Yankee

Haikyuu - The Art of Sport

I think this could be fun!

Expedition to Isekai

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While he hovered over Bansen, Masato was slowly started to become overwhelmed. Hoshino was in his ear, his voice ragged from shouting and crying. His panic was not helping him explain how he healed people, and because Masato couldn't understand his own frustration was growing. He was about to grab the other boy and shake him to calm down when Stewart came over and knelt beside them. Then threads snaked their way out of Hoshino's skin, thin pink things that stretched over to them. Masato held his breath, unsure what the hell was happening - until they connected.

Suddenly Masato was very aware of a lot of things. He understood Hoshino's warbling because he was feeling what caused it; fear so intense that it spread icy cold tendrils through his heart. He was absolutely dreading the possibility that he could lose someone he loved. Masato practically reeled form the emotions coming through the cable connecting them, making it harder to process the other information filtering over. Information about Hosino Asahi, before and after the crash. A vague memory from the pink haired boy's primary school days, and how he calculated his way through every conversation. How that social manipulation informed the power he displayed now, the facsimile.

Masato jerked his hand away from the threads even as they began to dissolve. He didn't want to pry into Asahi's life, and he definitely didn't want Asahi to pry into his. But now, at least, he understood his classmate's desperation. And his abilities.

Masato took a deep, shaky breath after the strange experience. He glanced at Asahi when he urged the other two to think of something. It was good that he'd calmed down enough to start getting back to his usual self, but now Stewart seemed to be panicking more in his stead.

While the basketball star spoke all his thoughts aloud, Masato fought off a headache on top of the vice around his heart. He willed something like Asahi's Cable to manifest itself from his own hands a few times, but nothing appeared. Dismayed, he looked between his fingers and Sasuke's face.

He wished he had this information hours ago, then he could have... helped more. It was something he thought about from time to time, on the days where he stayed away from home and wandered the night around Kuroshio either with a book in hand or just sitting in silence, alone or rarely with Ichibangase. "If only I could go back and make a different decisions. If only I'd done this differently." He always tried to banish those thoughts when they wormed their way into his head because they did no good. It was impossible to return to a prior point in time. His life was like a really shitty novel, and no matter how many times you reread a book the story, and the ending, didn't change.

Unless.

This was the Otherside, where his classmates were developing literal fucking magic powers. He, too, had that potential. So maybe it was possible to rewrite the events of this story after all? If he could grasp at that fire in his chest and shape it... but could he, given the circumstances? With his own thoughts a mess and two panicking boys on either side of him, his head was pounding.

"Do you have to talk so fucking much while you think?" he said to Stewart, cutting a glance at him. There was a hint of exasperation showing in Masato's tone even through the worry. He could hardly think himself over the other boy's rambling. He probably used up the last of whatever good will Stewart had for him with that comment, but it had to be said. "Just- stop! Stop freaking out, we can... we can figure this out."

The words were for himself as much as they were for Stewart and Asahi. If they thought about everything and worked together, they could probably do it. They could save Sasuke and Endo. Masato wasn't one for working together, preferring to take care of everything himself, but he could at least pretend. He'd borrow some of Asahi's talent at that and draw on his position as council president, focus on rewinding this awful situation... Masato held his hands out again, willing something to happen.

And then the boy next to him, the foreigner, the troublemaker, burst open and spilled his insides all over the place again. What the fuck indeed.

______________________________________________________________________
_{@Vertigo@baraquiel}

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

---

While Fumiko hurried out to get some help (or, perhaps, to escape any further teasing), Sumiko watched her leave and shook her head fondly. She hoped the best for that girl, she really did. Hopefully her crush panned out for her, a new beau just might be able to convince her to relax and have some fun without worrying about her responsibilities for a change.

"Phew~" Sumiko fanned herself with her hand after all of the boxes were packed and piled on the veranda. The cold air cooled her down quickly, and she gathered as many things into her arms as she could carry and set out for the village square where the festivities were to happen. She wasn't concerned about leaving the rest of it where it was on her doorstep - no one in town would mess with it, and if Fumiko returned before she did, the other girl would know where to bring it. If nothing else she could rely on Fumiko keeping her word and returning with the rest of the items.

Her pace was leisurely and she hummed as she walked, peeking out from around her burden to make sure she didn't crash into anyone or anything. There was a warm, happy feeling bubbling up in her chest as the morning wore on that easily chased out the season's lingering chill. She was just so excited to dance again. The festival was her absolute favorite time of year.

She envisioned the scene she would set. First, underneath the kimono she would wear a light robe of pale pink, the collar of which was sure to poke out from beneath the more elaborate garment. The folded silk flower she planned to wear in her hair was of the same color, and secured from the bottom blue and white beads of glass dripped down like melting ice. The earrings she already had on featured the same look, both accessories standing out all the more due to her snow white hair. The final glass piece would be secured to the front of her obi as the obidome, run through by a tight white cord and "melted" by the sunrise on her sleeve. Yes, the kimono itself was the star of this outfit - hand crafted for this festival a few years ago by Heiseina's very own half priestess, half seamstress to invoke the awakening of Miorochi. The backdrop was practically brand new - it was what she'd been inspired to repaint, so it would be a fresh look for the familiar performance. Bright colors forming a rainbow of sunlight clawing its way over the horizon, staining the snow with signs of spring. At its edges, vibrant plant life curled into the scenery.

The dance itself was one she'd practiced many times since she was a small girl. She knew each step by heart, and every time she performed it was as wonderful as the last. Miorochi-sama, please enjoy this year's performance as well, she thought to herself, glancing at the mountains in the near distance.

A shrill cry drew her attention away. Sumiko was practically at the stage area already, so she hurried the rest of the way and hastily set the baskets down onto it. She flicked her gaze up in the direction the commotion was coming from as the noises grew louder. Then came the people, scared and headed in the direction of the Takamori estate. Where else could they be going in such a panic? Following behind them was the beat of hooves, the low groaning of voices, and the clink of metal.

If they were normal out of town visitors, the people wouldn't be so fear stricken. Sumiko went in the opposite direction, towards the disturbance, and when she found it she was struck by the same fear that had sent others running - but instead she was frozen in place. Weapons? Armor? The kind of things that existed only tales of the past were right in front of her. The strange men stopped riding, dismounting in front of the inn.

Eh? At Benjiro-ojisan's place? Sumiko couldn't help it, she forced her feet to move and quietly got closer. Who were these people, why were they here? On today of all days...

She wasn't particularly well hidden, across the street from the inn and peering out from behind a few crates. She pulled a parchment from her yukata, sketching the banners the men were carrying while her mind whirled. She'd been everywhere in the valley, she was sure of it, but she'd never encountered anything like this. The symbol was completely unfamiliar. And the... weapons... her sick fascination was quickly becoming just sickness. Sumiko placed a hand gingerly over her mouth. They weren't going to hurt Benjiro, were they? She wasn't particularly close with him for a number of reasons, but she'd hate to see him (or any of the villagers) hurt. But it wasn't Benjiro that came to greet the strangers, it was his daughter.

"Takara?!" Sumiko hissed to herself, eyes wide as the younger woman strode up on her prized steed.

Returning to rp-ing after 10 years!

Hey there, welcome! I hope you have fun shaking the rust off. If you have any questions feel free to ask!

hello

Welcome to the site!

Here for fantasy RPs!

Well hello and welcome!

World of Light

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 200/80 ------ Level: 6 - Total EXP: 145/60
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 521 (+1 exp)
Location: The Under

One way or another the collection of Seekers made their way through the hive, in groups or going solo. Once they reunited at the throne room they transitioned straight into a confrontation with the would be queen. Primrose and Therion were focusing on support throughout the battle with the robot wasp, content to let the heavy hitters of their group do their thing while they kept the worst of the swarm at bay or powered up their allies with invigorating dances. Naturally, the fight was not a straight forward one. Pretty much everyone was ready for the nature of the battle to change when the robot broke down and it's head compartment exploded.

Out of the two Travelers, Primrose was the only one on the ground when the bee's scepter struck. She had been between one dance and the next, and when the hexes broke apart she tumbled down. Less than a second later she came to a stop in the air, the sigils of her scarf lighting up and granting her temporary air time.

Therion had a gut feeling for what was about to happen, and so he jumped to avoid the shock wave. As he expected the floor opened up and a pit appeared below them. At least this one was filled with honey, rather than rocks or a bottomless chasm - but the thief still wasn't happy about it. He stood on one of the highest hexes until it would no longer hold him, and then he jumped to another. That princess bankrolling this whole adventure better give me a whole damn chunk of the treasury after this, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth and fighting to calm his heart rate. He was about to jump towards his favorite flying handhold, the ally queen bee in this case, when she summoned an enormous crystal for a more permanent perching place. Therion gratefully took a spot on it, and with some brief hesitation summoned a Shelleton next to him. When he didn't feel any adverse effects, he commanded it to fire. The gundead's eyes blinked red and then its laser shot upward, carving through the air and destroying any bombs it swept past. It focused on reducing Rumor's explosives while they were still in the air, any passes it made over the bee herself were incidental.

With everyone hurling projectiles up at the plane (and in some cases themselves), Primrose didn't think it a good idea to try and float up herself lest she get caught in some friendly fire. Still she got as close as she dared to the usurper queen, since there was no way for her to dance now it was time for her to go on the offensive as well. Her dress billowed around her legs and her hair around her face, in one hand she conjured the moonlight of Luna Λ and in the other the smoldering darkness of Moonlight Waltz. With the ring of Devout Beads slowly moving in a circle at her back, she looked the picture of a vengeful goddess. She let her magic fly, aiming solely at the plane.

Word Count: 492 (+1 exp)
Level: 4 - Total EXP: 177/40
Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar

Out of the cafeteria's impromptu maze and into another of dark hallways, the group left the specter behind them. Their rush for safety brought them even deeper into the hospital, and they only stopped once they were sure there was nothing else around save for the psychics and Seekers themselves. When Roxas explained how he'd healed Yuito, Pit whispered back a word of praise. "Oooh, smart. Even if its only once, good to know its more than a normal heal. Like a super-mega-heal." He'd definitely have to keep that in mind, along with all the other information about them he'd learned. He was glad to have a quick thinking friend like Roxas around.

When Hanabi let her relief show through, Pit gingerly stepped out of the closet to give the two some space after the Yuito's brush with death. His eyes flitted down the hall in the vague direction he remembered them coming from, and then down at rings of light that circled his arm. The divine weapons he could summon handily dealt with the likes of the Underworld army, so it stood to reason they'd probably work on ghosts from other worlds too. With the Watcher and Anima, he hadn't tried it - just following Luka's lead and prioritizing a swift escape over battle. That strategy had worked out so far, even with some close calls. In the future, he resolved himself to jump in and buy the others time to move while he test out the effectiveness of his arsenal. Especially since this place was more dangerous than Pit had initially assumed. The outside looked spooky, sure, but from what he gathered during Luka's brief rundown there was supposed to be some shady organization doing work here, wasn't there? How could they manage anything with so many monsters around? Maybe there's a secret entrance somewhere... or I guess they might be controlling the monsters somehow?

His attention was drawn in another direction by the soft murmur of distant voices. Behind him the closet door cracked open, letting him know that he wasn't the only one that had heard it. In silent agreement they all moved in the direction it sounded like the voices had come from. When they arrived they found an elevator, with it's lift already going down. They congregated around it. Pit answered Roxas' question almost as soon as it had left the other boy's mouth.

"Definitely," he said. Despite the danger this building held he was still ready and willing to keep going; they had people to help and a friend to rescue. He was sure he wasn't the only one that felt that way either. He glanced first at Roxas and Luka, then Yuito and Hanabi. "This might closer be what we were looking for, right? So we have to check it out! We'll probably be safer all together, but - what happened, Where's Raz?" There was no way that ghost had gotten to him, was there? "...should we look for him first?"

World of Light

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 199/80 ------ Level: 6 - Total EXP: 144/60
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 520 (+1 exp)
Location: The Under

Once the call was put out to summon the other Seekers, all Primrose and Therion had to do was wait for them to arrive. Therion drifted in and out of the temple, looking for anything interesting or valuable while he waited to flag the rest of their group down. Primrose kept the Water Lily Siren company, patiently explaining why "everything felt so different" after the friend heart had worked its magic.

The siren had been grateful that they hadn't left her at the mercy of the creeper vines, and after helping clear some debris from the area to make moving on easier and also promised not to eat any of the Travelers friends. She said it with such genuine emotion, clasping her large hands over Primrose's own, that the dancer instantly believed her. Even after she said, "but if you do find someone you don't like around here, I am kind of hungry after sleeping so long..."

When the rest of the Seekers (or well, most of them) converged on the underground temple beneath the arboretum, it was time to get a move on.

"Come back again if you want to!" The siren waved after them all.

Just inside the tunnel that would take them toward the Hive, as confirmed by Barnabee, Primrose held the spirit of the humanoid vine creature up to her face. She'd grabbed it while awaiting the others, and now she bound the spirit to her will.

For Primrose

New Striker spiritbound:
Animus of Will
A thorned plant monster with a shape that roughly mimicks a human's and a short cooldown. When summoned, she will always attack three times, either with advancing stabs, sweeping slashes, or root lashes. This quirk allows her to lock individual opponents down either in hitstun or blockstun, allowing the summoner to apply pressure or continue a combo, but it also means she's open to counterattack for longer, especially if she misses

Throughout the trek in honeycomb lined tunnel, the only living beings the group encountered were wasps and worker bees. Barnabee had warned them of the former, though he probably didn't have to. Sounds just like normal wasps, Therion thought, though considering these were almost as large as a person they were sure to be much more dangerous. The evidence of their hostile takeover of the bees was everywhere from the drones being forced work, to the paper nests affixed to surfaces, to the robots that surveyed the area.

Despite the occupation, the Hive itself was quite beautiful in an odd way. Rather than the inside of a gigantic bee's nest, it made Primrose feel as though the whole group had shrunk as they walked the path there. It was a strange feeling when mixed with the incredible view. Double so standing next to Barnabee, whose anger at the sight was palpable.

"Well... not for all of us," Primrose said, looking over at Ms. Fortune. "Perhaps a diversion would work to draw most of the wasps' attention."

The dancer tapped her chin, almost reconsidering the idea she'd suggested. It would mean less Seekers available to battle the usurper, assuming they would easily be found, but they'd done fine while split up before - even against a Consul. Of course, there was no guarantee that defeating the wasps' leader meant they would all leave. Thinning the swarm ahead of time might be beneficial. Sectonia's comment not withstanding. "That, or we just fight our way through."

Personally Therion didn't care one way or the other, as he would likely be trying to stay out of a direct fight either way. He offered an unhelpful shrug.

Word Count: 681 (+1 exp)
Level: 4 - Total EXP: 176/40
Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar

Once all of the teleportation was done, Pit let go of Raz's hand and shook his head briefly. It'd been a while since he'd been transported so many times in quick succession. He was right as rain by the time the small contingent hopped the fence, and he followed Luka through a side window into the building after agreeing with Midna's sentiment about the building. "Totally. There's no telling what kinds of ghosts or monsters would be attracted here. Plus if they're using it for evil experiments twice, what's to stop someone using it a third time? Or more?"

And to think they might be keeping the poor princess in a place like this. Thinking about it practically gave Pit the heebie-jeebies.

Inside there was already a team waiting for them. Introductions were short and sweet, with Pit giving his usual proud spiel about being a body guard captain. The impression that he got from the psychics were that they seemed like good people. If they were putting themselves at risk by looking into their own faction's shady business, they had to be. While they were listing off their psychic powers, Pit wondering if it was alright for the non-psychics to be here - but since Luka had taken them here with no complaints it had to be fine, right? Probably.

Speaking of Luka, Pit ended up with the group led by him as those gathered split up to investigate the building's right hand side. He wrinkled his nose at the state of this area - it definitely looked abandoned by people, but judging from the substance coating the place there was something else around. Then they came upon the calcified people... no, even if they had been humans at one point, they sure weren't now. And what were they made of anyway? Some kind of stone? Pit swapped to the Upperdash Arm, intending to shatter the strange statues per Luka's suggestion rather than attempt to cut or shoot them.

"Quick I can do," he said confidently, his tone dipping only a little when he continued, "and I'll try to be quiet."

As they came upon the statue-like things, Pit fired discuses to crush them in what would normally have been a human's vital spots, that or just smashed them with his weapon wielded like a hammer. The first time one of the albedo shuttered awake it startled Pit into hopping backward away from it. He landed in a puddle of psychoplasm, immediately regretting the action as he found it difficult to step out of it.

"Aw no, it's sticky!" he complained, raising his leg and looking at the plasma stretch as it held firmly to his sandal.

The albedo that had woken up jerked upright until it was standing, took a few stuttering steps toward the angel and then lunged - right into a standing uppercut with the divine weapon. The impact of the monster with the ceiling was dampened due to the psychoplasm still coating its body, but it still cracked apart as it hit the floor again. Pit extricated himself while the other two finished off a couple more, and then all together they could clear the area. Of albedos, at least. The next thing they encountered appeared to be a much different beast.

The group didn't need the shared telepathy via SAS to hear Pit's thoughts, as he voiced them aloud as soon as they came to mind. "Ew, what is that?" he quietly hissed to the others, peeking over a desk to survey it. It looked like it was made of the same stuff that covered the walls and floors, maybe trails left behind as that thing moved around? Pit narrowed his eyes at it, considering what the best way to go about fighting it was if it came down to that. Maybe the stuff its made of is flammable? Oh, or maybe those big glowy eyes are weak points? Wonder if it has an actual body in there or if its just a gross goo monster.

He looked over at Luka. "You could teleport us past it right?"

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

tags: @Queen Arya

---

"Oho? I got plenty of beauty sleep last night. Can you not tell?"

The white haired woman laughed, striking an exaggerated pose as best she could with the kimono in her arms. Otherwise she stayed quiet as she awaited Fumiko's opinion, anticipation clear on her face, if a little dramatic. Though neither choice could be wrong, Sumiko nodded along in agreement once the decision was made like she'd expected that outcome all along.

"Excellent choice as always, Fumi-chan," she said, sounding quite pleased. Sumiko gently replaced the green garment, then held the purple close to her and spun in place as though she were dancing with a partner. "Purple, mysterious, noble and spiritual. Specifically, this is hashita-iro. The color is made from murasaki plants, and the threads woven silk. Aah, I'd love to try my hand at weaving something myself some time!"

Sumiko slowed her turns, the motion transforming into a soft swaying. She smiled at her friend. "I was thinking the scale pattern might be a little direct, but it always goes over well with the crowd."

Without further ado she carefully laid the kimono on the table, and went to rummage for a suitable cover to carry it in. The hastily cleaned up room was gradually returning to a more familiar state as Sumiko opened a sliding closet and pulled things out. Boxes to sort through, hangers removed, examined, and lightly tossed to the side. Eventually one cover seemed to satisfy her, and she began wrapping the kimono in it. When Fumiko brought up asking for some extra help, all the white haired woman thought at first was, good idea! 'Many hands make light work,' or so the saying went didn't it? Before Sumiko could say as much, Fumiko went on. The more excuses she made, the faster Sumiko's expression morphed into a knowing grin. When she turned back to the young Takamori, the poor girl could see a hint of mischief in Sumiko's eyes.

"That's the only reason, I'm sure," she said, her voice light and teasing. Did their little Fumiko have a crush? She'd have a lot of competition, apparently a lot of the village girls had a thing for Tsubasa. Some of the village boys too. Sumiko let out a goodnatured laugh at her friend's flustered words, scooping one of the crates of supplies off of the ground and depositing it into Fumiko's hands. "It's not a bad idea though. Everything is ready to move, we just have to move it!"

Of course between bundles of cloth, parchments, paints, brushes, and everything else that Sumiko deemed necessary, it would be easier said than done. Sumiko herself stood with her hands on her hips in the midst of the middle of it all with a can-do grin. That smile had promised many things, and this morning it promised to get everything delivery on time.

"Well, almost everything. I need to gather up the matched hair pieces, but that won't take long."

Her smile was still in place when she turned away again, diving into the drawer of a little vanity. It was a dark wooden thing, not the typical make of Heiseina's craftsmen, and the little scratches here and there proved it was put to good use.

"You can go ahead if you want. I wouldn't want to get in the way of you and strong, handsome Tsubasa-san," she giggled over her shoulder. If the young man agreed to help out then they'd make short work of moving everything, but if not it was no big deal - there had been years when Sumiko carried everything to and fro by herself, so she was confident it would get done with time to spare. Although, she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate the help.

Ah ha! she raised an arm in triumph, a shimmering hair piece held between her fingers. The rest of the accessories would follow soon enough.

"You know Fumi-chan, you should show off a little more," the younger Hayashi sister said suddenly. Her eyes were still focused on her search, though her grin had melted to something a little softer. "Perform in the festivals sometime. I'm sure you would do great."

Her gaze flickered over to Fumiko. "It would draw you some attention too. You know, catch the eye of a certain someone!"

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

tags: @Queen Arya

---

"Hey, it's morning already."

The eldest Hayashi sibling had padded by Sumiko's room a couple of times already, going back and forth across the quiet estate. In the cool winter season the household was often quiet. Himiko had always been an early riser, but by now her sister would have left her room in search of breakfast. However, hardly a peep left Sumiko's room since last night.

"Sumiko?" Himiko rapped her knuckles on the wood frame outside of her sister's room. A muffled reply found it's way out of the room. Himiko sighed. "I'm coming in."

The door only made it half-way open, sliding to a halt in it's track. With her hand on the door, Himiko gave it a quick rattle, but it refused to budge. She poked her head inside, expecting to find Sumiko bundled up and asleep. Instead, their eyes met and Sumiko bounded over to the door draped in a lavish robe.

"Oops, I left a box there. Hold on," she said, kicking something out of the way of the track and opening the door all the way. Himiko stepped in, marveling at the state of the room. Piled up on one side were papers, tools, and boxes. Above them all a parchment was hung on the wall with Sumiko's handwritten notes. A little table with ink and brush was set nearby, miraculously balanced upright. On the other, props and costumes laid out gently. The opposite wall too hand some parchments hung, rough sketches of dresses and kimono on human models.

"Tell me you slept," Himiko sighed once she'd taken it all in. Her little sister gave her a toothy smile.

"Oh I did. Very well! I had an amazing dream. The gods of art must have big plans for me, I was woken up before dawn positively inspired, and I've been putting the perfect finishing touches on my act since!"

Although her hair was a mess and there were shallow bags under her eyes, Sumiko's gaze was as sharp as ever. The elder sister returned her smile. "Well, I'm glad. The sun's been up a long time ago though, you may want to get prepared for the day, hm?"

Sumiko opened her mouth, a retort on her lips, but a rapping outside cut her off. A friendly, familiar voice reached the sisters and Sumiko snapped her jaw closed, her eyes growing owlish.

"Even Fumiko-chan has come to check on you," Himiko laughed, Sumiko pushing her out of the room and shutting the door with a snap. A fluffy of motion started behind her. "I'll be ready in just a moment!"

It didn't take long for Himiko to reach the front of the estate, and she opened the door to greet Fumiko warmly.

"Good morning Ojou-chan," she said with a smile. "Please, come in. I'm sure Sumiko would appreciate your help." She motioned in the direction Sumiko's room was, though she trusted Fumiko knew the way. "I have to get going myself. Have a nice day."

The eldest Hayashi bowed to Fumiko before she shuffled out. More than likely they'd see each other again back at the Takamori estate that day. The hall leading to Sumiko's room echoed with every footstep, but before Fumiko could reach it the silvered haired Sumiko appeared around a corner. Unbeknownst to Fumiko her appearance was much more cleaned up than just a few minutes earlier. She had a comfortable morning robe on now, and gone were all traces of bags or blemish from her face, painted over with a soft layer of make-up.

"Hello Fumi-chan! Don't worry, everything's ready! There's just one more thing to decide before I move everything over to the performance area."

She led Fumiko the rest of the way to a quarters that were just a little more organized than when Himiko had found them earlier.

Sumiko breezed over a rack where two kimono and matching obi were hung. She plucked the garments and held them both out in from of Fumiko. Both were quality material of glistening, vibrant colors. One, a fresh spring green embroidered with silvered and gold patterns. Plant leaves, flower petals, and swirls. The other, a cool purple marked with thick and bold white thread depicting scales and fog, with a fading pink and red sunrise streaking across one sleeve.

"Different color schemes I know, but I think they're both fitting and have plenty of matching accessories to complete the look for either one." Sumiko looked appreciatively over each kimono, one in each hand. She looked like she could barely hold back talking about the meaning she could ascribe to the design of each garment. Her eyes flicked over to Fumiko, excited. "So? Which do you think?"