Idly watching a cloud flutter by, Sakura absentmindedly twirled the end of her pencil around in between her lips, only catching a few fragments of what the tutor at the front was jammering on about. He was ging on about a sbject she had read about earlier: the arrangement of atoms into molecules and the powers that kept them together. It was a pity she wasn't seated directly next to the windows, perhaps whoever the teacher had even taken this into account, making sure that those most easily prone to distraction weren't directly next to the alluring sight of the skies and the lush, green grounds of Yamaku. Instead, Sakura was seated two rows away from the windows, relatively in the middle of the classroom, near the back. The strategic placing had not been lost on her, no doubt the tall people were arranged near the back to ensure a an undeterred learning process for everyone else. That was one of her main issues with Yamaku. As much as it attempted to look as normal as it possibly could, liek a regular school, everything was calculated a little too extensively, from the millimeter cut grass to the accurately proportioned food that they served in the cafeteria for the students that had to take care of what they ate. The nurse had advised her to take eat meals high on proteine to ensure she'd gain weight and muscles swiftly, but Sakura just ate what she pleased.

Finally, the bell rang, prompting every student to pass a collective sigh of relief. Somehow most people seemed to grew sleepier and sleepier towards the end of the schoolday, only to suddenly get injected by a burst of energy the moment the bell sounded their release from the confines of the classroom to enjoy the rest of the pleasant spring day it seemed to be turning out to become. "I'll be expecting exercises one to fifteen made by tomorrow, and don't forget to work on your paper on ions, which is due next week." The teacher managed to call out over the noise of everyone scrambling their things together into their backpacks, which added the simultanious, agonised groan of several less motivated students. While Sakura had been a classmember since the beginning of the year, she hadn't exactly made a whole lot of friends yet, no doubt in no small part related to her more softspoken nature. However, she had to admit that she was a little more apprehensive than she had initially anticipated. Many of the students were, in lack of a better word, weird, and that was the polite way of putting it. Obviously she had expected many students to be weird in their outwards appearance, but she had not perpared for the many quirky, if not outright odd personalities that some seemed to have, as had been proven by their antics in and out of class from what interactions she had had with them before.

With a little reluctance, Sakura scooped up her own things and dumped them into her bag which lacked any sort of order, her cane too, she reluctantly picked up. She supposed it wouldn't be accepted to try out a seat near the window and continue her train of thought. Rather recently, se had read a book about a castle in the sky, which made her pause to wonder at nearly every cloud that floated by, imagining by their shape what the arcitecture of the castle was and to which culture it belonged. Japanese, steampunk, european, african, wooden, stone, metal, ... She had even imagined how when two castles clashed together they had interactions with each other, thunder and lightning being the effect of the wars fought in between and the rain were the falling tears of its inhabitants.

It was only when she bumped into someone, hard, that she even realised that she had already left the classroom a while ago, her legs had carried her out of instinct towards the library, where she spent most of her time these days. The collision was not soft, her long legs carried her with such an increased speed these days that was hard to get used to. The downside was though, that she quickly lost her balance as well, which happened right now. Staggering backwards, her long arms flailed in the air like a drunk helicopter for a moment, almost claiming the eyes or noses from anyone standing too close. With a loud "Ouf!" She landed on her bum, quite confused and disoriented for a moment before she realised that what she had smashed into had been too soft for a wall or a pole, and had to be either a lifesized cushion, or a person. While cushions couldn't talk, she formulated her apologies quickly, before even making an attempt to get up. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there, are you alright?" She stared down at the ground, a bit too late realising that it was not the ground she had bumped into either, instead searching up to the human pillow.

Sayuri was very intelligent and had little trouble following a lecture, but the way Mutou could drone on, seemingly oblivious his student's growing boredom was too much for even her to bare. Throught the lecture she found her mind wandering until the class was finally over. Sayuri found it difficult to maneuver her wheelchair through the mass of student desks and so she invariably ended up at the desk closest to the door. As a result she was usually the first person out of the classroom, aside from those nimble enough to slip out before she could direct her motorized wheelchair around her desk.

The hallway was crowded with students and the sounds of conversation were deafening, fortunately she didn't have to worry too much about the crowd as people didn't seem to keen to risk having their toes ran over, and so gave her a wide enough berth for her to make her way down the hallway towards the elevator at the very end. She heard a commotion from somewhere behind her, but the crowd made it impossible to easily turn her chair around, so she put it out of her mind and continued on. It wasn't a very big elevator and her chair filled a little over half the space, so she ended up with just two other people in it with her. They were heading downwards, discussing what they were going to eat from the cafeteria and paying no silver haired girl sitting beside them, while Sayuri's destination was up a level.

The elevator doors slid open silently and Sayuri drove her chair out into the quiet corridor. Compared to the noise downstairs, this level of the building seemed to be deserted. Mostly this level was used for club activities and she could still hear sounds of muted discussion coming from behind closed doors as she made her way towards the large double doors at the other end of the hall. The doors were open and she rolled easily into the large quiet room, filled with shelves and books. Sayuri liked the library at Yamaku. it was a place of peace and even normalcy. Despite the fact that it stocked hundreds of books for the visually impaired, it still had that same atmosphere that all libraries had. Sayuri had been at Yamaku for over two years now, long enough to get used to the place and even come to appreciate it, but this normal library would always be her favorite place.

Sayuri smiled as she wheeled past the front desk where Yuuko, the nervous librarian, was busily checking in a pile of returned books and made her way in amongst the towering shelves. Her soft blue eyes scanned the spines of each book as she slowly wheeled down the aisles. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. She just wanted to enjoy this peaceful atmosphere for a while.

The classes were boring today. As they have been yesterday, and the day before. Mizuki never liked learning, but always did out of obligation and to keep her perfect image in the eyes of teachers and those students, who didn't know her that well. Back when these things mattered. Back when she still had a normal life, and a normal, functional body, she used to be a top of the class, honor student, an example many looked up to. However, the accident changed everything. She naively believed that she can make a new life at Yamaku, but that faith has been shattered almost instantly on the arrival. This place is sick, and so are the students ,and so is the omni present atmosphere. This is not a school, this is a hospital. Why should she try to be the best? There is not point if being a queen of retards, the best of the worst!

It's been several weeks already, and she didn't try paying attention even once. During the classes, she usually sat attentively, looked straight in teacher's direction and doodled random geometrical figures in her notebook, pretending to make notes. Geometrical figures was all she could draw, as her dominant, right hand was pretty much useless and she couldn't draw well with the left one yet. Not that she ever will-art was never her forte. Rather, the pointless, black-on-white geometrical figures, question marks and straight lines were an expression of boredom, irritation and discomfort, that accompanied her thorough her entire stay in Yamaku so far. She was sited right next to the window, but she never looked up. In fact, she wished she was sited away from it. The windows were way too big, the rooms were way to bright, and there, beyond the window, was an omnipresent, green scenery that made her feel sick, and homesick. She missed Tokyo. She missed the high sky-scrappers, and the crowds of people, and the fashion, and Shibuya. But of course, the life of Tokyo's famous youth district was beyond her reach, now that her body was the way it is. It used to be depressing back in the hospital, being so close to all these things, yet so far. Mizuki thought that staying away from the city will be less painful then not, but she was wrong, and she wanted to go back, and be free from this place, or this sick existence. Forvever.

Of course, such wishes could never be granted. The only freedom she was granted, was the freedom from this class, announced by the loud ringing of the bell, familiar tune snapping her back to reality. Mizuki did that often, lately-thinking about her miserable condition, wishing to be somewhere else, hating on her surroundings. For other people, it looked like she was "day dreaming", but to her, it was more akin to "day-nightmaring", if she was to call it anything at all. Supporting herself on the crutch, she slowly made her way out of class. Slowly. Not that she had a choice, going fast was literally impossible. That was one thing that didn't bother her in the slightest, as she was never a big fan of running and physical exercise, unpleasnatries that her accident had liberated her from, which was probably the only good thing about the entire situation.

Tap, tap, tap. Her goal was the library. Tap, tap tap. She made her way through the crowds of students, glancing left and right, observing every one of them individually and all at once. She delighted herself in spotting those who looked to be in a worse condition then herself-like that girl on the wheelchair who looked like she's two legs in grave already, pun intended. No matter how badly Mizuki felt about herself, at least she was alive and not dying-which can't be said about some of the other students, much to her amusement. However, those who looked well and didn't seem to miss anything in their body were unforgivable, and Yamaku had a fair share of such students, too. Why were they even here? They probably had some internal issues, and most of them, she bet, could lead normal life(unlike herself, for example). She'd much rather they weren't hear. She'd much rather have them disappear and be left with the ones with prosthetic limbs, crutches and wheelchairs, like she originally imagined it to be. The existence of these other..healthy..students was a shadow on her self-confidence.

Like for example, that giant red haired girl walking straight into her...eh?
There was a frontal collision, and one that couldn't possibly end well for her. Not only was her opponent at advantage(much, much taller, bigger, faster etc.), but more importantly, Mizuki was walking with a crutch, and it was hard to support herself as she was. Even a small push would be enough to bring her down-at this was much, much stronger then a small push. It felt more like a close encounter with a tsunami. Down, down she went, spinning round and round in the air, before landing face-down with a loud *thump* mixed with a louder *splash* and then loud *thump* again as her nemesis herself followed the fate of her victim shortly afterwards. Mizuki considered herself lucky that her crutch and right arm were bound together with several, thick, medical straps, that they often used in hospitals, cars, and mental facilities. Otherwise, she'd doubtlessly lose hold of it, and crawling on the ground, looking for a crutch or(even worse), asking someone to help her with that would be too much for her sense of pride and general self-respect to handle.

Supporting herself with the crutch and using her healthy hand to manually pull her paralyzed leg up, she slowly rose up, disregarding the irritating sounds the red-haired giant made behind her. After getting up, and checking that her clothes are in order(she was wearing one of the longer skirts, fortunately..dread to think what could have been exposed to the public eye should she had chosen to wear the shorter version), Mizuki finally turned around, to give a piece of her mind to the source of her misfortunes.
"Die"-was the only thing she had to say to that disorderly delinquent. Her voice cold, a mixture of hatred and disgust. From her experience, tall girls were more often then not, airheads and blissfully unaware of what a spectacle they sometimes make of themselves with their height and what not-and this one, seemed to be no different, unfortunately. Making apologies like her life depended on it. Duh. If Mizuki was healthy and well, she'd, no doubt about that, give the red hair a piece of her mind. But Mizuki wasn't healthy and well, and thus, she was careful not to lose hold of herself, too much. However, she was no angel(although she definitely used to be one) and her patience had it's limits. How the situation progressed from now on, depended solely on the actions of her villain.

And that should finish up exercise 13. Now I just have to finish these last two and then...

The bell began ringing and the sudden rush of wind that was common place where Takashi sat. Directly in the center, second row back. It seemed everyday there was some typhoon that blew past him so that everyone could get back to their homes. Something that frustrated Takashi to no end. Especially when his cane and work would fly off his desk as a result. And with no one aware of what was going on around them, he would always have to pick up his own things. Would it kill anyone to help out? No no no no, please. That would be far too much for the common folk and riff raff of Yamaku. Everyone out and concerned about what they were going to do rather than what they did to others around them. You would think that with everyone suffering from some kind of ailment there would be more precedent to care for thy fellow man. Then again most people here were still very young and naive so perhaps that was excuse enough.

Staying in his chair, Takashi bent over to pick up his bag and his papers, some of which had just been finished in the middle of lecture. Being a man who liked to take action and not leave things for the last minute, Takashi had made it a habit to do work in class and during free periods so he wouldn't have anything pressing on him late at night. After collecting all of his work and sorting it into his bag, he quickly draped the bag over his shoulder and picked his cane up from the ground. Getting the feel for the ground and how much energy he would have to put into walking now, he was proud to see that it was not as bad as it was earlier that day. Perhaps sitting and working brought some extra strength to his legs. Looking at the clock he saw he had time to relax and felt a trip to the library was in order. He knew a lot of other students in his class that went there as well, so it was a good hang out after school. Better than most places surrounding the school.

Finally reaching the library, Takashi gave a quick nod to the quiet librarian that greeted everyone there. Inside he could already hear familiar voices yelling back and forth with a few unfamiliar ones sprinkled in among the whispers as well. There were so many shelves and aisles in the room it was hard to tell exactly who and where everyone was in the dimly lit room. It was hard to imagine that anyone could read well in here when the lights weren't turned on. The window light wasn't very useful and where it was bright, it was often bright enough to make the old paper pages of the books reflect back into your eyes. Definitely a difficult place to work with. Heading down a few aisles, Takashi began searching for something in the mystery section, hoping to stimulate some kind of thought in his mind. A mind at rest was a mind wasted he always thought.

"Now where in the world was that detective story about "The Desert Eye"? I know I saw it in the C section just the other day." Takashi whispered to himself as he continued to walk up the aisle, not noticing an girl in a wheelchair down the other end of the aisle.

Beneath the ruined, shattered sky, the everpresent cracks in reality revealing the fabric of the twenty-one planes of spiritual transcendence, Jay sat on the peak of a long-abandoned castle. The demonic forces of Azzendaer was conquering more land every passing day, hordes of demons ravaging the land, just as they have ravaged the skies. The nations of the humans were united, their legions of swordmasters standing ground, but ultimately losing ground. In a battle of attrition where one side had the power to create more warriors on demand, it was clear that the humanity that Jay pledged to protect was on the losing side of things.

The Metal General, Kaisemorde, was one of the Hamadra clan demons, the snakes renown for blinding speed and flexibility.

Yet, if he was able to kill Kaisemorde, the enemy's morale will drop. Mass produced demons weren't smart, after all. They required a leader, and leaders took more time to create than a footsoldier. One month? Two months? If he won, that was the amount of reprieve that he would be giving humans. And he would not be getting anything in return.

Because he did not deserve to get any compensation, not when he was weighed down by 999 sins.

From afar, on top of the mountains, he could see the massive snake of metal, and the intimidating figure that sat on a spiked throne embedded into the skull of the beast.

No doubt, the demon general could sense his killing intent from ten miles away.

But that was alright. He never wanted to act with subtlety again.

His red eyes flashed, and his demon's heart burned, the impure blood of a tainted soul coursing through his body. His back expanded, the crackling of new-formed bones ripping through his flesh. They expanded into skeletal wings as night-blue feathers grew on them. Finally, at three times the length of his body, Jay's wings expanded, and he jumped off the building, hands clasped in a prayer that a demon did not deserve.

“In this moment of Eternity,
I of demon's heart and angel's tears beseech thee.
Permit me to smite evil in Heaven's stead.
For only in the darkness can a monster's sin be judged.
Heed my call,
Immaculate Blade of Black Heavens,
Exizanar-Hier!”

A bird became an arrow as it cut through the broken skies, ready to pierce the soul of the Sower of Corruption.

Then, Jay Lowell, known officially as Haruto Mizuki, woke up. Brushing aside the light novel that had shielded his eyes from the orange rays of the afternoon sun, the raven-haired narcoleptic took in a deep breath, checked his wristwatch, looked around him, and deduced that he must have fallen asleep during the break between his second and third classes, sleeping long enough that he had missed the rest of his classes for the day. Slightly annoying, but he was accustom to it by now. It was only his last class that he cared about, after all. In a world of magic, he needed to expand his knowledge of science. Perhaps then, humanity would finally be able to gain a 'true' advantage over the demons of Azzendaer. The science teacher, Mutou, was teaching the secrets of creation on the smallest scale possible. Molecular bonding. What an absolutely fascinating and powerful area of study. Imagine if a spell was crafted that could immediately sever the bonds between atoms. A mono-atomic blade, capable of cutting through any armor, regardless of how thick it was. No, even more, imagine if humans crafted mono-atomic arrowheads! That would easily quadruple the damage output of the human race, and force the demons to exhaust their magical energies protecting themselves from material attacks.

But first, he needed to get to the classroom. Rolling off the park bench and slapping his light novel into his bag, the boy grinned, brought both hands behind his back to secure the limiter of his demonic powers, the Blessed Ribbon of Thurisaz, and imagined his route. He had already slept moments before, so this time, he shouldn't suffer from a sudden bout of exhaustion that sends him falling flat onto his face like a drunk. And the park was still devoid of students.

“So I can go all out! I call upon your power, Talisman of Aegis! Open up a gate into time, and let me pass into the past!”

He turned his wristwatch's time five minutes back, and then ran back to Yamaku.

It took him exactly five minutes, and Jay fist-pumped triumphantly as he arrived 'just as classes ended'. Reverting his watch back to the proper time, the boy with hair longer than most girls closed his eyes once more, reminded himself that he was in the presence of mortals, and began to ascend the stairs, towards the room of Scientology on the third floor. He twisted elegantly, dodging swaths of people and always allowing the ladies passage through an entryway first, such was his knightly conduct.

Black sparkles of cool elegance were literally flying off him as he waltzed against the tide of humans in the hallways.

And, like any kind, mysterious outlaw demon knight with a grim, dark, tragic, heart-shattering, soul-crushing past, he even stopped by the scene of what appeared to be a three-woman collision in the hallway. Though his instinct told him that it was never a good idea to get into what seemed like a soon-to-be deathmatch, he discarded his life-preservation instincts, choosing the more dangerous route instead.

Anyways, the red-headed giant was one of the classmates whose names he actually remembered, and with a smile, he picked up her cane for her and offered her a hand.

“Afternoon, Kushuda-san. Are you alright? It appears that quite a big akushidento happened here.”

For now, he'll ignore the death auras of the other two girls.

This is bad.

She could feel him outside pacing up and down, his empty right sleeve flapping about as he paced the halls. Tch, Student Council members are annoying. She had just bought a fresh pack too.

Junko tapped her prosthetic leg on the floor, testing it, making sure it was strapped on tightly.

As soon as class was over and the teacher was out of sight, she and the Student Council member dashed off, sprinting as if it was the 100m dash.

"JUNKO! Surrender your bag to me! I know you are carrying banned items in there!"

"Shut up, Mr Hentai Super Ero Pervert! Stop harassing me!"

"My name's Kisaragi!"

She dashed past several students, past that tall red-head in her class, that short black hair person, and Mr Invincible Warrior helping up the red head, then past a bend to the stairs. Instead of going down the stairs however, she immediately pressed herself to the wall near the corner, remaining silent as Kisaragi blasted past her and down the stairs.

"Heh."

---

She took a deep pull at the stub, and exhaled, puffing out a billow of smoke. Junko was trying to make a smoke ring, but that was a bit hard to do in the breeze.

It was so peaceful up here on the roof. The breeze and the vista it offered never failed to grant her a sense of peace. That and it was always a good place for a smoke. She made sure not to leave any litter about however, for both personal and hygienic purposes. This place made her forget, at least for the moment, about her friends and her old life back in her hometown.

"Wonder how the Blue Falcon is faring nowadays?"

She took one last cigarette from the box and pulled up a loose brick near the piping, revealing her secret stash of things, mostly snacks and a few packs of cigarettes.

What worries her most however was the papers and assignments. Maybe she can copy Sakura's homework, or perhaps Sayuri. Invincible Warrior Man would do in a pinch, but then she had to listen to how he defeated the demon of Tralfagaz's Reach with only a broken sword and a bottle of mana.

Sayuri scanned the title of each book as she rolled slowly past, looking for something that would catch her eye. The shelves were much taller then her and she was sitting, so she was really only able to see a fraction of the books. This seemed like an oversight by the school, she thought idly to herself. She thought they would've put more thought into the high of the bookshelves, considering many students might have trouble reaching the higher levels.

Sayuri wasn't too bothered by it though, and she almost always was able to find something interesting to read within her reach. She stopped her chair when her eyes came to rest on one such book. She didn't know exactly what made her stop at this one over all the others, but she was rarely disappointed when she followed these little flights of intuition. She reached up a shaking hand, having to force her weakening muscles to obey her, and slid the book out from it's place in the shelf and onto her lap. Moving her arms had started to get a little harder lately, as if her muscles were constantly asleep, but at least she could still move her fingers for the most part, aside from those brief times that they just completely refused to move as she wanted.

Sayuri looked down at the cover of the book she had chosen. She didn't recognise the author, though the title was interesting. "The Desert Eye..." She mumbled as she turned the book over and read the blurb on the back. Apparently it was one of those detective novels, part of a series perhaps? She turned it back over and looked down at the cover once more, as it sat on her lap. She was thinking about where to go and read. The weather outside was nice, sunny with a scattering of light clouds. Some sunlight would be nice, though the Library itself was also nice and quiet right now, so maybe she could find a place near a window.

Having scanned the shelves for what felt like too long for a simple book, Takashi finally decided to just accept that the book was not where it needed to be. Much like other things that the boy needed at the school. Is the calculator in the closet? No, it just so happens to be placed somewhere along the back shelves of the room. Is the pencil box filled with pencils? It just so happens that they decided to be placed in a cup on the professor's desk. Absolute annoyances all the way around. And yet when he brought up the constant lack of organization, people always called him out as some kind of perfectionist. Perfection and convenience are two very different things, but clearly not in the eyes of judgement. Just thinking about it all gave the boy a headache he felt not even the most powerful medication would be able to fix.

Eventually finding the first entry in the series he was trying to read he pulled it off the shelf and began looking it over. It seemed like more dust had collected in it when compared to other books in the library. This place was frequented often by students just looking the pass the time. A close second was the fields for playing team sports such as soccer and after that was the random fields of grass between some of the major buildings. People would set out blankets and enjoy a nice little meal every once and a while out there to enjoy the sun. Takashi tried it himself, but found it embarrassing when he could barely pick himself up afterwards. He hated looking so damn weak out there among the eyes of his classmates. Even though they all shared some kind of disability, it wasn't pleasant when everyone could see you struggle with yours.

Shaking his head he skimmed through the book again and noticed a few of his previously made flaps to the pages. Apparently the reason the book was so dusty was that he was the last one to touch the thing, and that must have been at the very least two months ago. The whole plot to the book was a middle aged man and his son finding themselves called upon to find old relics that had been stolen for monetary value. Trailing the thieves with clues and leads they eventually found the culprits at the end of each story, with the son doing the usual heroic deeds of fighting off enemies while the father took care of puzzles or riddles they needed solved. A true muscle and brains kind of duo. It was old serial stuff, but Takashi loved it so.

Placing the book under his arm he placed his weight down on the can in his right hand. It seemed that standing for so long looking had made his legs a little sore again. He was forced to put the weight on his toes and walk like a crane. A crane with literally no finesse as it would be. Turning his head down the aisle he noticed a familiar wheel chair and blue hair. The boy smiled as he began heading over to her. "Well well Sayuri. I should have guessed you would be down here today." He said as he eventually came to a stop near her. He always kept a bit of distance between himself and anyone in a chair, just because you never knew when the device would get a mind of its own. Gravity was always tricky, and momentum a deceitful mistress. "I hope the elevator wasn't crushing you like it did last week. Honestly, you'd think the acceptance rate at this school wouldn't be so dramatic." Takashi said with a laugh as he placed an arm on a shelf next to him, trying to take as much weight off his legs as possible that way he wouldn't begin feeling the usual strain that came later in the day.

Briskly shaking her head, she attempted to shak off all the thoughts that weren't really relevant at the moment, focusing on the here and now for once, or at least attempting to do so. It dawned on her after a while that she hadn't barreled into just one person, but two people, which exlpained why she had toppled easily despite seemingly being a lot taller than both of them. As far as weight went though, she was probably in the same category, if not even less. It might have been worse if she had been the only person left standing, as she recalled from before she became tall how tall people used to like bullying those smaller than them. It hadn't felt as hard to her at first, but that might have been because her thoughts and senses had been at a completely different location to actually register the impact of the collision properly. Her rear was seriously starting to hurt now, and she noted how most of her things had scattered across the hallway, possibly mixed wth the items of the others. To their possibe irritation, she averted her attention from the two girls she had slammed into, making sure that nothing she had previously been carrying had magically vanished one way or the other. It didn't seem like that much of an unlikely thing to happen.

Finally, her attention drifted back towards the less than pleased pair of people. In her mind's eye,the two of them looked a lot older and more experienced than her, remembering from her years in middle school what it had meant to disrespect one of your elders. She had never really been the target of bullying, but had seen it happen before, and it was usually the older that picked on the younger and smaller. Despite the fact that she fit into neither of these categories anymore, her mind had not progressed beyond the idea of being a relatively new person in highschol, which bumped her back to the bottom of the ladder.

While her mind was processing all of these things, she remained on the ground a lot longer than the others, having given them the time to rise up and tower over her, which only brought the impression that she was actually the smaller, younger one home. Unfortunately for her, neither of them seemed to be very understanding. The girl with black hair adopted an agressive stance, her fists clenched which briefly made Sakura shift herself backwards, almost tossing up her arms in defense out of fear from an incoming punch to her face while she was still down on the ground. She had had only brief interactions with her, the voice in her mind reminded her that this one's name had something to do with a colour, yet in her current confused state she didn't really remember it, instead taking a gamble to her name. "I'm sorry Crimson, I don't have a problem... welI I have a few, but none with- I didn't mean to-..." She stammered hurriedly.

Before she could finish her sentence, the other one she had bashed into rose as well. While Scarlett had given off an instant and very clear aggressive tone, the other one almost made her skin crawl. The word "Die." rung in her head, did she actually mean for her to die? Surely she couldn't, ... could she? The posion oozing from her voice was enough to make her believe that if words could kill, she'd be ended right then and there. The name of this girl was stored somewhere in her memory as well, but as much as she wanted to remember, she just couldn't completely recall it. Even if she had, at the moment she probably wasn't able to maje use of it it all right now. The malice and contempt in her voice were enough to petrify her for a few seconds as she stared back at her with two wide eyes, resembling those of a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.

The way things were looking right now, she was going to face fate as a deer exactly. Though instead of a truck hitting her, it might be the furious fists or insults of these girls. If it had been only oneof these two, she might have been able to handle them in a diplomatic manner, but with two glaring down at her with such contempt, her mind jammed each time she worked up something to say. What might calm down one person could enrage the other, and vice versa. Her gaze flicked back in between the two, unable to keep their glare for longer than a split second, only to be met by the glare of the other one the moment she tore her gaze away.

Thankfully, her cane hovered out of view into a fourth person's hand, whose other hand was thrust out towards her to help her up, as she still hadn't been able to pick herself up. With the tiniest of nods, she carefully slid her hand into his, the weak grip of her slender, long fingers not being of much a help to get herself up. With more than just a little bit of quivering protest, her legs stumbled back up as well, not used to getting up like this, let alone with suc huge, clumsy limbs that didn't seem all that inclined to cooperate with her as well as she'd have liked. It was only when she towered back out over the two that had risen before her that she remembered herself who the tallest, and possibly even oldest one around here was, boosting her self confidence. She murmured a quick "Thank you... Mizuki-san." towards her saviour, whose identity was easier to place. His antics were pretty infamous, in the school already from the brief time she had spent here.

Taking a precautionary step backwards, she dipped her head forwards, bending nearly likea rigid plank towards the two as she bowed before them. Her height didn't help here though, in her bowed position she was about the same height as them, rather than actually being lower than them. Had she gone lower tohugh, she couldn't trust herself to keep standing upright, out of danger of toppling over once more. Balance always was a thing that people took for granted until it was absent. Perhaps with the little demonstration of how frail balance was, the two girls might agree, but they were more likely to blame it on her instead as it seemed. There were no illusions in her mind that they might be able to imagine how clumsy and hard to control such a tall body really was.
"I'm terribly sorry, I meant no harm. Honest."
She apologised more to the ground than the actual people, her eyes briefly flicking past the fringes of her hair dangling in front of her face as she stood bent over in a rather clumsy, if not even mockingly-looking bow. Grace evidently was something that had not yet manifested in her.

She recognized the girl. Sakura. Kushuda Sakura. It's hard not to notice her. In fact, she's probably one of the most outstanding people in the school. Not only is she tall beyond the norm, but, perhaps more importantly, her distinct red hair, drew attention-perhaps more so then she realized. Mizuki noticed that the girl is pretty air headed, and often unaware of her surroundings. Like she's living in a dream or something. This trait of hers, Aizawa Mizuki didn't like in particular. She was never fond of people who don't care about their self-image (and, in the past, did not hesitate to demonstrate to them exactly how important it is to be mindful of one's own surroundings) and would absolutely love to stage one such demonstration right now, if she had her friends and wasn't half paralyzed, herself.

But unfortunately, she was, and nothing could have been done about it. While thinking of what next to say, without embarrassing herself while doing so, a long-haired boy who seemed vaguely familiar came to Sakura's rescue, making the situation that much more awkward. She's the offender, why is she getting helped?, yet voicing this sort of complaint would be pretty much useless. As much as she despised the girl, there was literally no way she could retaliate. She'll be forced to move on and pretend nothing happened. The red hair's oh-so-sincere apologies didn't make it easier to tell her anything bad, either. In the end, nothing did happen, indeed. The only thing hurt was, ultimately, her pride. She decided to drop it, and leave the scene before she says or does something she'd regret. Even though it's been quite a while since the accident, sometimes, she still tends to forget that she's disabled now and, therefore, in no position to look down or talk back to normal, healthy people (like these two appeared to be). Or rather, normal disabled people aren't, for Mizuki often considered herself naturally above the rest, even if slightly.

Shifting her attention from Sakura, she noticed that the entire incident had one additional victim. A taller girl with distinct, black hair(that she suspected were either fake, dyed, stolen, or all these things combined. There is absolutely no way these hair were real, no doubt about that. For one, Mizuki's own hair, which she used to care for dearly, could never reach such a brilliant hue, and therefore, no other hair were permitted, either). The girl wasn't satisfied with the entire incident either, and they could have easily teamed up on apologetic Sakura together, if not for the intervention of that cursed long haired boy, to whom she now directed her attention.

She was a little surprised when he was addressed with the same name as hers, though quickly regained her composure, realizing it's a surname in his case. Coincidences happen. That being noted, he looked pretty out of it himself. She wondered what his disability was. While Mizuki was pretty certain that Sakura had a hopeless case of gigantism, the boy looked perfectly healthy. Even handsome, except that she wasn't into guys with excessively long hair and messy clothes. She hated people with messy clothes, how hard is it to take care of one's attire anyway(never mind that she too didn't pay much attention to her exterior, lately)? Frowning on him for a little bit longer then a moment, she turned to the red haired girl and decided it's time to make a step back. Without looking her in the eye, she turned away with a clear "Never mind", indicating she's not very much interested in further conversation. Leave the messy freaks to their messy ways. She'll find a way to have revenge on some other occasion, no doubt.

Sayuri looked up from he book on her lap, drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of a voice. Takashi Midiara, a classmate and fellow bibliophile was standing in front of her. She smiled up at him from her chair. "Ah Midiara-kun, a pleasure to see you. Actually today the elevator was almost deserted. I guess people are getting sick of having their toes run over." She said joking, she always made a point to avoid getting people's feet stuck under her wheels, though accidents did happen from time to time.

Sayuri wouldn't go so far as to say that She and Takashi were friends, but he was one of the few people in her class that she'd had more than simple fleeting conversations with, in fact some hadn't even said one word to her yet. Still she held some fondness for him, even if he had a habit of keeping his distance, and she didn't mean physically. She had noticed an apathy in him at times that could make him seem distant.

The girl pulled herself out of her thoughts and glanced at the book Takashi held. It was dusty but still held the worn appearance of being well read and she recognised the author's name. "Oh, it looks like we've picked up books from the same writer today, Midiara-kun." She tapped her long fingers on the book sitting on her lap as she moved her chair alongside him so he could see the cover. "Is their work any good?" She asked, looking up at him.

Takashi laughed as Sayuri mentioned the running over of toes. It had become a bit of a complaint it seemed among students who had good working legs or had a trot without a limp at the amount of times they would be hurt by chairs and canes. The amount of times that students would go to him with complaints about how is cane at time would slip into people's walking paths was hilarious to the young man. Not that he enjoyed hindering others, but that such a simple little tool could cause such a large headache among those around him.

Sayuri was always one quick with a joke. Then again, perhaps Takashi thought that simply due to the lack of real conversation that the two had over the course of their scholastic careers. Most of the time it was a simple passing discussion about the weather or how they each fared on a test they had just completed for one of their courses. And the few occasions that there was a deep conversation it always seemed to be forced and immediately replaced with something that was a bit simpler and quicker. Albeit more often than not Takashi was responsible for pushing the discussion to an end.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy conversation, it was more just due to the fact that speaking about personal problems and his past didn't seem like a proper thing to discuss with someone in public. The two never had an alone conversation as it was always in a public place with constant traffic surrounding them at times. Then again, when you live in a school like Yamaku the ability to be alone was almost impossible unless you rented out a room for a private meeting. Hardly anyone he knew did something as childish and juvenile as that.

Turning his attention back to the girl in front of him, he noticed she had moved to his side. She mentioned that the authors were the same. Looking up at him, he looked down at the book in her lap and read out the cover. Sights on the Desert Eye. Takashi showed a smile on his face as he pointed to the book. “I'll be, that was actually a book I was looking for myself. It's the third of the series actually.” The boy explained as he moved the book in his hands to hold it from the spine, showing the cover of the literary piece he held.

On it was a small drawing of the two main characters, the father and his son running towards the viewer with what appeared to be a stone carving under the younger man's arms. The title read out History Lost in Stone. Takashi turned it to his face and gave a chuckle. “I personally love this series with all the puzzles and tricks that the two heroes have to over come. It has some obligatory nuances like action and romance at times, but all of it isn't just thrown in there for the sake of it.” He said as he pulled it back under his arm and readjusted himself on the shelf he was leaning on. “It's a good read for those looking for a bit of a mystery with a side of brain teasers here and there.” Takashi explained with a small smile on his face.

Ahhh, molecular bonding and the forces that made it possible. Normally, he wouldn't be as interested. Chemistry was not his forte, physics was. But the inclusion of inter-atomic forces made Isamu interested enough. Atoms and molecules made up literally everything observable in existence, be they antimatter or the garden-variety stuff you see every day. He appreciated the science of molecular bonds. As two wise astrophysicists had said: "We are all connected: to each other biologically, to the Earth chemically, and to the rest of the Universe atomically." (Neil Degrasse Tyson) and "The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it, but the way those atoms are put together." (Carl Sagan)

He could go on for an hour about atoms, the connections they made and how important they were. But now he had homework and a paper about ions. Being the over-achiever he was with science, Isamu had thrown a few bits about plasma into his paper. Nothing they'd learned in class, just research he'd done independently. He was so extremely fond of Mutou. So extremely fond that he wouldn't even be surprised if somebody...got the wrong idea about their relationship. It had happened once before at Yamaku, and there was nobody to blame but Isamu. He was so enthusiastic about science and making friends that he often crossed boundaries few others would dare to cross with teachers. Usually, nothing came of it, but when he hugged one teacher, he earned himself a good thirty-minute lecture on appropriate conduct between teachers and students.

Following the hordes of students out of class, Isamu made sure not to bump into anybody. If there was a single student at Yamaku who was extremely careful about the conditions of others, it was Tanaka Isamu. Part of it came from the fact that this was his fourth year here. Part of it came from the fact that a classmate had nearly died two years ago after a run-in with a careless hall-walker. But really, it mainly came from his heightened sense of friendliness and empathy because he never had real friendship growing up. So when a distinctly noticeable girl with distinctly noticeable hair crashed into another of his classmates, Tanaka was the... SECOND to spring into action?! Never mind, it was just Haruto. Of all people, he was the other one you'd likely find at the scene of an incident like this, offering a hand.

Sighing to himself at his, Isamu approached the retreating party of the crash, the one who had a cane securely strapped to her arm, keeping a good half-meter of distance between them. "Hey, are you alright? That looked like a pretty rough fall there. I hate to see anybody get hurt because of stuff like that." Reaching behind his body and scratching the back of his head, he looked at the obvious offender. "I take it she wasn't looking where she was going? From what I saw, she seems pretty clumsy in general. Hm...maybe she has some sort of...brain disorder that messes with her balance? No...that would be a mental condition." Noticing that he was thinking the last bit out loud, he made a dismissing motion with his hand. "Ignore that last bit, just...just thinking out loud. I do that sometimes."

That girl really was freakishly tall, wasn't she? As he pulled the skinny girl up, Jay was painfully aware of the height difference between the two, with the red head easily standing a head above him. Sorta awkward, but then again, who cares? It was the duty of a Knight of Wings to assist a fallen Valkyrie, after all, even when his own wings were dyed in tar and blood, weighed down equally by sin and atonement. Offering her cane like one would with a sword, Jay said in reponse to her gratitude, “My wings are yours, Valkyrie of Sunfire. It's only natural.”

As she went through the typical apologies to the individuals involved, instead of simply smiting the plebians with heavenwrath, slaying them for their lese majeste like any normal noble would, the boy took that chance as one to take a look at the other one that was involved in the incident. A lady with long, well-kept hair, if not as long or ruggedly wild as his own was. Her face looked a little stiff, almost like that of a mask, which made Jay narrow his red eyes slightly. A human from the outside, perhaps, but Azzendaer wasn't a fool. He was capable of molding demons in the shape of humans. So, would it be possible that his influence has even reached this sanctuary now? Before Jay could use his Seer's Eye of Mindmaster though, the Yamato Nadeshiko turned around, broke contact, and left. A connection could not be established, and he made an almost inaudible 'tsk'. He'd have to remember her face for now. At the moment, his duty chained him by the side of Kushuda Sakura.

After all, considering the whole situation, she was pretty much obligated to do him a favor now. An impure, ulterior motive, really. But demons aren't angels, and ultimately, that was how it was.

Smiling, he then asked, “By the way, Kushuda-san, did you take notes during class today? Mind if I take a look at them? I had to miss out on afternoon class because of battle preparations against Kaisemorde.”

Yeah, if he remembered correctly, she was actually smart, so hopefully she did what he couldn't.

Just as she was about to leave the site, a new person approached her. Another boy. For a change, this one had much, much shorter hair then the other one. He too, looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall his name or disability. Not that it mattered. His words of compassion made her sort of angry. She didn't like to be pitied, it was humiliating. He seemed to have good intentions, but for Mizuki, it was like twisting a knife in her wound. However, again, there was little she could do, other then dismissing him and retreating somewhere far away. Right as she was about to say something cold to him, he scratched the back of his head in a silly motion, and she noticed that there is something wrong with his hands. Now she wasn't in the mood to talk, and just as she was about to dismiss him,he she noticed that his hands are weird. Upon closer inspection, Mizuki realized that he has only three fingers. She glanced at her dysfunctional right hand. She had all five, but only two were functional. Does that mean she has it worse?

No..wait a minute..wait a minute. Since when did her jealousy of those, who are healthy and well turned into a jealousy of anyone and everyone who is at least slightly less dysfunctional then herself? However, before that doubtlessly revolutionary observation could settle in her brain, she found herself chuckling at his notion of Sakura having a brain disorder, and utterly forgot what she was thinking about just a moment ago. A treacherous giggle! Knowing that it was too late to play it cold now, she decided to carry on with the conversation.

"Haha, you don't need to apologize for that. I also think that some students here have more then just physical problems". Naturally, she was excluded from that list. For a moment she was tempted to go on in that direction and share with him some of her other ideas regarding the red-haired girl, but in the end, decided against it and changed topic a little bit. "I'm Aizawa Mizuki..I think we're classmates." Yes..she as certain they were in the same class. Won't hurt to ask his name.

"I'm sorry", she said, exaggerating the "sorry" on purpose, "but I've only transfered a few weeks ago, having spend some time in the hospital, and I don't remember everyone's name yet. You are..?"

Taking a leisurely pace, she walked down the flight of stairs, feeling a better now that she had a smoke. There was no hesitation or deliberation in her steps, not after all the time she had spent using the prosthetic feet. True she still stumbled or fell down from time to time, but at least she wasn't too conscious about her legs now. Except maybe how fat she would look in certain jeans.

Rummaging about in her bag, she pulled out a box of Pocky, and pulled out a few sticks of it.

"Mind if I take a look at them? I had to miss out on afternoon class because of battle preparations against Kaisemorde.”

*crunch*

Junko looked blank for a moment, crunching on the Pocky stick. That was the first thing she heard when she came down the stairs, and the first thing she saw was Invincible Warrior and Sakura together. It wasn't that hard to connect in her mind, two person standing close, and Invincible Man wanted to see those. Boys will be boys.

"Yo, I wasn't interrupting anything, am I?" Junko pulled out another Pocky stick and put it in her mouth and mumbled "...sheesh, people sure are brazen flirting about in the open..."

An interesting development; she never knew Warrior Boy had it in him to snag a girl like Sakura of all people. And on the same note, Sakura sure had bad taste in men. Not that she, Junko, knew anything about love. Maybe companionship; she had plenty of those in the Blue Falcon, but definitely not love. She did know love made one of the Blue Falcon jump from a fourth floor window into a pool to impress his girl, but it maybe all those coffee and beer he snarfed earlier.

"Ah, that's right! Sakura, help me with the exercises again, please? I didn't quite understand what the teacher said." That was true, but she failed to mention she was mostly daydreaming in Mutou's lecture.

She giggled at his mention of Sakura's possible mental illness. She...really didn't like that girl, did she? Or was she laughing at his mental digression, waving it off like he had? It could be either, but he assumed it was the latter, since she told him not to apologize for it, sharing her musings that some of the students here had more than physical issues. It was certainly true, especially in Isamu's case. He think some therapist told him he had an issue with imprinting on people, and he was inclined to believe that idea. After all, he had done something like that in the past with people, becoming heavily attached to people he barely knew. It was just another part of the reason he tried to make friends with a lot of people: the more he got used to dealing with people, the less heavily attached he'd get to people he'd just met.

Aizawa Mizuki, the girl introduced herself as. Huh...Mizuki? Weeeiiirrrddd, man, just like Haruto...or should he call him Jay? Oh well, not worth dwelling on. Were they classmates? Yes, yes they were. He couldn't possibly forget that cane or the braces. It was kind of terrible, but sometimes he made a note of the more...obviously disabled students. Some people needed an extra wide berth, some needed assistance with certain parts of their lives. He'd known a few people missing whole chunks of their bodies that occasionally needed help with their prosthetics, if they had them. For some, it might have been a sad sight. For Isamu, it was heartwarming and inspiring to see people overcoming despite adversity. And that was precisely what this girl in front of him was doing. Every step must have been tough for her, but she fought on like a real warrior. If that Haruto respected anybody, it should be her. Not the...Midgard Lobster, as he'd been referred to.

Sighing quietly as he digressed again, Isamu looked back at Mizuki and bowed his head gently. "Tanaka Isamu. Ectrodactyly. Lobster claw syndrome, as some might call it." It was...usual for him to greet himself this way. His condition was obvious, and he couldn't just let it sit in the air. He was strange. His hands had less fingers. It wasn't really a big deal, but it could cause a few issues. As a matter of fact, his feet looked similar, but he'd never really had the problem of people noticing at Yamaku, and he didn't go out of his way to make anybody see it.

Smiling politely, he gently brought his hands together. "And please don't feel compelled to discuss your own situation. I understand many don't like bringing it up, especially if it's recent. I just prefer the direct approach to addressing my...extremely noticeable condition." Moving his hand back to rub his head again, he changed the topic yet again, in case Mizuki didn't want to bring it up. "How are you doing on that ions paper? Mine's progressing pretty well, but I can understand that some are just dreading it. Ions can get pretty weird, especially when it comes to plasma physics and the likes. Trying to remember that positive charges mean there are less electrons can really trip some people up, and vice versa. And when you get off-world, all bets are off. Astrophysics and plasma just gets crazy, especially with nebulae." Aaaand, there he went ranting about physics and space. It was a wonder he ever made friends...

The sudden commotion that started after a simple fall seemed to attract the attention of everyone in the entire hall. From ever corner there were boys and girls trying to be a hero, butting their noses in and hobbling around trying to get involved in somebody else's business. Rather than stand there and stare at the rabble of school kids who now are all staring blankly in a trance and all blabbing to each other, Scarlett picks up her books and slips away.

Fucking idiots! She mutters under her breath.

She takes one look back at the group that she saw no more as a bunch of Chickens with their feathers rustled, now all flapping around and clucking to each other wildly. It was easy for her to look down on them, even if they were more handicapped than herself. This helped her to come to terms with her stay at Yamaku. A dark smirk grew on her face as she joyously skipped down the staircase, sometimes jumping two steps at a time. "Bet those losers upstairs couldn't do this!" These words she kept in the back of her mind, not a syllable expressing to whoever she passed on the ground floor.

Walking onto the plush greenery of the Grounds seemed to lighten her mood. She finds herself thinking back to the red haired girl that she ran into, the word Crimson comes to mind. It was probably what the girl had said to her back in the hallway, but she just brushed it off. "It was lucky those bitches didn't take the wind out of me"

The day grew longer, and soon it was dusk. She lost track of time. Having a less than enjoyable day, not even the Piano could lighten her mood. Instead, she makes her way to the Infirmary. Maybe staring at those worse off than her would fill her with enough Schadenfreude that she could relax for the evening.

Not even someone as cloudy minded as Sakura failed to spot how little her apologis had actually done to truly convey her feelings of regret and guillt. Neither of the two girls thatshe had slammed into actually seemed convinced that anthing she said actually had much meaning, perhaps they were even genuinely of the opinion that she had done all of this un purpose, just because she was taller and wanted to see other, smaller students tumbleand fall on the floor, which was the opposite of what she wanted. Even so, it was lucky that nobody from the teaching staff or even the student council had seen the collision. Even if it was an accident, she'd have no doubt have gotten a lengthy lecture on caution and being considerate of her fellow students. More so than other scools, Yamaku had a strict "no running in the hallways"-policy to avoid collisions just like the one she had just caused. Considering all of he different disabilites, this wasn't much of a surprise. While Sakura could definitely say she'd probably have more than a few bruises on several places, there were those who were a lot more frail and vulerable at Yamaku, who might not have been able to get out of a smack like that unscathed.

On the plus side, the small crowd that had gathered to look at the sight had at least saved Sakura from any possible insults or even phsical violence. The negative side however, was that now everyone was staring at her like she was the instigator of an actual fight, some even muttered how inconsiderate she was for not looking where she was going. While the entire tumble might have looked hilarious and had drawn many eyes, there was little to no doubt that most eyes had been directed in Sakura's direction, her tall figure making her visible even for those near the back , as she stood out like a beacon. While she wasn't completely people shy, standing in the centre of the atention like this, and especially not in a situation like this.

Slumping her shoulders timidly, she turned back towards Mizuki as the other two left, with them, the small crowd of curious students that had formed around them slowly began to dwindle as well, enabling Sakura to refocus her mind into gear and process what Mizuki had said. Words rolled off of his tongue like a waterfall, but only half of them actually made complete sense. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but to be mesmerised by Mizuki. While her love for fantasy and splendid tales made her wishs he was actually part of a word like in her imagination, he was actually living in his own as she had understood from the fragments she caught from his speaches. She knew that everal students pitied and sniggered at him, or were even annoyed by his behaviour, but Sakura was the opposite. She admired him and his ability to release his mind into the world of his imagination.

Just as she was opening her mouth she was adressed by Junko, whose behaviour was also infamous in the school. Before she knew it, she realised that she was caught in the middle of two of what might be the most known students in the school. Not because they were especially popular, but because of their loud, disorderly conduct. Nevertheless, it'd be rude of her to just wander off after Mizuki had helped her up and collected her cane for her, nor would it be proper to reject the request for aid. Mutou kept hammering on a good cooperation between the students, which she couldn't really deny its benefits of either.

"I'm sure I can help both of you out... I made few notes beforehand and I'm fairly sure I understand the exercices." She spoke to the par of them with a slightly tentative smile, trying her best not to sound too smart out of fear that they might find her arrogant. "I was on my way to the library, we could head over there?" Her question was rather unnecessary, with all the desks designed for studying, it was the obvious choice for her. The thought that these two might disturb the silent atmosphere of he library hadn't even crossed her mind yet.

With club activities starting, the library was luckily fairly devoid of much students, and Sakura ws able to find a relatively secluded desk large enough for the three of them had they decided to follow her through the hallways. This time, she had kept her head high and her eyes open as wide as possible, staring dead ahead with as much oncentration as possible, scarcely saying a single word on the way to not interrupt her concentration of not bumping into someone once again. Given her height, this might have been a rater intimidating sight, almost as if she set out to war with the determined look on her face.

Once in the library however, her expression took on a more normal, timid look once more, behind the desk and pulling out her notebooks and exercises. The notebook she handed to Mizuki, where probably less than he had hoped notes were written down, yet her handriting was neat and to the point. He might notice that the majority of the ink in the notebook had not been spent into notes, but rather into very clunky looking, clumsy drawings of a large variety of subjects, as much as he might be able to make them out. Several of her classmates she had drawn as well, though very few accurately resembled their real life counterparts. There was even a very oddly drawn character that resembled Mizuki near the back, where she had attempted to draw him as he had described himself, battling a black figure that was supposedly a demon, but failed rather miserably. "Here, let me know if it's unclear or you can't read it." She said, handing the notebook to him, forgetting that she had actually drawn all of that.

While she let Mizuki handle her notebook, she shifted her attention to Junko, flapping over the exercises. Most, of not all of them looked easy to her. Several of them were simply counting out how much energy it took for certain bonds to break, how much energy would be released if they broke and if this made the chemical reactions exothermic or endothermic. The last few of the exercises were just a little harder, for each atom in the example one had to make write down the exact atomic configurations, placing each elektron into the right atomic orbital. "Uhm-... " Sakura stared at Junko blankly with a slow blink, unsure where she had to start explaining since she couldn't exactly know how she wouldn't understand the exercise yet. This would be her first time actually tutoring to other people.