Alistair Kemikaru
Mr. Kemikaru silently watched over the class of what he could only suppose were a troublesome bunch. He sighed and stood to speak, just barely a second before Isamu rolled into the room. Soon the young boy would be helped to his feet with a small, meek “thank you” to the young man who’d helped. Not wanting another outburst, Kemikaru cleared his throat and stepped out from behind his desk.
“Thank you for helping our resident latecomer Mr. Watanamiya.” He said as the class quieted down, since their teacher had decided to grace them with his voice (sarcasm ye?). His eyes roamed the room once more though he didn’t take the time to have Rikuo and Isamu return to their seats, or find a seat in the case of Isamu, because he was preparing to have the class move out. “We’ll be heading to the field area of our school. I’ll give you all time to change into your gym uniforms and report to me.” He said sternly.
“F-field area?” Isamu questioned inaudibly as he dreaded the idea that he’d just arrived and already he would be put to some form of exercise. And here he’d though he would have it a little easier now that he’d actually made it to school. Not to mention he was winded after a long run.
“I will explain more in detail what we’ll be doing once you’re all their, though I’m sure some of you may have an inkling of an idea already.” He chuckled softly ignoring the relative fear on young Isamu’s face. “Still, for now, I recommend everyone follow closely and move quickly. There’s only so much time in the day.” He said simply before turning to walk out of the room. From there he would lead the students to the field where he would direct them all to the student locker rooms. Maybe somewhere down the line he would be able to tell them where to go without worry, but for now he would have to take charge. That was the mark of a good homeroom teacher.
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Isamu hadn’t even had time to properly thank and greet the classmate who’d helped him up before Mr. Kemikaru had begun his class. Even so, he might not have been much the conversationalist. He couldn’t help but noticed that just about everyone was a giant in comparison to himself. Not only that, his head was practically still spinning. And yet there they were, following Mr. Kemikaru, at least he was, to the field area where they would likely have a small display of quirks and abilities. How could he hope to match up?
The small boy quivered as Kemikaru directed him and others to the locker rooms. His mind was running a hundred miles per hour. He shook his head as he put on the gym uniform. He took a deep breath. “Don’tFreakOutDon’tFreakOutDon’tFreakOutDon’tFreakOutDon’tFreakOut.” He repeated over and over under his breath. What were they all capable of? How could he match up? He was tiny. How? Isamu was on the verge of freaking out, despite his mantra.