Naito looked over the papers, before heading into the back to grab what was needed.
Her father, meanwhile, turned to Akiko.
"No, thank you. I think she is...tolerable with her learning at the moment."
Naito came back with the packages, handing them to Akiko. She smiled at the girl.
Akiko then produced another roll from the other cup of her bra.
"Can I borrow your daughter then? I'm planning on taking the older and younger kids to the forest to cool off upstream. If there's anything you want, I'll bring something back for you..."
Right as Naito came flying downstairs, Akiko (or as most knew the young lady, Satoshi) came walking right in. Her muddied boots, thankfully, were deposited by the doorway for the fifth day in a row now; compared to most weeks, this was a large success on Akiko's part for etiquette.
"Ohayo-u!" Akiko chimed as she made a very slight, quick bow, before fumbling with her bra (which was thankfully under a pair of tanks). After some struggle, she managed to procure a list and roll of bills to pay for the matcha and adzuki beans; the former was per her mother's request during the hot days, and the latter was a component of making a nice shaved-ice snack she usually shared with the other kids.
Despite her brackish scent that told the two of her morning job, it was a surprise that today, neither sweat nor brine managed to stain the ink of the pen. Not that there was any need to decipher the chicken-scratch writing; the order, unless it was a holiday, was almost always the same.
"The usual, please," Akiko chimed, before handing the wads of paper to Naito.
"Obshika-san," Akiko started as she waited for her packages, "does your daughter need any more tutoring?"
Aria shyly looked down. "I...don't have my laptop charged..." and fumbled a bit with her bag. She pulled out a pen and quietly drew on her hand. There were too many people near her and she was shutting down.
Yosef rolled his eyes at Neven, for sure, but a sidelong glance towards Bessie appeared for a brief moment too...before he turned to Aria.
"...um...well, you know where to find us. Bessie will be at the lobby, I will be...actually, I haven't the faintest clue as to what to do next. I'll probably with Bessie and...are you drawing something?"
Yosef paced a little closer, and stood on his tippy-toes to observe what Aria was trying to draw.
Yosef was definitely frowning now, but indulged the student his name with just as dreary a tone as the instigator of the conversation.
"Yosef."
His expression softened as he turned back to the two other students, and glanced down the hall towards the lobby. After moistening his lips and pursing them, he simply nodded.
"I did. The classes certainly did seem...odd, though. If it's a student to each room, then there aren't many pupils for a class, unless this facility forgoes the usual method of teaching.
...I mean, like public schools and the like. You know...thirty students to a single room, with rotating faculty or students?"
Satoshi was (and still is), as her mother describes her, a rambunctious young boy in the shell of a girl. Ever since she could learn how to walk, she began to run around the house and play with her father's old articles, always planning and dreaming to be the "man" of the house when she was quite obviously otherwise. The usual strictures of gender roles weren't of much use in the pragmatic sense, when each and every person in the village was set to farm for their livelihoods and food, so Satoshi remained as Satoshi, despite the fact that that wasn't her name. As for her father, well...it was safe enough to say he had no means to go back. After Satoshi's mother was impregnated, the father just upped and left for reasons unknown. No checks, no letters, not even a divorce paper was mailed. Nothing. It isn't to Satoshi's surprise, then and now, that she becomes the butt-end of parental jokes, but hey, it's not like she ever liked him in the first place. If her mom says he isn't dead, he isn't. That's all there is to it.
Also, did I forget to mention she runs a pretty neat rice field separate from her mother's? At school, she learned about adding prawn culture to the ricefields, and since her family is right next to the river...well, one thing came to another and soon, she was picking up textbooks on the Vietnamese. The end result was a working rice-field that flourished with prawns during the late summer (spawning had to happen by the first thaw of spring, otherwise it would've been too cold for the shrimp), effectively bringing loads of money and yummy snacks to the table. As part of her appreciation for the Vietnamese, she's started to work on her own set of "Ao Dai" (pronounced Ao Yai). And yes, she knows what happened during WWII. The past remains in the past, blegh, blah blah blah.
Satoshi was (and still is), as her mother describes her, a rambunctious young boy in the shell of a girl. Ever since she could learn how to walk, she began to run around the house and play with her father's old articles, always planning and dreaming to be the "man" of the house when she was quite obviously otherwise. The usual strictures of gender roles weren't of much use in the pragmatic sense, when each and every person in the village was set to farm for their livelihoods and food, so Satoshi remained as Satoshi, despite the fact that that wasn't her name. As for her father, well...it was safe enough to say he had no means to go back. After Satoshi's mother was impregnated, the father just upped and left for reasons unknown. No checks, no letters, not even a divorce paper was mailed. Nothing. It isn't to Satoshi's surprise, then and now, that she becomes the butt-end of parental jokes, but hey, it's not like she ever liked him in the first place. If her mom says he isn't dead, he isn't. That's all there is to it.
Also, did I forget to mention she runs a pretty neat rice field separate from her mother's? At school, she learned about adding prawn culture to the ricefields, and since her family is right next to the river...well, one thing came to another and soon, she was picking up textbooks on the Vietnamese. The end result was a working rice-field that flourished with prawns during the late summer (spawning had to happen by the first thaw of spring, otherwise it would've been too cold for the shrimp), effectively bringing loads of money and yummy snacks to the table. As part of her appreciation for the Vietnamese, she's started to work on her own set of "Ao Dai" (pronounced Ao Yai). And yes, she knows what happened during WWII. The past remains in the past, blegh, blah blah blah.
For a moment, the young man pressed onwards towards the mailboxes, before looking back. His irises, plain as they were, glanced up and down at the both of them, as if he was viewing a piece of fine furniture. Was it normal for women to smile so much? While he was Down There, he spent most of his time pounding subjects into worthless shadows, most of them quite deserving of such punishments.
It was strange, to say the least, to see a smile on a person that wasn't caused by sadism or masochism.
"My name is Yosef; nice to meet you, Bessie. And...you are...?"
The question pointed at Blake. For a brief moment, Yosef's brows twitched into a frown, but be it by force of habit or purpose was left to dubious doubts.
Emmaline, like the bull-headed woman she was born and raised to be, was pushing herself to quite the fascinating limit. Call it big boned or muscles, her exertion was beyond that of many smaller men and women. 2/3s of Emmaline's body weight, or 100 lbs., was compacted into a hollow steel pole similar in size to that of a lance, and by God's ingenuity and the blondie's willpower, Emmaline was in the middle of completing the fifth set of a dozen reps. Sweat trickled out her pores like rivers, pooling at the slightest depression in her cheeks, temples, lips, curves, everywhere.
Truth be told, the weight distribution of her equipment made her lance much lighter, but there was something nagging her. Perhaps it was the fact that there might not always be a medic on the field...or maybe it was the possibility that she needed the strength to load and fire several shells while being perforated like cheese. Or maybe it was the fact that something felt very wrong, but to kill that anxiety, she needed to work it off. Too often was she left alone with nothing to do. Too often did she fidget and became irritable when she had no goal to pursue.
As Bessie exited, she would pass by a young man only slightly taller than she was. Appearance wise, he wasn't very outstanding by complexion or build, nor was his clothing (a button-up blouse and a pair of khaki-dyed trousers) anything special to look at. Dark hair, fair skin, and brown eyes were all he had to go by.
Out of what she could assume politeness, the young man nodded her way and entered the room adjacent to hers.
Within half a minute, he was out of his room again, slipping what must've been his cell-phone into his pocket. At a jog's pace, he caught up to Bessie before slowing down.
"...um...you're heading to get supplies for school right now, or...?"
Back inside his room, his laptop showed an update schedule :
1 - Dancing 2 - Mathematics 3 - Piano 4 - Traditional Art 5 - Fitness 6 - FencingN/A
