stabs into his eardrums. Something pops and there is pain. It's a beautiful sound.

The smell is addicting. His tongue can't reach it.

He doesn't have a tongue?

The insides of his mouth feel empty. Weightless. A thing digs into it. Its crusty surface is rough and harsh against the skin, drawing blood and tearing meat. Sandpaper. That is what it reminds him of. What is sandpaper? His thoughts are distracted as humid air rushes in. A left eyes droops down. Ah. A hole.

The things want to feed him.

The ooze drips. Fluid leaks down the side of his drying face.

Ah, it is his body after all.

They wouldn't like it to go to waste.

He slurps and slurps and slurps.

The voices are so loud.

Clammy lips snap together.

Ah~

The film of rust fragments. Unsettlement builds inside him.. The things shift and his naked back? His? Meets jagged stone. A million cold skewers pierce inside. It's hot and tight and the chattering voices grow distinct. The fluid pools inside. He drinks happily. He's happy, and they laugh with him. Flesh peels away in a flood of hurt. Because they know what they're to do.

He knows.

And he cries a million buzzing, knowing, happy cries.

---

7am Saturday, April 23rd, 2016

"... investigations regarding the cause of the accident that occurred yesterday afternoon are still ongoing. Police have refused to comment on the veracity of the rumours suggesting a supernatural origin ..."

A tired yawn left Hanazawa's mouth as she clicked off her television with the remote. The third-year student of Uchima Senior High rolled onto her back, staring up at the bright pink ceiling of her bedroom. Everybody from the old man at the clockwork place to her mum was talking about that weird truck crash that happened yesterday. It'd hit a wall while turning and released a horde of evil robots or something onto the streets, except by the time emergency services arrived, there was no sign of any invading AI army. She'd heard rumours about it being some demonic infection, malfunctioning shady weapons, aliens or a shady secret society, but it was all super unbelievable to her. Shikatsu had always been a weird city anyway, but just because there were always unexplainable things going on didn't mean it was like, actually something outta a story. And not even a good story!

She was a writer, after all. If she'd written something like that they'd totally have kicked her out of the club.

But bad propositions for the origins of whatever that stuff was aside, she really wasn't too keen about it being the biggest thing on the news. She thought it was super exciting too, but when everybody was talking about it, other interesting tidbits she could look into were getting drowned out. Aargh, and she just wanted to get over this writer's block, but when the only thing in the news that could inspire her didn't even fit the setting, it was really annoying!

Her phone rang.

Hanazawa turned herself over again, stomach now flat against her mattress. Her pale yellow smartphone was sitting next to the pillow, vibrating as a cheery anime opening played. Most of her friends wouldn't be calling at such an early time on the weekend, so who was it ...?

A glance at the caller ID answered all her questions.

"Okacchin~!" she exclaimed immediately, the phone having rapidly made it to her ear. "What's my fave uk-, uh, doormat need on a Saturday morning?"

Even though she'd managed to correct herself, a sigh could still be heard from the other side of the call. Hanazawa made sure to memorise how he made the sound. It was definitely something she could use for one of her characters at some point.

"We will be practicing one of the scenes you wrote today," was the reply from the Drama Club's introverted vice president. "I was wondering if you would be willing to spare some of your time and come watch ... unless you have other business to attend to?"

"Don't be foolish, of course I can!" Maybe seeing one of her scripts being acted out by the club could give her that push to get over the writer's block. And she was never somebody who would pass on hanging out with Okacchin, especially if Oogami was around too. They were just so cute together! "When is it going to be?"

"Practice is at nine, so come earlier if possible."

She smiled, even though she knew full well her friend couldn't see it. "I'll be there, so don't you worry!"

The call ended with a beep. It was definitely going to be a fun day.

When Hina woke up that morning to the smell of smoke, she immediately knew that it was Saturday.

She got dressed and stepped into the kitchen just in time to see her sighing father slide two pieces of nondescript black objects off a plate and into the trash. Had they been eggs? Pieces of toast? Bacon, perhaps? One would think that you'd be able to discern something from its general shape, but somehow her father's attempts at making breakfast all turned out looking the same. Lips twitching into a smile, Hina moved forward and leaned her elbows against the countertop, propping her chin in her hands. "Breakfast giving you trouble again?"

When she received a flat look in response, her smile only grew. "It's okay, dad, it's not like I'm much better." Not much better, but still arguably better, if only by a minuscule amount. She, at least, boasted a 40% no-burn rate, which was really quite respectable when it came to the Shiratori household. "Don't worry about it; I swung by the bakery after work last night and picked up some things, so you can help yourself to those for breakfast instead." She left the room in the midst of speaking, the volume of her voice increasing to compensate for the growing distance between them. "I'll try to pick up some ingredients for tomorrow morning on my way back--we can try to make that french toast we've been talking about for weeks!"

"Wait, on your way back from where?" Her father's voice, muffled by the walls, called back. "I didn't know you had plans today."

Hina returned a moment later to poke her head back into the kitchen, now donning a white jacket and a yellow bag that was slung over her shoulder. "I picked up a extra shift at one of my jobs this morning. I have the afternoon off though, and I'll be back to make and eat dinner with you before I have to head to the convenience store this evening."

As she predicted, her father's brows furrowed at her words, deep lines forming in his forehead. However, when he opened his mouth to voice his concerns, Hina was quick to move to his side press a kiss to his cheek. "Don't spend the whole day in front of the tv, okay? I'll be back in just a few hours."

There was a moment of silence, and it was broken by a heavy sigh that Hina knew to mean that she had won for now. Rather than voice the protest that had clearly been on the tip of his tongue, her father simply grabbed his cane and used it to steady himself as he walked her to the door. Hina was momentary distracted with staring at said cane, but her attention snapped back to her father's face when he spoke. "Don't stay out too late. Be careful, y'hear?" His tone was gruff, but the worry behind his words was evident.

Hina laughed, reaching out to give his free hand a gentle squeeze. "I hear you, I hear you. Don't worry, and I'll see you later, dad!" And with a flutter of her fingers, Hina was out the door.

Hitomi quietly hummed to herself matching the overall tempo of the song playing through the speakers above her in the Sacred Grounds Café. She watched as the beans for the coffee she was making for her trip out of the store burned over the small jettison of flame. The smaller girl played with her hair some, curling it around her index finger while she glanced at the clock in the corner for the fifth time in the last minute. It was nearly time for her to leave.

Just one… More… Minute.

The bells on the door jingled as Hitomi heard someone enter the café. She looked like a serious woman and quickly approached Hitomi as she flattened out her apron with a smile.

“Hello, welcome to the Sacred Grounds, what can I get you today?” She asked pleasantly jotting down the buyers name on her cup and beginning to prepare the Vanilla Frappuccino. But as if sent by the gods above themselves, her manager came to let her off of her shift.

“Hitomi, it should be time for you to head out, I’ll catch this last order.” The older man grumbled as he grabbed the cup off the counter and gestured Hitomi into the back. She nodded in agreement, snatching her now finished coffee and danced into the locker room quickly changing into her street clothes in the form of a big comfy sweater and a nice pair of dark blue jeans. Quickly dashing out of the café with a wave sent behind her to her manager she pranced down the busy streets on her way to heaven itself.

It seemed like it was going to rain soon, with the weather they were having. It was fairly windy somewhat cold and overcast as far as the eyes could see. But it didn’t bother Hitomi much. It was good that spring was finally starting. It just seemed to be taking its time, that's all. Finally coming upon the golden arches of heaven itself the warm yellow light washed over Hitomi’s face. She gave herself a second to bask in it. It was beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, a girl across the street seemingly waved at Hitomi. She looked like a true amazon, she must’ve been nearly six feet tall, thin wearing a white dress. She seemed happy. But as a truck raced down the busy street obscuring her view of the woman, Hitomi decided to move on. She entered the McDonalds gleefully peeking down each row of available seating looking for a particular person. One she was forged through combat with.

“Commander-Sama?” She called quietly looking for the notable red hair and mountain of fries many could recognize her for.

Kimiko awoke with a start, an unpleasant dream shaking her from slumber and delivering her to the twilit bedroom she inhabited. The time on her clock showed that she had awakened meer minutes before her alarm would have sounded, but there was little reason to wait. She switched on her bedside light and picked up the pack of Tarot cards that awaited her. Shuffle, cut, and shuffle again. A silent prayer for guidance, and the card was drawn. “Seven of Wands,” she murmured, unimpressed with this offering. “Aggression, Defiance, and Conviction... not the card I wanted today.”

Kimiko yawned and slipped out of bed, her hand silencing the alarm within a second of its first chirp. She withdrew her ceremonial haori and hakama from her closet and donned the traditional dress before turning her light off and exiting the room. “Father, it's time,” she called as she crossed the living room with another yawn.

A small cup lay on the table, some liquid untouched at the bottom. Kimiko looked down at the cup and shook her head disapprovingly. It had been awhile since her father had last partaken of sake. Almost an entire year, to be precise, coinciding with the date of her mother's death. Last year's mourning had resulted in some fairly unpleasant moments. She doubted her father would be joining her this morning.

The miko opened the front door to their humble home and traversed the short distance to the shrine, her sandals kicking at the morning dew on the lawn. Once at the shrine, Kimiko performed her daily routine: emptying the offering box, putting out blank slips of paper, and awaiting the dawn. Once the sun began to approach the horizon, Kimiko bowed towards its rising and began the ritual: a combination of tai chi and dance crafted to honor the sun during its awakening. Normally the ritual was a beautiful duet of father and daughter, but today, Kimiko performed her solitary part with precision.

A quick change into her school clothes, and Kimiko began her short journey to school. Of course, she stopped in at her one allowed vice: the Sacred Grounds. Perhaps it was due to the coffee shop’s proximity to the shrine or how its naming convinced some patrons to also toss a few yen into the offering box, or perhaps it was the excruciatingly painful pun in its name, but Kimiko's father never disallowed a stop for coffee. She entered and ordered her coffee as usual (black) with as few wasted words to her kouhai behind the counter and took a seat in the corner of the dining area, looking out the window. This too was a portion of her daily rituals, a cleansing of the mind as she breathed in the aromas and listened to the bustling city awake.

The news of the day seemed to revolve around an unfortunate car accident, but instead of the typical embellishments, most who talked about this event spoke of the impossible. Gossip rarely was entirely factual, and although Kimiko trusted the veracity of the conversation about as much as she trusted her father with sake, the contents were consistent enough to pique her interest. Some sort of supernatural event was at the very least widely believed to have occurred. Maybe the shrine would see more business than usual today.

Once the impatient barista was graciously relieved by her manager, Kimiko took the opportunity to head out herself, not bothering to keep up with her kouhai’s hurried pace. The blonde’s destination was the school, and she intended, as was customary for her, to be one of the first individuals present. Being allowed to participate in chorus was a long fight with her father that she had only narrowly won, but each time the group sang together was the highlight of Kimiko’s day. She was certain that today would be just like any other.

Ryoma stood in the archery Range alone with only his wooden bow to keep him company, which said bow fit perfectly in his rough yet gentle hands. He scanned the archery target with a level intensity that would scare off any wandering gangster or flesh eating demon. The intense young man lift up his wooden bow and placed the bamboo arrow onto the bow with a gentle hand. Then the young man draw the bow string back and aimed with incredibly focus.

Then he released the string, the arrow fired forward with a whooshing sound as it flew though the air and landed on its target perfectly. The arrow found itself on the little red circle in the center of the large target 30 meters away, it was an easy shot, Ryoma was used to shooting at a farther distance. He was easily one of the club's best archers, he didn't need to be modest. He might be getting a scholarship due to his skills alone after all, so being humble would only irritate others as they would see it as humble bragging. And he didn't need that tagged onto his already shallow social pool.

Ryoma let out a sigh and lowered his bow down to his side. He has been practicing for a few hours now, he has been been practicing alone as he was the first of the club to arrive; he arrived so early in fact that the school was just opening up when he arrived. Ryoma walked to the rest area of the archery field and opened the sealed water bottle and drank a fair amount of it before closing it again. The other Club members would arrive within an hour or two. Ryoma was often the first and last to leave practice, so it was also his duty to clean up the archery, which he didn't mind at all, the less time he's at home the better.

Today was a normal day, even with all the strange stuff that has occurred yesterday, he doesn't know the context or if it was even true, but he decided to ignore it since it didn't affect him or anybody he knew so for all he cared it was just a rumor, and he didn't care to look into rumors. But from what little he heard it sounded like it was something out of a horror story. At least the rest of the school will focus on another scary thing besides him, it'd be nice not to have people whisper about him when he walks down the hall on Monday.

Ryoma has a feeling that it's going to be a long day.

Kagami swung her bokken once more as she dug her toes into the tatami flooring of the dojo she was in. With that she moved forward in a precise movement. Currently she was alone in the moderately sized club room practicing against a invisible opponent that only she could see. "Tsuki" she said aloud as she thrust against the throat of her invisible enemy before stepping back and taking the standard stance holding her bokken in front of her both of her hands griped firmly on it's handle.

"To mold the mind and body" Kagami once more muttered to herself as she started to do reps with the bokken in hand doing vertical swings of it repeatedly. "To cultivate a vigorous spirit," She continued with her swinging starting to deviate from the standard kendo stance taking a Iaido stance her right hand gripped on the bokken tightly as he left hand hovered over the handle. Before she lashed out striking with speed before returning it to it's normal spot. "To hold in esteem human courtesy and honor." She continued losing her self into a dance that only she could really see. Her practice was intense to the outside viewer having clear weights on her wrists seen from the slips of the sleeves of her kendogi.

With a sigh Kagami stopped her practice as she took a step to the side as she watched the others continue their practice spars. Due to her skill level and all that the coach for the kendo club often had her practicing by herself which than lead to her slipping into Iaido stances and movements that was part of her honored grandfather's style grandfather Kurokage was a strict old man but he meant well. With a nod from the coach Kagami sat on the bleachers next to the door her body slouched and legs slightly spread as she rested her hands on the bokken as it was pointed down on the ground.

@Bornlucky
Jin walked the outer hallways of the school, inwardly cursing their fate and outwardly wearing a sneer that could scare full grown men. Her aunt and uncle, as kind and good as they were, had all but kicked them out of the house this morning.

‘You need a new hobby.’ Uncle Haru said. ‘Join a new club.’

‘A young person shouldn’t spend all their time at home!’ Aunt Himiko said.

Honestly! Fry one motherboard and the family just wanted to throw a fit. Then again, Jin didn’t usually make mistakes that ended in smoke. The house still smelled like old cabbage and rubber. Maybe Aunty was right. Maybe Jin did need to get out a bit.
Huffing a sigh and fiddling with the worn top button of their gauken, Jin realized that they’d automatically walked to the archery range. There was only one person there, and Jin knew him immediately. Ryoma Mikami. It wasn’t hard to miss someone head and shoulders above the rest of the students, quite literally. Besides that, he had nearly as many rumors as Jin themselves, though it was less certain if any were true. He didn’t seem so bad. Jin had seen worse, anyway.

“Mikami-sempai.” Jin frowned over the quivers of practice arrows before choosing one. “Want company?” Armguard, gloves, shoulder guard; everything went on automatically. Tipping their head and staring at the target, Jin nocked the arrow and loosed the shot in one smooth motion. The arrow looked like it had hit the target dead center, but Jin frowned.

“Tch. 4 millimeters… I’m rusty.”

"Go by the name of the King Adrock, rock, super educated, I'm smarter than Spock, Spock..."

Kimiko was in the process of doing the morning shift bro's job for him - again. She had taken her customary breakfast order of three bacon, egg and cheese McGriddles, a large cup for Coke, and all the necessary ingredients for improvised fry production - or, as the menu so callously advertised them, 'hash browns.' Kimiko found no purpose in hashing them, and didn't care much for their color. What mattered is that they were ambiguously spudlike, and could be shredded up into thin strips that vaguely resembled her favorite food. So, while her McGriddles were still being prepared, Kimiko had taken the false tubers and begun her process, tearing the hash browns into five or six jagged strips, and then breaking each strip in half, until she could properly simulate an order of fries.

It was soothing work. Pretty boring, but the end result would be worth it.

Plus she didn't have any other plans for the day.

Should she get a job at McDonald's?

A little extra money never hurt...

But if Kimiko got a job, and was suddenly beholden to a schedule, how would she be--

"Commander-sama?"

"Every time you hear me you will agree, ain't nobody like the K.I.D., D..." she mumbled nonchalantly, too absorbed to look up at the approaching ethereal goofball. "Heya, Hitomi-chan. Take a seat and tell me when they call for my McGriddles. Do you want some fries?"

She waved a greasy piece of hash brown at the girl in clinical, characteristically detached greeting.

This was probably one of Tsubaki's least favorite mandatory activities. If it had been anyone else, she would have ignored them, but she still owed her father everything, so she did as she was told. Even if that involved sitting in a nearly empty school room on a Saturday, wearing the school's constricting uniform and participating in the school's only technical club.

At least the other students in the AV club didn't try and start conversations with her anymore. They just let her sit in silence and work on the equipment in the back of the room. If she had been forced to join am active club or, shudder to think, a team sport, she didn't know how she would have survived the year. Pushing unpleasant thoughts aside, she went back to coddling with the broken projector in her lap, losing herself in the work. There was work to be done, things to be repaired. It was a comforting thought.

Hitomi happily jumped at the opportunity to consume some fries and dove in for the kill with a small ‘caw’ escaping her lips as she did. Commander-Sama only chose the best seating arrangements during her time at McDonalds. As such they were seated in the comfy leather seats by the fireplace. Perfect lighting for a hot date with some potatoes and a redhead. It was almost symbolic of her the heat of the fries really.

Truly, it was a beautiful scene before the young girl.

She sat down in the chair cross-legged as the sweater casually slumped off of one of her shoulders as it was known to do given its make. She smiled across the table at her commander and realized one thing was missing from the picture.

“You must be wondering where my guitar is! I do usually carry it around in case it finds its uses, like you saw with those…” Hitomi trailed off and leant in across the table so she was only inches away from her friend. “Pizza bots". She said quietly as she retreated back over to her side of the table, nabbing a golden delicious potato slice on the way back.

Happily munching on the salty treat her ears picked up the very thing she was supposed to be looking out for. “Two McGriddles… I have two McGriddles.” A young boy said wearing the typical McDonalds outfit that Hitomi had come to expect from those on the other side of the counter. She quickly hopped up motioning to her commander that she would only need a second to retrieve them.

“McGriddles… For H̵̡̒͛̾̇̂̈́͑̒ͮͥͤ̋͏̭̝͔̖̘ȩ̵̧͉̻̯͉̖̖̥͖̩͙̘̯̩̖̫̗̫ͣ̋̔ͣ̀͡ͅl̶̻͔̹͚̟̼̮͎̺̩̍ͫ̔͋̌ͯͥ͊̑͂̈́ͭ̾́̕͘̕è̸̶̸̡̖͇̼͚̫͙̙̻̪ͯͪ͊̍̉̇ͨͥ͆͋̃̒͗̏͒͋̏̚ͅͅn̸̴̢͇͕̠̫͎̲̩̑̏̂ͦ̅̋͗ͣ̅ͫ̒ͦ̌̒̋̄ā̓͂ͩ̉̿͑͌̉̔̽̀̓̚͏̷͕̙͚̳͉͙̥͖̳͟ͅ.”

Hitomi knelt down for a moment clutching her temples that seemed to soar in agony for what felt like an eternity.

“McGriddles for Kimiko?” He called once more.

Hitomi stood back up and closed her eyes, walking towards the boy and grabbing the tray from him with some caution.

“Ma’am your nose is bleeding a little.” He said pointing at her face as he handed over the tray. She simply waved it off wiping the small trail of blood away from her nostril and smiling.

“Thanks S’much!” She said with her typical chipper attitude and danced back to Commander. Placing the McGriddles in front of her and sitting back down once more cross-legged. “So, anything interesting happen with you after you know what.”

In his absent minded musing Ryoma was brought back to reality by the sounds of a voice belonging to the person Ryoma didn't expect to hear in this location. Ryoma turned his focus to the voice. It was who he thought it was, Jin. The former captain of the archery club. The one person who's aim with a bow surpasses his own, if only by a margin. Jin is also a person surrounded by ill informed rumors; Ryoma wasn't so sure if any of them were true or not, since Ryoma doesn't know much about them besides them moving from the states and they had one hell of a good aim.

Ryoma shifted his stance somewhat, making him look more rigid and tense then the moment before, he didn't know what to say, he wasn't expecting anybody for awhile, he hasn't mentally prepared himself for this encounter. This could go horrible if he doesn't choose his words carefully with this interaction. Even if the rumors surrounding Jin are wrong they still carry an air of ... independence.

But yet they still called him sempai, Ryoma should call him Kouhai, he knew that, but he didn't feel like calling him that, but their skills was better then his and Jin was the captain of the archery club before, so it would be strange to call them that in this setting. They might consider that condescending. And he doesn't need any enemies.

"Greetings, Jin-San." Ryoma responded formally, this was his most composed manner of speaking, if this was a more casual exchange that would cause trouble. "Sure." Ryoma said, he felt like he should say more, but he might stumble over his words like a fat baby deer. Ryoma watched Jin get prepared and then quickly aim and shoot, nearly getting a bull eye's, most people, even other club members would consider that a perfect shot. But to Ryoma and by the sound of the former captain's muttering proved that it could've been better. It was off by 4mm. Ryoma previous shot was off only by 0.9mm. But the two in the archery field knew Jin could do better, not like Ryoma would ever say that out loud. But they're out of practice, and admittedly it was still better aim then the rest of the club, and if they're meaning to return to the club they could easily surpass him soon enough with practice.

"Good shot, Jin-San." Ryoma responded genuinely. "Especially for being r-rusty." Ryoma praised Jin slightly as he tried to make sure of himself not to sound coddling or superior to them. "I-I almost beat your record from last year." Ryoma admitted, he wasn't sure why he admitted that but he felt like he needed to say it. "I plan to beat it before the end of the year... I-I hope you don't mind." Ryoma politely asked the ex-captain. While they quit the role, Ryoma was there when they were captain, impressive for a first year so Ryoma respects the underclassmen like a Sempai himself. But that's all too embarrassing to admit he barely knew Jin as a person.

Hopefully, he won't say anything awkward or sappy when Jin's here. He would literally die if he did.

@Savo@JBRam2002

NPC: Hayate Sasaki - Uchima Senior High School Gates, Saturday Morning

When Alexander and Kimiko arrived at their high school, they would catch sight of a messy-haired young man squatting down next to the rusting gates school gates, eyes intently watching a pair of grey pigeons peck at breadcrumbs. He had Uchima Senior High's black gakuran jacket tied around his waist, suggesting that he was a fellow student of theirs. The top two buttons of his white, short-sleeved shirt were unbuttoned, revealing much of his neck to the sunlight. His sharp and well-defined face, one that had a distinctly masculine quality, possessed an expression of immense concentration, as if the avians before him were the most important thing in the universe. And if the crumbling piece of half-eaten bread dangling from his hands was any indication, they were at least the most important thing to him for the moment.

The approach of footsteps however, sent the pigeons scurrying further away, their wings flapping as they left the concrete footpath for the top of the school wall. With a sound that could be construed as a mild grumble, the young man glanced up at the incoming pair of students with a flat gaze, rising to his feet even as he did so. He was a relatively tall figure (although not as tall as the Caucasian Alexander), standing at height of a metre eighty-three, and it was evidently clear that underneath his white shirt that he was not lacking in musculature. One hand immediately dropped into his pocket, while the other moved to deliver the piece of bread to his awaiting mouth, where it was immediately eaten up in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"Yo, shrine girl," he said in greeting to Kimiko, his distinct and powerful voice, comparable to the angelic host itself, easily audible across the short distance between them. The young man - surname Sasaki, given name Hayate - was a fellow student of class 3-B as she was, and also a member of the school's Drama Club. "You hangin' with this kid now?"

@Savo@Crimmy

As Kimiko Maita entered the school building, she silently hummed the tunes for one of her songs in her head, working over a particularly challenging refrain. She was used to singing the melody as a soprano, but this song mixed up the parts slightly, sending the melody to the altos for a few bars and allowing the sopranos to lightly sing a harmony over the top. It was a welcome change of pace in an otherwise simplistic role, but the jump from C# to the A above was unexpected and felt odd whenever she tried to sing it.

She was so caught up in her mental practice, that she didn't notice that she was walking in lockstep with a second-year whose frame towered over hers. The silent refrain echoed in her mind over and over as she walked towards the chorus club, only to be interrupted by a classmate. She had almost figured out the musical jump too.

"Sasaki-san," Kimiko replied with a curt nod, attempting to hide as much of her annoyance as possible. It took her a moment to locate the "kid" that Hayate had mentioned. Evidently, this Western spawn of the colossi standing nearby was the person in question. She had seen him around several times previously (he was hard to miss), but she had never found it necessary to either introduce herself or talk with him. From what she had gathered, his name was Alec? Alexus? "Alexi-san?" Kimiko offered, unsure whether she had the name correct yet or not. "I do not believe we have met formally, nor am I in the practice of 'hangin' with him as of yet."

With the single social interaction of her morning over with, she returned to her headspace to try to pick up where she left off, but alas, most of her progress had been sabotaged by the unwelcome interruption. People could be annoying like that sometimes.

@Suku

NPC: Ai Hanazawa - Uchima Senior High Kendo Clubroom, Saturday Morning

"Not practicing today, Isami-chan?"

The light, playful tone originated from the door to the dojo, where a girl was standing, pink-covered notebook and ballpoint pen immediately visible in her hands. Ai Hanazawa, a third-year student of Uchima, glanced away from her intent observation of the male club members sweating as they fought one another to smile warmly in Kagami's direction. It seemed that the older girl was once again checking up on the kendoka for writing research purposes.

She really wanted to get over that slump and triumph over her writer's block, but just watching her club act out the script she'd written wasn't going to be the silver bullet that'd fix everything. That's why she was taking this short break to go check out the other clubs, and the kendo team was super close to where her friends were practicing. Watching the guys was something that would definitely give her inspiration in that regard.

And it'd give her a chance to talk to some of them for help! Like Isami-chan there.

Kazou continued staring up at the ceiling, as he had been for the past hour. Yesterday as soon as he was home from school he passed out, having not even eaten dinner. That proved a bad idea, as he awoke intermittently throughout the night. About, he'd say an hour ago, he just couldn't get back to sleep. Of course, he also felt no motivation to do much other than lie in bed so he simply stayed there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore his failing grades and general unlikability.

Cutting through the emptiness of the house was a beeping, that of his father's alarm considering its distance. After some amount of time he didn't bother to count, his father opened his door.

"Hey, I have to do some over-time today. I've left some yen on the counter for lunch. I'll be home by dinner."

"Okay." Kazou responded, wishing his father would leave.

It looked like he would, but the man paused for a second at the door, and reopened it a bit. "Have you considered joining a club? It'd be something to do on Saturdays."

"Nothing there interests me." Kazou explained, getting a tad bit more exasperated.

"Or maybe a part time job? It'd give you some spending money, could go out on the weekends or at night."

"I'm fine."

There was an unreadable expression on his father's face for a second, before he left. With that, Kazou breathed a sigh of relief, and resumed his "relaxing" for a little while. Fading in and out of sleep for a tiny amount of time, until the slam of his front door fully woke him up for the day. 7 AM, read his clock. Earlier than he would like but he might as well get up for the day.

Making his way to the kitchen, Kazou sifted through his fridge lethargically. Nothing to eat for breakfast, really. There was his leftover dinner from last night which could be his lunch, so he supposed his given money would go towards his first meal of the day. There was no place that delivered breakfast around here. He'd have to take a shower, get dressed, and go out.

"Damn it..."

---

@Write@Plank Sinatra
It took a while but eventually Kazou made it out of the house, dressed in what he had lying around; his school uniform's pants and a dull orange button-up, heavily creased and untucked. His wet hair was beginning to spring back up to its consistently messy state. Looking around the block he was walking down, it seemed that his local McDonalds was the closest option. As much as he hated the place he deigned to enter. It was about as much as he deserved and maybe the sugar rush would kick him up a notch. Probably not but, whatever.

Pushing open the door and making his way inside, Kazou was assaulted by that particular chemical smell of a horrid place. There was a certain something in the back of his mind that told Kazou to leave, but he stood firm. There wasn't much at home to eat and he certainly didn't want to sit down at a cafe. Kazou pushed forward to the counter.

After placing his order awkwardly (some simple hashbrowns, that's all he could stomach here) Kazou stared absently at the people around him. As he did so, he noticed a girl having what seemed like a splitting headache, and a nosebleed. He couldn't help but stare at her as after she recovered, she gleefuly skipped back to her booth. Kazou scoffed to himself. This is why he couldn't relate to people. Always so chipper, or gossipy, or something. He was almost envious of how normal she was. She even had a friend in her booth. He could barely be bothered to get out of bed today...

He shook the thoughts out of his head. Just get your meal and go, Kazou.

@Crimmy
"Here for inspiration again sempai?" Kagami asked the girl who sat down next to her. She seen her a few times during practice talking to the 3rd years in the club or the president from time to time often throwing the words "getting inspiration" Though she was never approached till now. "Not really taking a small break from practice. The weights the coach has started making me wear has been pushing my endurance more and more lately." She spoke honestly slipping the sleeve of her kendogi up a bit so she could see the weights strapped to her wrists there was more however a weighted stomach band and anklets for example as well. Grabbing a bottle of water from her bag nearby she greedily drank some before turning back to Hanazawa senpai. Still thinking of the weights she was wearing she had to honestly think why the coach made her wear it. Sure she was better than most of the students her age in the club but recently he pulled her from fighting her seniors as well. It kind of annoyed her having to practice on her own how was she supposed to know if she was getting better if she had no one to really test her skills against? Letting out a small sigh Kagami let those thoughts leave her head "Lets think positive" She whispered to herself quietly as she focused once more on Hanazawa sempai.

@Suku

NPC: Ai Hanazawa - Uchima Senior High Kendo Clubroom, Saturday Morning

"Yep!" replied the older girl, sitting herself down next to Kagami and smoothing out the creases that appeared on her skirt. "Hoping that you guys can get me over this slump."

Her eyes drifted back to the training boys for a split second before returning to the younger girl.

"Weights?" She asked curiously. "Doesn't that sound like something out of an action anime?"

--

@Lime Blossoms

NPC: Family Diner, Saturday Morning

The quiet ringing of a bell alerted those at the counter to the entrance of a new customer. If they were to direct their attentions to the door, they would be able to notice a rather casual-seeming young woman currently in the midst of taking off her black suit jacket. She was dressed in a semi-formal manner, wearing a crimson button-up shirt and a jet-black necktie, which shared its colour with her trousers and dress shoes. Given the choice of clothing, it was almost certain that she was another young professional, seeking a morning meal from a small, mom-and-pop diner before a stressful day.

Almost.

The mane of shockingly neon pink hair, barely tied back into a giant ponytail by a bright, sunny-shaded ribbon, was not a particularly common sight by any means, and its colour, coupled with the manner in which the ponytail bounced with every motion, only served to detract from any image of professionalism one sought to convey. Yet if that was the woman's goal, it was a setback that evidently did not worry her, because she sat down in front of the counter as if without a care in the world.

"Good morning," she said in polite greeting, blood red eyes scanning the room to focus on the worker at the counter. "What's the special today?"

After a total of three grueling train rides and another few hundred meters on foot, Etsu Izumo finally made it to Uchima Senior High. She'd woken up at about 8 o'clock that Saturday morning, though judging by the time each train took to get to their individual destinations and seeing that the school must've started session by now, maybe 7 would be a better time to wake and get going by. Not that she even had the school uniform on her. Instead, Etsu was wearing a simple grey T-shirt, a heavy leather jacket and blue denim jeans that day, as well as a pair of men's size 11 sneakers on her feet. Looking at her surroundings one last time and breathing a sigh of reluctance, Etsu ventured through the front gate, where she saw many students go about making their way to what she believed would be their classes. Incidentally it would turn out that they actually had their own club meetings to go to for their various activities, but there was no way Etsu would know that.

Paying little mind to the other students, Etsu took the time to explore the school grounds, supposing that the earlier she got used to them the better. It was clear that she had no idea where she going and that she'd gotten lost in the scenery but, deciding enough was enough, she opened the closest door she could find and entered the main building itself, intent on finding the faculty office that she was meant to get to this whole time. It was here that she found a lone boy walking up and down the halls. In her mind, either this guy was trying to skip class like Etsu did from time to time back at Fukushima, or he was one of those dreaded hallway monitors she would've had to avoid like the plague whenever she decided to give a certain class a miss. Either way, there was no sense avoiding him this time...

"Hey, um... excuse me," Etsu approached the boy as she said this, "I have an appointment with the faculty today, at about... 9:30, I think it was? Maybe 9:25 or something? Anyway, I need directions to their office, please. I've been looking all over the place for it..."