The words hung over the archway into Ishin Academy’s campus grounds, the giant torii standing overhead as students passed underneath with pamphlets in hand. It was a statement both explicitly and subliminally asserting Ishin’s Japanese pride above all else.
“To Soar Skyward”, Ishin’s beloved mantra, was sometimes undercut by that of the academy’s less formal apophthegms. Those that rejected the practices of their Chinese, European, and American contemporaries. Ishin’s goal was to protect Japan, whatever Japan was, by any means necessary and in the mind of its School Board they would do their best to foster only the highest bar of Japanese excellence. Though, there were murmurs, as there were often, that perhaps Ishin was changing and changing forward. If it was true, it would certainly explain some of the first year students walking underneath Ishin’s torii on this splendid April morning in Hokkaido.
Of the hundreds of applicants to Ishin’s newest batch of students, only a small handful had gotten in. There were only twenty seats in Class 1A waiting to be filled, after all. To those lucky few, their acceptance letter and official school pamphlet and bullet pass had been in their mailbox by January, giving them a few anxious months to wait for the big day where they would be tested in the historic halls of Ishin Academy. In said pamphlet there would be all of the needed information about Ishin and Sapporo itself; directions how to get there, a set of school uniforms tailored to their metabiology and physical figure, and a printed guide and databook. Really, the pamphlet was more of a manual than a small pamphlet. It all led the way to preparing the students for the day that would change their lives forever. They had made it into one of the top three hero schools in Japan. Everything that came next was up to them.
If they failed to soar, well, Ishin had given them all the tools to succeed so who really would be at fault there? No matter what it took to reach it, Ishin students were expected to be hungry and dedicated to their dream to become a Pro-Hero.
As students flocked in, some students and faculty members talked amongst themselves in the courtyard. For the first years, this was their first time to really take it all in. The sight of Ishin, in the flesh. They had some time. Students had yet to move into the event hall for the big speech. That was still several minutes away.
For those who immediately went in to wait, they would find themselves and other students being directed into crowds organized by class year.
Location: Event Hall, Ishin Academy
Mizuhana Yoshiba crossed her arms, the academy pamphlet loosely held by her right hand.
“This is it, huh?” Yoshiba muttered, unamused by not only Ishin but herself.
It was no secret that Ishin was known for getting results from their students but it was still a school that was proud that made something out of people who weren’t worthy of UA. For any other student that may have been a breath of fresh air, but Yoshiba didn’t see herself as the worst of the worst by a long shot. Mizuhana Yoshiba was the daughter of two acclaimed pro heroes. She had worked hard to be a cut above anyone else she had ever met. She pushed herself every single day. But this was where she ended up, all because she wasn’t good at the unimportant nonsense that was on the acceptance exams of every single hero academy in Japan: book smarts.
Yoshiba sighed as she moved forward. Maybe if she had been better with books she would've been at UA instead.
As she moved through the hallway corridors she knew that this would be the beginning of her hero career whether she liked it or not. There was no going back in time and doing better; she didn’t have a time quirk, if such a thing even existed. Ishin would be remembered as the academy where the history books would note that the legendary pro hero Mizuhana Yoshiba attended and graduated at the top of her class. The thought was a compromise Yoshiba made with herself to amend for her failure of not being able to attend UA in the first place. She would get her hero license and be remembered as the best. There was no question in her mind about that fact.
Everyone here is second to me. Sidekicks, all of them.
As everyone began filing into the hall, the blue-haired teenager knew it was time. She wasn’t one of those second-rate delinquents who valued herself so little that she would ever consider being late. It didn’t matter what the headmaster had to say about Ishin, Yoshiba had already made up her mind and figured out a set of goals, as unrealistic as they may have been. Still, she would sit down with the sidekicks in the section of the ceremony hall that had been designated to her “year group”. Mizuhana Yoshiba was not a slacker. She hated slackers.
A strange wave of cultural nostalgia, one might even say, "national pride", passed over Gendou as he entered the Ishin school grounds, a testament to Ishin's identity. Gendou looked about nervously, but his anxiety right now was more akin to giddiness. He had made it, and he knew that his mother's spirit was watching over him. Gendou had done his best to try to fit in, hoping to discard his status as social outcast and prime target for bullying, so he had worn the uniform that had been sent to him along with his acceptance letter and the guidance pamphlet.
There seemed to be a crowd at the entrance, probably first years like himself taking a picture at the gate to commemorate their acceptance, but Gendou was by himself, and felt a selfie was a bit...disrespectful given the gravitas of the school. Besides, Gendou didn't want to screw up in the slightest, and had resolved to never be late for anything, especially not on on his first day. So the first order of business would be to get to the entrance speech well before it started. To avoid physical contact, Gendou kept his distance from the crowd and shuffled his way past the gate when he heard a loud announcement.
Slightly startled, Gendou turned to look at what all the fuss was about, and saw Haruhi greeting the school. The thought to wave at her and return the greeting crossed his mind, only to be immediately crushed by a pessimistic sense of low self-worth. She obviously wasn't directing her greeting at him, and trying to talk to her would probably just throw off her vibe. She was clearly enjoying herself, and didn't need Gendou's awkwardness to spoil her mood. During this momentary introspection, Gendou caught himself staring and immediately averted his gaze, hoping that he hadn't creeped her out too much. With heavy thoughts of sudden doubt weighing on him, Gendou hung his head and quickened his pace towards the assembly hall. He would feel more at ease sitting as it would allow himself to feel smaller and less exposed.
Maki Kirika sniffled and wiped her nose as she stomped up the street, her dad's old trench coat—now hers, she supposed—worn over her brand-new Ishin Academy uniform. She'd been having trouble sleeping for the past couple nights. And really, who wouldn't lose some sleep if they were about to start classes at the second-ranked hero academy in the entire country? She was lucky she'd been able to sleep at all. But unfortunately, it had given her a frustratingly bad cold. And though she was nearly over it now, fever all gone and no longer coughing, she was still incredibly congested and far more sneezy than she would have liked. Which wasn't quite the first impression she wanted to make on her fellow students. She wanted to pop out in a good way, not look like a sick mess.
Well. It was better to introduce herself looking like a sick mess than looking like nothing at all. She shivered as a particularly nippy wind blew over her. It was cold today. She looked down briefly at the trench coat. Thanks for the coat, dad.
It wasn't long before she stood before the imposing gate of Ishin Academy, a crowd of people standing in front. Probably other first years. Well, time to make a first impression, hmm? An impression that people would remember. And so she marched up to the thickest part of the crowd and started to shove her way through. "Coming through! Out of the way!" Frustrated voices followed voices her and she smiled to herself. All eyes on her.
When she broke through, she sighed quietly to herself before continuing. Someone shouted behind her and she tossed a glance over her shoulder. A girl with brilliant green hair had popped out of the crowd in a similar fashion to her and she gave a little internal cringe. Was that really what she'd looked like, pushing her way through the crowd? How embarrassing.
She shook her head, throwing the thought out. No time for that kind of thing today. Just rapid footsteps as she walked quickly towards the school proper. There'd be lockers for her to stick her coat in, right?
For many of the kids gathered at the front gates of Ishin Academy, today was a great day -- a first momentous step that would carry them across the starting line and onto the path of chasing their wildest dreams. The fires of anticipation burned within their hearts, driving them onward into the tumultuous throng so that they might enter into their future one measly step ahead of the rest. They were like ants, really -- all scrambling about in a writhing, teeming mass, stumbling over each other in their haste to reach a goal that was ultimately pointless.
It wasn't that Nishikiyama Izuna didn't understand their enthusiasm, of course. She just had a much more valid reason for wanting to get inside as soon as possible.
Drip. Drip.
COLD. OH GOD IT'S SO COLD.
She had emptied out her Quirk as best she could that morning before getting on the train, wringing every last droplet from her storage like some kind of metaphysical dish rag. Unfortunately, it had snowed the night before all the way up the train line she'd been taking, and the amount of moisture in the air as it melted under the sunlight had been more than enough to fill her back to full capacity before she knew it. It had taken every last ounce of her willpower to keep from flooding the train car, for crying out loud! And so, just as soon as she'd gotten off of it and forced her way out of the station, the relief she had felt had been almost palpable.
Then she had lost her focus, and now look where she'd ended up: soaked to the skin, with icicles already forming at the tips of her silvery hair and frost covering the surface of her already infuriatingly stiff uniform. The thick, tarp-like substance they'd made her stupid mandatory blazer out of had been hard enough to move in to begin with, but now she could hardly even raise her arms thanks to the layer of solid ice coating her sleeves! If it weren't for the insulated wetsuit she'd put on underneath the rest of her outfit, she'd have probably turned blue by now. Her barbels twitched and thrashed about with repressed anger as she tried once again to force her way through the crowd, the photophores in each tendril lighting up a violent shade of crimson.
No dice. Nobody was paying any attention to her. Already, her "tank" was starting to fill up again, and between her discomfort, anxiety, and sheer overwhelming frustration, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold onto it for long. So, rather than holding it in, she tried a new approach. The ice coating one of her arms began to crack and fall away as she forced her hand straight upward, then blasted a jet of water straight up into the air like a geyser. The fwoosh as the water sprayed high overhead caused most of the crowd around her to disperse in confusion at the sudden noise -- a decision they soon became thankful for as a deluge of droplets descended back into Izuna's upraised hand and vanished into it -- with only her generosity saving those around her from getting doused just as she herself already had been.
"Oh, so now I've got your attention," she grumbled. Regardless, since all eyes were on her, she supposed she might as well take advantage of that while she could. So, furrowing her brow and shooting an irritable glare at everybody around her, she cleared her throat, and then...
"Ehem! Outta the way, small fry! I'm gettin' inside before I freeze my ass off and there's nothin' any of you can do to stop me!"
...Nobody seemed to have a problem with those terms, and so, dripping and shivering, the indignant aquatic girl strode through the parted sea of people in front of her, and into the courtyard, leaving behind a trail of rapidly-freezing droplets in her wake. It was only once she was out of the crowd that she realized...
Wait... wasn't that like, the worst first impression ever? Oh god, what if they realized --
She shook her head and slapped her scaled cheeks, dislodging this panicked line of thought before it could take hold.
No, no. Not going there. It's fine, Izuna. Everything's fine. You didn't mention the dragon this time, and there's only one person here who knows about that anyway. Just pretend it didn't happen. It didn't. Happen.
Right. Much better. Right now, there were more important things to worry about anyway. Like where the hell the door was, or if they had any towels. Another gust of wind blew across the courtyard, and Izuna sneezed as the shivers returned in full force.
Location: @Ishin Academy Entrance Interaction: @Jerks?Ah, Ishin Academy. It looked exactly like all of the photos online: big, expensive, pretentious, and with no small amount of national pride. Actually that last part was kind of cool, it was always nice to see a traditional aesthetic mixed with a more modern one.
Touko stood outside of the academy's massive main gate, holding a large rolling suitcase with two more smaller ones strapped to it in one hand. The other hand pushed her glass up to once again sit on the bridge of her nose before gripping the strap of a cross-body bag tightly. She shuffled forward and mixed in with the crowd, finding warmth in the body temperature of the surrounding students as they moved as one mass toward the courtyard. She suppressed a yawn, but only barely. It was a nine hour ride from Tokyo here to the Academy, and she'd had pretty much no sleep since the night before last. Running on two hours! More than enough. Still, Ishin was pretty far from the city she'd spent all of her life so far in. She doubted that Sapporo had the sheer convenience of the capital. She'd had to get used to a whole new place. Plus it was still this cold in April. Plus she was forced to adhere to a very strict dress code (though to be fair she'd probably end up testing the boundaries there). Plus, she'd had to pack up all her beloved computers and drag them all the way out here, because like hell she'd be leaving them all alone at home.
...maybe I should have applied to UA.
She as she was daydreaming about a different school, a harsh shove brought her back to reality outside of Ishin's gate. A girl walked briskly through, inconsiderate to literally everyone around her.
"Hey! You forget to open your eyes this morning?" She called after the girl, harumphing as she readjusted her bags. There was excitement, and then there was downright rudeness. It wasn't long after that Touko felt another press of someone pushing her, followed by a similar demand for people to move out of the way. This time she held tight to her belongings, and though not nearly aggressive as the first push Touko still said bitterly, "Watch out!"
If that wasn't already bad enough, after heading in toward the gate like a normal person with the rest of the crowd, Touko heard the sound of a water geyser behind her. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to pull her luggage close to her, but thankfully there was no drenching to be had. There was another girl at the center of the disturbance, yet again demanding a path through the throng of people.
She couldn't believe it. Was this a city of savages or something?! Or did this type of elite school just happen to attract loud-mouthed bitches? Ooooh Touko could feel her annoyance grow. She was sure that there would be a visible vein pulsing on her forehead soon.
Touko made it into the hall quickly after that. Though she didn't push, scream, or threaten to douse anyone she had started to radiate a nasty aura stemming from her thoughts, complete with a small and somewhat creepy smile that made anyone who noticed it more likely to give her some space. Big egos and bullies were nothing she hadn't dealt with before, and she could be mean too - though currently she was trying to lull herself out of the bad mood by thinking to herself. Things like, if anyone thinks they can push I, Touko around at this school then I will just become a bigger bitch. The Mega Bitch if you will!! and of course, Lucky for them it's the opening ceremony and I'm feeling nice, or I'd destroy all their social media accounts! Fufufu.
Were they heroic thoughts? No. But that was what she was here for, wasn't it? To learn how to be a professional hero. And she was going to succeed at it.
Kayo gritted her teeth beneath a placid smile as not one, not two, but three different people shoved their way by her, knocking her smaller frame around a bit like a ragdoll as the crowd flexed around them. They must've been upperclassmen. Nobody else would push through like that. She almost wanted to snarl at them. If she gets me wet in this weather, I'm going to hurt her soooo much. But she didn't, obviously, because she was better than they were, a fact which was more than evident now. Obviously.
She'd gotten off the night train from Kyoto right around the crack of dawn—it had really been cold then—and spent an hour waking herself up some and privately sneering at her mom while sitting in a charming little coffee shop, sipping on a hot cocoa and nibbling on a pastry. She she didn't really know the name of it. Something French, she thought. It had been pretty good, she'd need to go back to that place after school sometime. She tried her best to remember exactly where it had been, before a particularly chilly gust of wind brushed her hair against her face and prompted a surprised sneeze. She'd think about it later. She remembered the name if nothing else.
In contrast to those three idiots from before—silver hair, green hair, fish, she would remember them for sure—she dawdled a bit in how she moved through the courtyard, very occasionally sliding by someone with a saccharine "Sorry! Excuse me! Oh, I'm sorry!" The crowd rankled her slightly. She should be out in front of them, naturally. But being out in front of them wouldn't do her any favors socially, as those three had conveniently demonstrated. And Kayo was nothing if not socially conscious. So she was in no hurry to get into the hall quite yet. It was cold, certainly, but the oversized, fluffy pale green sweater she wore over her uniform cut most of the chill.
Ahhh, there was the fish girl with the white hair, shivering like mad. Burying her disdain, she came up behind her. She was tall, wasn't she? An upperclassman, definitely. Probably a third year, if she had to guess. So why was she standing out here if she was so cold? Well, the thought presented itself easily, it's because she's a moron. Which would only make her job easier, wouldn't it? Having an upperclassman on her side would do wonders for her. Get her a nice little headstart in front of everyone else. Even though it wasn't like she needed it or anything. So she walked up behind her, and tapped her gently on the shoulder.
"Excuse me," she said sweetly, pitching her voice up to where it sat in day-to-day life. "You're an upperclassman, right? I'm Nigata Kayo, a first year. I'm a liiiittle bit lost,"—she was not, she knew exactly where to go—"so could you show me where the event hall is, please?"
The call, no, the maddened scream came from above as a figure launches itself from one of the nearby buildings towards the school grounds. Flipping in the air with a joyful abandon, their peril was quick to tuirn to spectacle as an object in hand burst into a flash of bright golden light that soon formed into a curved hook to catch onto one of the decrated tree limbs that lined the streets.
Once, Twice, Three times would the loud figure whirl around before momentum finally launches them forward into a rather rough looking rollalong the snow covered ground, the slick icy terrain taking them a bit further than they ended until they finally find their feet, skiding to a stop right before a green-eyed student and taller one with white hair.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaannd saaaaaaaaaffffffffffffffffffffe." Justice bellows as he comes to a stop just short of crashing into the green-haired girl, arms pinwheeling a bit inan effort to balance himself out as he got toa more steady footing. Running a hand through platinum blonde hair, the student gave the two girls a dazzling smile and a snappy salute as if he hadn't been about to crash into them. "Heh, Sorry about that, misjudged my landing but I'd say that's not bad for a first try with no practice, run, huh?"
As he stood there, the two could see that while the boy had 'spruced up' his uniform, mainly in the lapel and the bottom edges all having the kanji for Justice sewn onto them in a bright gold thread. He'd also replaced the buttons to shiny golden ones as well.
"The name's Justice or Justice, take your pick really, and I . . . am a bit lost. Do either of you know where Class 1A is supposed to gather? I'm pretty sure my dad told me about it but I, uh, can't say remember much about the conversation."
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
The train ride had been hellish. Ten hours, cooped up in a little metal box, surrounded by people he didn't know, all by his lonesome. The poor salary man he had shared a pair of seats with for the journey looked nearly as terrified as Murasame had felt during the ordeal, and it was a small blessing that half way through the journey that the fellow got off at one of their many stops, leaving him to his own own devices, to fret and panic while the metaphorical prison which held him barreled through Honshu and onward to Hokkaido. His destination had been nearly as imposing as the trip itself; Ishin Academy, where his grandfather had cut his teeth in the industry of old, and where his elder sister, Samehana, had graduated not months prior. He wished, even as he hunched down to step out of the carriage and onto the platform, that she still attended the prestigious academy. If nothing else, she could have soothed the tempest of insecurities swirling about his mind in the lead up to his enrollment. Or, at least, beat the worries out of him. More than likely beat them out of him.
In hindsight, it was probably for the best that Samehana hadn't come with him.
He was a big boy, both literally and figuratively. He didn't need his big sister to hold his hand on the way to school any more. That resolve kept him moving even when he seemed to like to be caught up among the waves of commuters, although given his size, he had more than enough of a berth in even the heaviest of rush hours. The first order of business was to change—stylish as it was, he didn't think his favorite leather jacket and new blue jeans would please the dean of such a strict school. A lavatory, and some finessing to squeeze into the stall would allow him to change into the carefully tailored uniform in his backpack. Only then would he be presentable enough to march on Ishin as generations of Mizushima had before him.
Of course, such a march gave him ample time to get lost in his thoughts. Something that became obvious to the neurotic giant after he excused himself from the restroom and navigated out into the streets of Sapporo. It felt so... incredibly foreign to him. He had lived in Osaka for all his life, and had never been more than a few hours away from home, and all its comforts. Sapporo might have been dwarfed in scale by the packed streets of Osaka, but devoid of the familiarity of his home turf, the hulking teen couldn't help but feel like the small one as he meandered his way down avenues that he had committed to memory with the express purpose of arriving at the campus on time.
But it didn't take all that long to realize that, after a couple of discrepancies between map and mind and street below, that Murasame had become lost in more than just his thoughts. That's when the panic really set in. If his anxiety had been simmering beneath the surface since his mother kissed him goodbye and his father waved him off at the station, it boiled fully over when he realized he had managed to veer off course and into the wild unknown. What the hell was he gonna do?! He hadn't thought to actually bring the map of the city with him! Space was at a premium with his uniform taking up so much space, and it was only supposed to be so many blocks from the station exit! It was entirely possible that he had gone in the wrong direction, and simply retracing his steps back to the station might've helped his memory, but that would take time! There wasn't much time before the opening ceremony, and he couldn't afford to be late—he already stuck out like a sore thumb! Being tardy to such a prestigious event wouldn't just paint him him as monster, but a delinquent too!
He was practically hyperventilating by the time he found some small amount of respite. Across the way, in the corner of his vision, he caught sight of his salvation. Another student, with a matching uniform! That meant she was bound for Ishin too, so all he had to do was follow her and they'd inevitably end up at the school. But he couldn't just do that, right? That would be stalking, and he didn't want to ruin someone's day by making them think some fish-eyed freak was prowling after them on the street. He had to meet them head on, and introduce himself! Then, he could explain the whole thing and they could walk to school together. It was foolproof.
Waiting for the light to turn, the bulky teen hurried his way through a crosswalk to the other side of the street, where he planned his approach. Just walk up, say hello, introduce himself, explain the situation. Just walk up, say hello, introduce himself, and explain the situation. He took a deep, steadying breath as he lumbered towards his fellow student (which sounded more like a snarl, given his unique dental situation), and tapped her on the shoulder with all the care he could manage.
"You, uh, you're a student, right? At, at Ishin—the hero school, you go there, right?" He rumbled, his fingers curling into a fist in frustration. They were just words! If he could order his own Big Wacs now, then he could ask for directions!
"I uh, I could use some directions. To the school. I gotta get there for the opening ceremony today and I'm... I'm lost, is all. I'm not from around here, so..."
“I don’t wanna go,” Saika had said, with one foot already out the door. “I'm gonna fuck it up. No one’s gonna want me there anyway.”
Her mom, who was only halfway through her morning coffee and thus incapable of expressing human sympathy, looked at her flatly from the kitchen counter and shrugged. “Sounds like their problem,” she’d said, before looking back down at the cluster of manila folders and old, ragged papers. “Knock out a few teeth. Might help’em solve it.”
The train ride had been long, or maybe it had been short; she hadn’t paid too much attention, really. The whole time was spent anxiously bouncing her leg, listening to angry American music that she couldn’t understand but could definitely feel. Her playlist was mostly that—loud, angry, menacing. Made her blood rush in the good way. The useful way.
It was still early when she finally reached Sapporo, and way fucking colder than she’d expected. Winter was supposed to be over goddammit, and the cheapo uniforms Ishin might as well have been made of toilet paper for all the good they did her. Sure, it might have helped to zip the jacket up, but she was wearing one of her favorite shirts today, and as strict as this place was, she didn’t know how many opportunities she’d get to bust out the hall-of-famers she’d stuffed in her backpack.
Besides, she could make it to the academy before the frostbite set in. She’d burnt a fair bit of blood before she left, but towards the end of the ride she’d begun to taste metal in her mouth. Probably for the best if she didn’t walk into her first day of school cosplaying the elevator from The Shining.
So, Saika swished her mouth around, felt it fill with iron, and then unceremoniously spat a glob of blood into her hands. Walking over to the grass, she worked it like lather, and then with an inner nudge, the stuff lit up like gasoline. She pressed her fiery palms to her face, vigorously rubbing her cheeks and neck, combing burning fingers through her hair. None of it caught fire—though if she’d been less careful she might have accidentally singed her uniform—and she didn’t burn, either. All she felt was a gentle, pleasant warmth, which was just about all she ever felt when she touched her own quirk, aside from tired.
Finished, she flicked what ashen residue remained from her hands, and they were utterly clean again. Cleaner, even, than they had been before. Sanitizer be damned, the bane of all germs was fire.
As she began parse out where she was going, a massive shadow eclipsed her, and someone tapped her very gently on the shoulder. She turned while they began to ask her something, but she hardly heard them. As soon as she realized she was staring point-blank at a stomach she jolted, and looked up. And up. And up.
“Holy fucking sh—” she started, as she finally met eyes with the beast. “—aaaaaark...”
It took her many moments to stop staring, and several more to realize that she was being rude, and also that he’d asked her a question.
“Uh…” she mumbled, blinking. When he didn’t miraculously vanish, she wrangled her composure back and cleared her throat. “Oh, woah. Sorry. You said—what’d you say? Directions to the school? Are you a teacher?”
No, idiot, she thought, finally noticing his uniform. He’s a fucking student. He’s a fuckingstudent?
“Shit, no, yeah. I’m new here, too,” she said. “I...think I know where I'm goin' though, wanna just come with me?” Without really waiting for an answer, she started off, walking backwards as if to usher him along. “Oi, you got a name, big dude?”
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
While it wasn't the worst reaction somebody had ever blurted out when he approached them, the girl's shock at his scale certainly didn't help Murasame's nerves any. But she hadn't screamed, or called for help, or offered all the yen in her wallet in return for being left alone! So, in that regard, it was his victory. An elephantine hand found its way behind his head as she sputtered through her initial thoughts and found her bearings, and the smile he offered would be considered apologetic on anybody else, but truthfully ended up the same way all his smiles did—full of far too many teeth, and with too little context.
"It's alright, I uh... I get that a lot," He explained, although when she offered to accompany him along the way, he could only nod vigorously in gratitude, "Y-Yeah! It's fine with me if it's fine with you. I'll be in your care."
Lumbering along the crosswalk after her, it took effort to withhold his sigh of relief. Not only had he managed to luck into another student, but she seemed more than willing to help him remedy his blunder. Maybe he'd actually manage to make the opening ceremony on time, if he was working on someone else's schedule. Regardless of his stroke of good fortune, however, he wasn't entirely out of the metaphorical woods. He still had to try and make small talk with the girl. Which... generally began with introductions. Which she had already asked for, moments earlier.
"Uh, right, name. I've got one of those. Mizushima Murasame. Just got in from Osaka this mornin'. I'm gonna be startin' my freshman year at Ishin today. Which, you uh, already know," Although he was sure he couldn't possibly have looked any more uncomfortable, the need to silently scold himself stayed strong. How the hell did people manage to converse with total strangers?!
...I may, perhaps, have underestimated the natures of those who, in today's peaceful day and age, would seek to become heroes of justice. So it was that with a dreadful sense of sudden certainty, I realized far too late that perhaps, in time, the indistinct noise and bustle of stumbling drunkards, angry wage slaves, and depressed public servants in the old districts of Tokyo might quickly begin to seem preferable to my current environs.
But it's a terribly unpleasant feeling, viewing the world through the lens of somebody else's thoughts -- isn't it? So rather than taking the first opportunity I get to regale you with an unending diatribe of my own jaded (Heh.) musings, perhaps it would be better to treat this as a sort of conversation? But where to begin, then? After all, I haven't had any of those worth remembering in quite some time.
Ah. Right. A self-introduction.
My name is Manaka Kokone. I'm 14 years old, and am just starting my first year of junior high as a student of Isshin Academy, in Hokkaido. I have never had a boyfriend, nor is there anyone from my former class whom I was particularly close to.
If I had to describe myself, I suppose I would say that I am something of a recluse by nature. I strongly dislike crowds, noisy people, and social functions that serve no purpose but to uphold meaningless ceremony. If I must do something, I should like that thing to be important. And, if I can at all help it, I would much prefer the company of a good movie or book to that of my peers.
This is not because I am the kind of person who holds petty grudges, mind you; nor is my aloofness due to some misbegotten sense of superiority. I simply find other people's presences unbearably stifling.
Yes, exactly as stifling as you find me right now, in fact. After all, I'm in the prime of my youth, about to make my grand debut upon the glorious and tragic stage known as high school! Why should I be uttering such gloomy thoughts, even if only in the solace of my own psyche?
Hey! Pretentious I'll allow, but I draw the line at narcissistic!
Ugh. Fine. You're free to think whatever you want... But since you're clearly getting tired of listening to me talk about myself, I'll stop being so melodramatic and just... cut to the chase.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I’m a person who wishes to live a very quiet life. Making friends is just as stressful as making enemies, so --
Will you stop interrupting me?! And what the heck is a "Jojo's Reference" anyway?
...Ugh. Happy now? I've totally lost my train of thought. Now we have to start all over again! But where should I even begin? It has to be at least sort of dramatic or else nobody will even be interested. How about...
It was a cold and snowy day.
...No, that doesn't work at all. I mean, most of the snow's already melted since the sun came out, and there's barely any more coming down. Sure, it is still cold, but... isn't that just false advertising?
Maybe the genre's the problem. Rather than a hard-boiled film noir detective's internal monologue, maybe something more personal and friendly would be better, like an early morning radio announcer?
Mm. Yeah. That might be a little easier on both of us.
Ehem! From the top, then!
TAKE 2
Hello, world! It's your girl, Manaka Kokone here, coming to you live from the front gates of Isshin High!
...Ooooooor maybe from the gates of hell. Honestly, looking at the scene in front of me, I'm not actually sure which it is.
For those of you just tuning in, let me set the stage for you. I had a rough trip up from Tokyo via the undersea rail line that took... well, most of yesterday. And by the time I arrived in Sapporo, I was expecting that I could find a place to stay in a hotel somewhere close to the school, then make the rest of the trip in the morning.
The hotel was... quite nice, actually. The walls of my room were mercifully thick -- so much so that I could barely even hear the thoughts of the vacationing college couple in the neighboring suite, even without my headphones on while I was showering. After saying a quick prayer to thank the kami, Jesus, Buddha, and whoever else might be listening for that mercy, I quickly covered my ears before they got any more ideas unfit for a junior high schooler's "pure" mind, set my alarm early for the big day tomorrow, and fell asleep almost before I knew it.
...Well, let it not be said that a mind reader is infallible. Apparently, I had failed to account for the rather important distinction that Isshin wasn't in Sapporo. It was near Sapporo. More specifically, it was almost a full hour's train ride outside of city limits, followed by a bus ride, followed by a walk that felt more like a hike. And, well... I have my pride, but even so, I like to think of myself as a realist. And looking at the situation realistically, it's honestly miraculous that I managed to haul all my luggage that far all by myself at all when it probably weighs twice as much as I do, and is half again as big to boot.
...Yeah. I'm a scrawny little pipsqueak. I know. It's fine. I am at peace with what I am. It doesn't bother me at all. It doesn't. Bother. Me.
...It bothers me a lot.
Needless to say, my plans of arriving early were dashed. Instead, I found myself rather unfortunately located on the far outer ring of the throng of people all nudging, shouting, pushing, and shoving their way through the front gates. And, on account of my afforementioned smallness, the moment I tried to slip through a gap...
...Well, let's put it this way. Do you know what happens to a twig when it's dropped into rushing water?
Yeah. Something like that. Which brings me to my present predicament.
See, as I probably told you before, crowds and I... we don't really mix well. Or, to put it more bluntly, I hate them. I hate the noise of everybody talking over each other. I hate the noise of everybody thinking even louder than that. I hate how angry it makes me when everybody wants to be somewhere and can't get there and so they just sit and sit and stew in their own frustration until it spills over and gets all over my own thoughts and --
And isn't it just a lovely day? Isn't it so nice that the sun is shining and the snow has mostly stopped and so I only had to drag myself here through the mud instead of wading knee deep in the snow? And aren't we all just so excited that in just a few short hours, we're gonna be taking our first steps towards being heroes?
Yeah, it's a great day today. I'm happy. I'm so darned happy I can hardly bear it!
OR AT LEAST I WOULD BE IF PEOPLE WOULD STOP TOUCHING ME.
Seriously, why is everybody so nervous!? You got accepted to the second best hero school in the entire country, and your first thought is to worry that you won't make the cut and you'll get kicked right out again!? Come on, have some bloody confidence! If even a half-baked person like me could make it in, you've got nothing to worry about, right? Oh, sure, you've had a bad few weeks. Your girlfriend dumped you because she didn't want to date long distance? Well maybe you should have talked things over with her first! If people would just actually communicate with each other, then half of their pointless woes would be --
And you! Stop pushing me! I don't care that your grandpa's sick, so stop thinking about it so loudly! ...Although he seems like a very nice man and it would be a terrible shame if anything happened to him, so fine, I hope he gets well soon -- NOW STAY OUT OF MY HEAD! STOP REMINDING ME OF --
...For just a split second, I want to go home. Failing that, I want to curl up in a corner somewhere and disappear. I want to vomit. I want to --
Deep breaths, Kokone. Deep breaths and happy thoughts. Or, if "happy" is too high a bar right now, I can at least take some solace in the fact that I'm not the only one who's miserable. Schadenfreude is a powerful thing, and right now, there's... there's...
...There's so many weirdos. And yes, I know I'm one to talk.
Somewhere up ahead of me, a person who thinks in Grey is trying to pretend her thoughts have some color to them. Which is to say, she's pushing and shoving her way forward with every last ounce of strength she has, relishing in the spite-filled gazes of those around her... until she had to actually meet them, anyway.
Yeah. That's right. That's exactly what you looked like. You're not the big girl on campus, you're just... kind of being a jerk.
In the Grey's wake, someone whose thoughts are Colorless angrily shouted after her, grumbling something I couldn't quite hear -- or rather, thinking something I can't quite make out, about becoming a "mega bitch."
...Well, I can understand her frustration, at least, though her way of expressing it was... questionable. Still, at least her thoughts were more intelligible than the... Orange? Blue?
Well, whoever she is, she forced the surrounding crowd aside with a rather shocking display of some kind of water Quirk, blasting a small geyser into the air that sent the people around her scattering.
I almost feel sorry for her, hearing her complaints about the cold and given the ice covering her clothing. And I almost felt grateful there for a moment that she parted the crowd enough for me to slip through in her wake. But mostly, I just feel confused, since, after all, she's currently rejoicing that nobody else knows about the "Dragon" --
...Ah. A secret. Or... more like a dark history. Well, I'm terribly sorry, but there is someone who knows about it, and she's right here.
Seriously, though. Why's everyone so caught up on making a first impression when all of that will be forgotten once our actual training begins? Do they seriously think they'll be remembered for how they entered the school when it's their performance under pressure and their usage of their Quirks that will make or break their aspirations?
Well, it's often said that actions speak louder than words. But, I suppose, some people's actions, like their thoughts, speak too loudly.
...Oh. Speak of the devil. There's a very special sort of person amongst us -- a person whose thoughts echo with glistening Gold. His very presence is like a deafening roar, his aura like blinding sunlight. And to be honest, I couldn't tell if that was just my synesthesia acting up again, or his actual Quirk, given the way he just launched himself over everybody's heads and skidded to a stop in the courtyard, bellowing bombastically all the while... then laughing about how it "wasn't bad for a first try."
He's lying, by the way. This young man had crashed and faceplanted in ways I scarcely even thought possible practicing that little stunt, and even with all that effort he'd almost messed it up this time, too.
...Between him and the lighter, purer Blue thoughts calling me and everyone else in the assembled crowd "sidekicks" just because its owner hadn't quite made the cut for UA, I honestly can't even tell whose ego is more fragile.
This is a hero school, right? I didn't take a wrong turn somewhere and end up in a clown college?
Regardless, I'm not exactly about to stay out in the midst of this throng of lunatics any longer than I have to. So, with the crowd distracted by the various showoffs in front of the school, and with I myself having at last broken through, I make my way to the assembly hall...
Mizushima Murasame—that checked out. She wondered absently if he had been named after his birth, once his folks had gotten a good look at him; she wondered presently how in the fuck another freshman could get so big. Well, she knew how, but even by mutation standards, he had to be a freakish curveball. Like Hana-kun from elementary school, who had noses where he ought to have had eyes. And ears. And thumbs. Nothing where his nose would have been, though.
Weird kid, way into Bakugan. Saika guessed if he’d gotten to pick, he’d have wanted to be a giant shark instead.
“Freshman? No shit? Fuck yeah, awesome—same. I’m Saika,” she said, and held back both her family name, as well as the reflex to shake his hand. “So you’re a city boy, huh? My family used to live around here before I was born, but I’m from Sado, so all this…” she gestured broadly to the tall buildings and the crowds. “Not gonna lie, kinda messin’ with me. Don’t worry though, we’re going the right way—I think. Prob’ly. But hey, you know, even if we’re late what are they gonna do? I bet you could walk up there five hours from now and they’d let you in like you owned the place.”
The thought brought grin to her, but as fun as it might be to see Murasame scare the shit out of Ishin faculty, it was probably best not to push her luck on the first day. At least not that much. Not yet.
As they continued to walk, Saika noticed he was taking slower, more measured steps to match pace with her. Made sense, she was leading the way after all, but damned if she was gonna be the thing slowing them down. She began to take wider, longer steps, transitioning from a leisurely stroll into something akin to the sorts of power-lunging you found on videos to help old people exercise.
“Sapporo’s a long way innit?” she asked, cleaning the last smears of iron off her teeth with her tongue and spitting them onto the grass. “You shoot for UA and get stuck with Ishin? I hear that’s what happens to a lotta folks who wind up here.”
As much as she loved her dad's old coat—it was still really weird thinking of it as hers now, it had been his for so long now—as much as she loved it, she didn't really want to need it. Because, well, if she was wearing it it meant it was bad weather. And though it was really good for said inclement weather—windproof, waterproof, warm—it was for that exact reason she was sighed contentedly as, walking into the vestibule of the vaunted Ishin Academy, she undid the buttons and slid it off, barely holding back a sneeze. Stupid cold. Given she was still pretty much in the entrance it wasn't exactly warm, but it was miles better than it was outside anyway. And the wind wasn't blowing into her face anymore, which was also a major plus.
Ah. Lockers. Good.
A moment later, and she was walking down the center of the hallway with a crisp, quick stride, relishing in the feeling of the heads turning to follow her. She felt a little naked without the trench coat already, even after only wearing it for a little while. But all the attention was so comforting. It was wonderful. She felt a little bit of guilt—was this how she was really going to act in high school too? Shouldn't be beyond this kind of thing by now?—but that momentary pause brought forth a host of complicated emotions and painful memories, and a jab of fear stuck a fork into her side. So yes. Yes, this was how she was going to act in high school as well. Why bother changing it now? she thought savagely. Nobody's going to remember it or me anyway. Resolve reaffirmed, she continued her aggressive walking, occasionally roughly bumping someone out of the way. Just to reaffirm to herself that she was there.
A walk through the halls later, she was moving through the first-year section of the ceremony hall. This time, though—not really looking where she was going, she ran into someone she didn't expect: slap-bang into a short girl with blue hair that—oh, her hair was—were those tentacles? Internally, her metaphorical eyebrows shot up. Tentacle hair. Absolutely wild.
Outwardly, though, once she recovered from her stumble she stood up to her full height, glaring down at the girl. Who absolutely did not look happy with her. Alright, Kirika, she thought grimly, showtime. She hated this part.
"Are you blind or just stupid?" She was almost impressed by how aggressive her snapping voice sounded. Or, not really aggressive. How...how annoyed. Perfect. "Watch where you're going next time!"
A strand of the girl’s hair twitched, swaying back and forth like as if were the tail of an upset animal as she shot a glare back at the taller girl who towered over her diminutive, five-foot-one frame. Admittedly, Yoshiba was more than a little surprised that someone would press her this early in the school year. It was a sore reminder that she had to assert her place among her fellow first year students as they found themselves in the auditorium waiting for the opening ceremony.
“You're the idiot who doesn't look where they are going.” She shot back before her own scowl turned into a smirk, a weird oddly menacing smirk. “You're lucky I'm in a good mood, so I'll accept the apology you are about to give me right about now.”
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
While she certainly seemed a little too casual for comfort, the girl—Saika, as she had introduced herself—couldn't have been too bad a person, seeing as though she had allowed him to accompany her to the school. She proved to be rather personable to boot, but he wasn't sure whether or not that was to his benefit, given his own difficulty with conversation. He owed her a solid attempt, though, and so he nodded along as she explained her origin.
"Yeah, I can see how it'd be a bit of an adjustment. I guess it don't bother me so much, seein' as though Osaka is pretty big. Not Tokyo big, but, y'know," He sure as sugar didn't, seeing as though the closest he had ever been to the capital was on the train up to Sapporo, but it seemed a popular enough sentiment. He words in regard to their directions weren't exactly comforting, nor was the implication that he'd intimidate the faculty. He didn't want a repeat of Miss Nakamura on his hands; having to explain to the principal that you weren't attempting to threaten your math teacher into giving you a passing mark was an experience best left firmly to the past. He had just wanted to know why the equation had marked been wrong...
His guilt over terrorized educators quickly found itself replaced by his guilt over their sudden shift in pace. His companion must have realized he had been measuring his steps so as to not eclipse her, and forced herself to try and meet his unusually long strides. Luckily, the conversation carried on before he could fret too long over it.
"Yeah, it's a bit far. But my grandpa went here when he was younger, and my sister graduated last year, so I guess Ishin is somethin' of a family thing. Didn't even think to apply to..." Murasame paused as he watched what looked to be a mouthful of blood careen from Saika's mouth and land somewhere off in the grass. His eyes immediately widened.
"Oh, jeez! Are you alright? Do we need to, uh, slow down? You really don't need to push it." The fretting returned with a vengeance—how could he have been so insensitive? He didn't know who this girl was, or what kind of Quirk she had. Maybe it was one of those Quirks he had seen on 60 Seconds, where the user's body degraded from overexertion. Pushing herself to keep up with his freakish pace must've put too much strain on her physique. There was no point in getting to school on time if he killed one of his classmates in the rush!
Saika was fairly preoccupied trying to figure out the logistics of a family tree of shark people, and while she had quickly determined that it would make sense if Murasame’s sister was a shark, like he was, it would also be much, much funnier if she was only part-shark instead. Optimally she would have a hammerhead, but there was a case to be made for flipper-arms as well. She’d gone to school with a girl who’d had a giant otter’s tail for hair, and watching her slap the shit out of people with it had been endlessly entertaining.
Before she could think too deeply about it, Murasame stopped. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected panic would sound like coming from someone who looked like a shark, but as soon as he started speaking again she knew that’s what it was.
“Huh?” she asked, looking around first, and then down at herself. Why wouldn’t she be alright? Had she stepped on something? Had she been stabbed on her first day in a big city, like everyone from small towns said would happen? Was she—
Bleeding. Shit, oops.
“Oh woah, no no man, that’s my bad,” she said, waving him down. People were starting to look at them—or, rather, at the giant shark having a moment—and she wasn’t super into that. “Just part of my quirk. I make a lot of blood.” She dug her tongue back, found a little metallic patch at the back of her throat, and spat it onto her hand. She held it out to him like it was some cool bug she’d found in the grass. “See? Like nothin’. Gotta drain some of it now and then or it starts comin’ outta my fuckin’ eyes.”
Rubbing her hands together, the blood sparked to life and burned away in a quick flash between her palms. As she shook the embers away, she spotted the golden ditches of a small WcDenji's across the street, and her stomach grumbled.
“Oi, hey, pretty hungry now that I think about it. Wanna grab something?” she asked, but had already started for the crosswalk. “If Ishin’s food is anything like their uniforms, it’ll blow ass. Might be the last decent meal we get for a while.”
Of all people, it had to be someone like this. Someone who would fire back immediately. She'd kind of hoped that the first person she talked to wouldn't be ready to fight. She bit the inside of her cheek almost enough to draw blood, though she betrayed none of it on the outside. How should she respond to this?
She gave an infinitesimal sigh. This wasn't how she'd wanted to start the year, but at least, well, mission accomplished. She and Tentacles were being stared at quite thoroughly. The weight of fear on her mind—though it was never really gone—dimmed down to the faintest of embers.
Okay, no, really. How should she respond?
Really, she wanted to give that apology. She didn't like doing any of this. But if she apologized and then left, she would disappear. Not literally, obviously, that would come later (probably). But if she slunk away she would immediately become out of sight, out of mind. She needed to leave an impression. She needed people to remember her. And if they remembered her as 'that bitch Kirika?'
...Well, it was still better than being forgotten.
So, trying to muster up an image of selfish pride, she smirked back. Hard. Patronizing.
"Aw, man, you're right, huh? I'm sorry, okaaay?" Her voice radiated insincerity and condescension as she reached out a swift hand and patted Tentacles on the head. Then she turned, flipped her hair (she'd practiced the move a thousand times in her bedroom mirror) and resumed walking. Stares followed her, and she grimaced even as she basked in their glow.
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
Murasame's eyes flickered with recognition at Saika's explanation. What a relief. He had almost been right, of course, but rather than a sign of overexertion, it was just an unfortunate side effect of her power. He almost felt bad for making a little scene about it. He was no stranger to how a Quirk could inconvenience one's daily life, after all. Having undue attention drawn to it, being made to feel like a freak for it, those feelings had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Luckily, it seemed his classmate was much less bothered by her peculiarities than he was by his own. Enough that she had already gotten moving by the time he had fully come to terms with it all.
"I, uh, are you sure about that? We don't wanna be—" He eyes nearly bulged as he watched her set the blood so gingerly offered alight right between her palms, his gaze darting back to the grass where the previous wad had landed once or twice just to make sure it hadn't started to smolder, "—late, right? That'd be pretty bad, with it bein' the first day and all."
Paragon of timeliness that he was, the teen wasn't so sure he could convince his companion to stay the more responsible course, not least because she had already taken to the crosswalk to reach the fabled WcDenji's. He stood at the crossroads, both literally and metaphorically, as he contemplated his options. To either ford ahead on the just path, and find the school without his guide, or to cave in to temptation, and allow himself to be swayed by the promise of an early morning WcSizzle.
ぐうぐうぐうぐう
While his resolve had been strong, his body, unfortunately, had been weak. His words of wisdom, advising them to remain on track, were underpinned by a thunderous rumbling from his belly. He stood, hand outreached for a few humbling seconds, his mouth agape, before his shoulders deflated entirely, his arms hanging sadly at his side.
"Yeah, y'know, sure, I guess. I could go for some hashbrowns..."
He hurried across before the light could turn green, although with no less defeat in his stride than had been in his voice.
"Ah, crap... door, door... where's the freakin' doooooorrrrrrrr...?!"
A certain aquatic student was hopping nervously back and forth in hopes of restoring some feeling to her half-frozen legs, her frilled crest curling angrily clear from her gills all the way up to the top of her head, as her transparent scales pulsed a frustrated shade of crimson and her barbels thrashed with impatience.
The front door was blocked by another crowd. Same with the gym. There was a fire escape on the side of the building, but that was probably locked and would set off alarms, and in either case if she actually tried it Saika would never let her hear the end of it.
And where was Saika, anyway? She hadn't even texted to say when she'd be showing up. Didn't she know her best buddy was freezing over here?
Ugh... That jerk! I'll bet she's busy stuffing her face at a WcDenji's or something. Of course she wouldn't care about being late. Curse you, Sai-chan! I'll never forgive you for this!
Her stomach chose that exact moment to rumble.
...Though I guess if you get me some too, I could maybe consider letting you off easy this time.
...Well, that said, it wasn't as if she had a convenient power like telepathy or mind-reading -- Careful what you wish for, Orange. -- so there was no way to actually convey that message. But Saika would understand. Surely. Definitely.
"Excuse me~?"
It took Izuna a moment to realize that the gentle, quizzical voice that only barely reached her ears over the din of the crowd was directed at her -- since the tap on her shoulder went unfortunately unnoticed due to the thickness of both her tarp-like blazer and the ice coating it. Still, after a moment of delayed realization, her pointed ears flicked up, and the pale girl spun around, only to find herself looking down at a mass of curly, oddly shiny green hair.
Oh, and, uh, the person underneath all of it. Izuna's own oddly bright golden eyes met two vertically slit green ones as she took in the face -- the scaled face of their owner. The frills along her head and neck flicked outward immediately, and the dim crimson halo that had been pulsating from the tips of her barbels clear up to her cheeks gave way to a much more welcoming blend of blue and orange.
A comrade! So I'm not the only one with scales this time!
"Ah, sorry 'bout that -- didn't see you there!" The fishy freshman gave a nervous laugh, rubbing her palm back and forth over the scales of her neck. "Can I, uh... help you, or something?"
"You're an upperclassman, right? I'm Nigata Kayo, a first year. I'm a liiiittle bit lost, so could you show me where the event hall is, please?"
...
"...Eh?" Izuna blinked, cocking her head to the side. Then slowly, deliberately, she pointed to herself. The girl standing in front of her cocked her head to the side too, not seeming to understand her confusion.
"An upperclassman?" The green-haired girl nodded.
"Who is? Me?" The green-haired girl nodded again, pursing her lips cutely, still not seeming to understand.
"I'm a first year too, though?"
...
Suddenly the air between them got really quiet, and for just a second, Izuna could have sworn she saw the other girl's eyebrow twitch -- but surely she must have been mistaken, since that innocent smile just kept on shining up at her. Oh, geez, this new kid was a little dense, wasn't she? Well, Izuna didn't know the way, but she'd feel bad about leaving someone so clueless to her own devices, so...
"Don't worry, though! I read the pamphlet. Uh... at one point. So I'm pretty sure the assembly hall is, uh... Uhhh..."
It sure would have been convenient if literally anything else happened right now so they could pay attention to it. That would have been great. Then maybe she'd have enough time to remember where she was even supposed to be going -- since her plan had basically ended at "get inside before you become an ice cube!"
...How regrettable that she hadn't made her wish more specific. Something did indeed happen at that exact moment -- but it was a something that set Izuna's every braincell to screaming as she desperately -- Unsuccessfully, I might add! -- tried to repress, uh... certain memories.
After several seconds of wide-mouthed gawking, she managed to get herself together enough to process what just happened. Some crazy boy had -- or, well, at least, she was pretty sure he was a boy -- anyway! He had just done some sort of... acrobatic ninja-flip out of a tree, then skidded to a stop right in front of them, and started screaming about JUSTICE or how he WAS Justice or... something.
Who does this kid think he is, some kind of superhero?
...It took a moment of thinking about where she was to realize how stupid that question sounded. But also, there could really only be one explanation for the... entity currently standing in front of her -- and it was one with which she was all too painfully familiar.
Making a herculean attempt not to visibly cringe, she slapped her cheeks, pasted a smile across her face, and hoped nobody noticed the frantic pulsing of her photophores or the sudden shower of water dripping from her sleeves and freezing on the ground beneath her as she tried and failed to keep her cool.
Two people were asking her for directions. One was a little dumb, the other was the physical manifestation of the phrase "dark history" despite looking like a boy idol crossed with a lightbulb. She had no idea where to go, but people all seemed to be heading in one direction, so with all the natural-ness of a robot in an old SF film, she slowly, jerkily raised her now-dripping arm and pointed vaguely in the general direction of the main building.
"...Uh... that way. To the... uh... assembly hall. Where everybody else is going."
...Yeah, no shit.
Sai-chan, everybody here is all weird and I'm the only normal one and how did this even happen? Seriously, what am I even supposed to do in this situation? Is this some kind of trial?! Augh, just hurry up and come save me!