Fantasy Tales of Nakashigata

[Chordling]

Tales of Nakashigata

 

[Chordling]

- - The Courtyard - -
Crisp strokes of ink bolted across the pages of a well-worn notebook from the sharp tip of a pen. A male student of Nakashigata's National Defense Academy studied the figures and their meaning as he wrote them. The level of his concentration was measured by how close his nose could press against the fresh pages. His mind was ready and eager to prove its knowledge but one question would always remain. How long would it be before his oval glasses would begin to fog up from the steam of his breath rising from the bindings of his studies? More strokes made their mark. The rhythm of his writing accelerated with each passing moment.

"Hiro!" a young female voice exclaimed causing the concentrated student to look up and break away from his trance. "You know that I don't like to yell but that was the third time I said your name. People out here are going to think I am crazy." Small groups of academy students dressed in uniforms were scattered throughout an outdoor courtyard holding out pens and notebooks much like Hiro. Some of the other students had glanced towards them with a variety of confused and annoyed expressions.

"Alright, please calm down," Hiro said beneath his breath. "No need to wrinkle your kimono over it." It was red, like the fallen maple leaves that swirled in the light autumn wind, and contrasted well against her pale skin. Her long, black hair was pinned back with a matching lotus-shaped clip and her eyes were a usual brown. Hiro's hand still held his upright pen.

"Which class has your nose glued to your notebook this time? It looks like you copied down one of Takedi-sensei’s lectures," she retorted while crossing her arms.

"A Tadeki lecture? Yawn," Hiro waved his palm in front of his mouth. The girl rolled her eyes. "Tadeki's content is so easy, Yumiko. You shouldn’t insult yourself like that. I already have everything I need for Tadeki’s tea ceremony but I'm really worried about my class with Katashi-sensei. She's expecting a lot for our semester exam and a large portion of it includes samurai history." He let out a short breath and glared at the ink characters that mocked him. Yumiko's eyebrows dropped as she sensed his frustration. "We should get back to studying. Our semester exams are next week."

“The exams are all you have been talking about for the past two weeks. You don't have to remind me," the young woman muttered. "I did want to ask you a question though,” she started to say but her classmate already had that focused glaze in his eyes. “Please? It will take you two seconds to answer, I promise,” she practically begged as she leaned her body closer.

"You can ask me your question," a deep voice answered. Yumiko's eyes shifted over to the speaking person. His back was slouched against his chair and had his feet raised on the edge of the table for support. His hair was tied back into a bun with a silk ribbon and he wore a piercing on his left lobe. The young man straightened his posture and took his feet off the table. He gently placed the book he was reading down beside him and stuck a stray leaf between the pages so he wouldn't lose track of his progress. The cover of the text was deep navy blue and white swirls drew outlines of clouds. "I could use a break from my own work. What do you need?" Yumiko gave a little smile and her eyes seemed to light up from the response.

"Akira, do you remember the Dragon Festival from this year? I want to know which festivity you enjoyed the most."

"Hmm, I thought that the martial arts demonstration by the monks at the Shrine of the Koi was the most impressive. The younger groups were not as coordinated as some of the rest but it's still better than anything I could ever do." Akira procured an apple somewhere from his personal sac and bit into the crunchy flesh. "Is this for one of your civics projects?" Akira wondered. Yumi nodded as she scribbled Akira's thoughts into her own notes.

"I want to paint scenes from the festivals on these pots I made in pottery for my bonsai trees. I am trying to collect data from all of my friends." Her eyes shifted back towards Hiro who wasn't even paying attention. "The monks were fun to watch but I just can't imagine how sweaty and gross they must feel after moving around so much in the sun. I really liked the origami contest. The Shrine of the Crane still strings the festival creations all around the building and they don't take them down until the Winter." Her small hands began to shuffle through her notes. The strength of the wind suddenly picked up surprising Yumiko and many other students around the courtyard. She squealed as the wind spun fallen red maple leaves and the loose ends of her hair around her face. Hiro seemed unphased by the brief zephyr and only took a moment to wipe his glasses with a small piece of cloth he kept with him but Akira looked at his book on the table disappointed that his bookmark flew away.

"I can't believe that you guys are still talking about the Dragon Festival. It was almost two months ago!" Hiro said through his frustration. He clenched his pen in one fist and pressed the side of his forehead in the other. Yumiko and Akira both looked at Hiro and couldn't help but smirk.

"No need to wrinkle your kimono, Hiro," Yumiko grinned while Akira laughed along. Yumiko opened her mouth to speak again but a blaring bell broke through the air before she could even take a breath. All of their heads turned toward the sound. A few students in the courtyard muttered in confusion.

"That's an assembly bell," Akira thought out loud. "I know that the headmaster is new to the academy but wouldn't they know better than to call a schoolwide assembly during study week?" his thoughts continued. Other groups of students showed as much hesitation and caution as they started to pack their supplies. "We should get going I guess," he shrugged. The three of them shuffled their things together and filtered their way into the mass of academy students heading for the main building. Hiro listened through the growing chatter of the crowd for any details but the consensus of the student body was all the same. No one knew what was going on.

 

[Dizmason Eternus X]

Enter; The melody of my serenity.

Soaking in the endless stretch of his emptied mind. If he were to describe it, his thoughts reflected the progress of space-time all around him. Other-worldly presence, Synth Mortival. Dozens of students came and off they went, audible footsteps resonating from their modern made footwear. Although Synth's eyes were at a complete shut, and have been for a while ever since he stepped foot into the courtyard. He could build a solid image describing the number of students who fled past him.
For those who could spare a moment of their time to glance over at Synth, his entire vessel took shelter into the silhouette of a maple tree. The fragrance of its log seeping towards Synth's uniform, whilst his lean yet muscular built tuned to his meditative state of mind. He had his long arms crossed along his busted chest, his strands of blonde sprawling from the cranium and descending along his bulk shoulders.
He was fully submitted to the tranquility of wind, each surge billowing his posture to caress his clean national uniform and pale skin. One thing he didn't enjoy was this uniform, in particular. "If only a uniform wasn't mandatory, I'd walk bare feet all day." Synth thought to himself, "I'd have the majority of my skin exposed to flirt the winds."


Time proceeded to pass, the numbers of students ambling their way began to decrease and so did their noisy presence. Much to Synth's liking, or so he thought to himself. Distant chatters, disembodied voices emerging from various colonies all around. Oddly enough, the festival from two months back still lingered at the core of every debate to be held. A brief sigh escaped his thin lips, unable to determine for himself whether it's one of content or that of the opposite. For now, Synth couldn't help but yield against his curious nature, thus his eyelids began to level up, revealing his azure orbs nestled in their sockets.
A myriad of notes has been engraved into Synth's mind from the first glance. The uniform was mandatory to everyone regardless of class. Furthermore, the male and female uniforms didn't have any significant difference. Everyone seemed protective of their 'student handbook', and some had already begun taking notes. However, Synth wasn't the only one to find it such bizarre behavior, as one of the students belonging to a random colony seemed to address the topic. Who wouldn't notice though? She practically yelled out at her peer for attention.


Hearing the female peer yell out the name 'Hiro!,' was captivating in a scene. However, Synth wasn't the type to middle in out of the blue, he turned a blind eye. Part of him did envy those who came in groups... But seeing them argue and vie for trivial reasons was a turn-off.
Eventually, as he reached with his left palm into a cavity found in the maple tree, where he stored his handbook and pen upon arrival. The sudden bell signaling for the urgent assembly was heard, and Synth already planned to comply. Whilst others were still hesitant and confused, wasting their time dwelling over a matter they had no control or authority over, Synth embarked from his post towards the main building. Clenching his left grip onto his student materials altogether, keeping them intact to his hip as he left a fraction of the maple fragrance at his wake wherever he went.

 

[Kaerri]

Hoshiko had been trying to study chemistry again. She’d much rather be in the library, where she’d found an intriguing book on springs and how different metals could be wound to different tensions for different applications. The formulas used to calculate the tension and predict recoil were a little beyond what her present mathematics courses had taught, but the descriptions were so very interesting. But exams were coming up, as a chatty group nearby had mentioned before returning to the Dragon Festival, and springs would not be on any of hers. Chemistry would. At least Washi-sensei had said the practical exams would be done solo, and being an exam, there would be no talking and everyone would be focused on his or her own work. It was still her weakest subject, however, and she needed the extra time for it.

The chatty students were very distracting. Hoshi was just about ready to head to the library anyway (to study, not to read about springs) or at least to another part of the courtyard, when the clamor of a loud bell cut through all the students’ conversations. She looked up, startled. An assembly bell, now? She looked down at her chemistry notes, wavering, but the students had been called and were expected to come. She marked her place with a dark blue ribbon and closed the book, then answered the call with the rest.

She caught sight of Matsumoto-senpai in the crowd, and started to move towards him, but then turned the move into a sort of general drift to fit in with everyone else. She didn’t want to be clingy just because he was her first friend here. He seemed to be with* several students of his own age, too, and she didn’t want to intrude. Instead, Hoshi let the movement of the crowd pull her along. Several of her classmates were nearby, and she stayed more or less in their area as they all walked together to the main building. She listened to the various wonderings and speculations, but no one seemed to know more than anyone else, and many (like Hoshiko) just wished they could get back to studying for the exams. What could be more important than that?


* StormWolf - this is just her perception, not me telling you what your character is doing. She’s as likely to seem “with” the classmates she’s listening to just by being near them in the crowd.

 

[StormWolf]

Matsumoto Toratetsu shared a love-hate relationship with autumn. It was a time of reflection and transition, the whispering winds that promised winter's chill rustling the leaves of the maples, sending them drifting on wayward currents. It was a lovely time to compose haiku, or at least make the attempt, in Toratetsu's case. He vastly preferred drilling and sparring in this weather than the stifling heat and humidity of spring or summer, but the cold made the mistakes in his bouts doubly evident.

Currently, Toratetsu welted knuckles bemoaned their discontent with a dull throb from within his sleeves, crossed before him in an air of aloofness that was expected of a young man of his breeding. Walking with a cadre of his peers, most were in the same frame of mind as every other student in the commons. The upcoming exams. Toratetsu was suddenly extremely aware of his notebook's weight, tucked into the fold of his kimono. The military program, by its nature, was highly competitive. Every interaction with his peers was, in Toratetsu's eyes, an exercise in diplomacy and negotiation between nations. They were to be kept at an arms length at the closest, unless there was a greater benefit of an alliance. In the crossing of the courtyard, two of his peers withing the program made such inquiries, but their voices had faded to a dull buzz in his ears.

Like clockwork, they come to the Tiger for sage wisdom on warfare. Typical.

Toratetsu's stature being what it was, he was easy to pick out in a crowd. His neck prickled, the sensation trickling down to itch between his shoulder blades. Turning his jade-green eyes to the milling, swarming students, his gaze fell on the pleasantly familiar face of Hoshiko. Briefly, they saw each other before the current of the student body swept them along, but the faintest smile curled the corners of Toratetsu's mouth regardless. Though she was a few years behind him, Toratetsu was happy to have a friend outside his field. He could let his guard down... and her music was pleasant.

"Hey! Tora! Can you hear me up there?" A voice stabbed through Toratetsu's reverie like a knife through silk a moment before an elbow caught him in the ribs. Cheeks and ears heating, he snapped his attention down to the culprit.

"I am sorry, Kuma. I presumed you would keep talking nonsense, so I tuned you out," Tora said, his once-pleasant smile turning into something sardonic and beguiling. Kuma was a short and stocky young woman from the Crane region, and a fellow militant. She clicked her tongue at him, dark eyes narrowed as she opened to mouth to give a verbal riposte when the bell rang.

Thank the Dragons for that... Toraetsu thought.

"Oh? You hear that? An assembly bell," Toratatsu said, making his best effort to seem disinterested and disengaged from Kuma's bellicose demeanor. In truth, it wasn't that hard. The timing of the bell was unorthodox, and had hooked the Young Tiger's curiosity.

 

[dr xenon]

"... word of Fukushima's victory at the Seven Stair Bridge didn't reach the capitol for 23 days," Shinjo muttered to himself as his feet brought his solo journey around the campus toward the courtyard's Lotus Gate. As was his usual practice for exams he thought best while speaking, so he had let his feet lead him around campus for the better part of an hour while he talked through his defense for his thesis in History of the Hakaido Period. His outbursts at his key points were only a little less disturbing than the way he would jab at the air with the stem of his Kiseru for added emphasis. But better to expose random members of the student body to his antics than to irritate his bunk mates again, or be asked to leave the library ... again.

"Where PANIC" -- jab --- "gripped the common people whose FLIGHT" -- jab -- "left the capitol bereft of rice and Fukushima's returning army STARVED" -- jab -- "only to be ... What's this then?"

Shinjo's pace slowed, the tip of his pipe returning to his mouth for him to draw in deeply, pensively as he observed a cluster of school Porters making their way hurriedly toward the assembly hall. Catching the eye of a Porter he was on fairly good terms with Shinjo raised an eyebrow as if to ask, "What's going on, Miho-san?"

The Porter's returning shrug seemed to say something between, "I wish I could tell you" and "I'm not really sure myself, Ashikaga-san" before focusing again on her hurried progress.

"A mystery, then," the young man thought as he tapped the tobacco out of his pipe, taking care to grind out the embers and scuff them off the path as if nothing had fallen there. His hands made quick, practiced work of collapsing the long, telescoping pipe-stem, and rewinding the clockwork, ignition bezel circling the age-yellowed, ivory bowl. Just as he was slipping the pipe into the pouch at his belt the clang of the Assembly Bell called the students to the hall.

"And," he added to himself as a smile started at his eyes and drifted down to the rising corners of his mouth, "perhaps an answer to it is forthcoming."

Tugging his loosened student uniform straight into lines appropriate for the Assembly Hall, Ashikaga Shinjo drifted into the press of his fellow students.

 

[Arcanist]

"Why did the Sou Peasant Rebellion fail?"

"Um...because the rebels...overslept...?"

The wooden blade cut through the air and smacked into the back of Rika's leg, a yelp escaping the young woman's throat. She wished the Dragons had granted her hindsight to see how this idea may not have been the brightest one. She was confident she knew everything about rebellions from the ground up, though the dark stripes across her right arm, and now the back of her leg, would be a temporary shame reminding her otherwise. The woman hissed, reaching down to rub the back of her leg, the sting still resonating at the area of impact.

"Must you smack me so hard, Benjiro?" Rika pouted at her fellow student, who chuckled as he rotated the bokken in his hand.

"It was your idea, Rika-chan," he said, halting only to look at her with that grin. "Just think of when you'll get one right, and how hard you'll get to hit me in turn!"

Rika's pout refused to shift. That seemed nothing more like a hopeful dream of hers now. Just like passing these exams. She blew out a breath, and jumping on the spot, made an attempt to loosen herself up. She was becoming stiff, too uptight. No way she would remember things whilst she was so stressed out over the prospect of being hit. "Alright, Benjiro! Throw me another one!"

Benjiro smiled at Rika's tenacity, and made to ask her a similar question, though all that came out was the ringing of an assembly bell. Both he and Rika paused, looking in the direction it chimed and chimed, before glancing to one another. "An...assembly? Whatever could that be for?"

Rika hummed to herself, hands on her waist as she stared back in the direction of the bell that sounded from afar. Normally they didn't call for assemblies like this in the middle of the week. She wondered how serious it must have been for one to be called now. Then again, they seemed to call them most times for trivial affairs or things that didn't concern her. Disobedient students most of the time, often citing, "There will be dire consequences, if X happens again, and it causes Y...etc..." She turned to Benjiro and shrugged, answering, "Something important. Maybe, with any luck, they're cancelling exams!" Rika grinned, poking Benjiro with the bokken, which he swatted away with his own weapon.

"In your dreams, Rika-chan," he rolled his eyes. "Come, we should get to the assembly before it's too late."

They tidied away their training equipment as well as they could, before both of them made their way to the main building together. Where Benjiro had been concerned with thoughts of the assembly, Rika had instead was transfixed by season around them. The sun peered through the reddening leaves of a nearby maple tree, and the wind scooped sun-kissed leaves from the ground into a small dancing tornado, before they fell flat once again. She would have commented on how pretty this season was, how colourful the Academy was, but Benjiro was often too preoccupied for trivial matters such as that.

They arrived at the main building, tides of students already filtering into the main building. Benjiro had spotted some students waving their hands frantically in his direction. He glanced to Rika, opening his mouth, before closing it, wondering how to tell her he would part from her company. Rika chuckled, shaking her head.

"Go on ahead. We can meet again and resume our study session, if you like." Rika smiled back at Benjiro, before he gave a quick nod, and seperated from her. She slotted herself in with the rest of the crowd, now becoming eager to discover what this assembly was all about.

 

[Pepsionne]

Miura Kiku drew in a deep breath of the crisp, autumn air. It was cooler than yesterday, but still warm enough that she could feel comfortable being outside for long periods of time. She was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, her various notebooks and study materials scattered in a mess beside her. The upcoming exams were a pressing matter on her mind; some of the subjects had escaped the scope of her attention and effort.

She looked down at the messy, smudged ink scribblings that splashed recklessly across the stark white pages of a notebook with disdain. She brought the book up closer to her face in the hopes that a closer inspection could help to decipher the blurry characters. Kiku closed the notebook harshly, her fingers digging into the soft paper cover. Even with an understanding of the descriptions beside the equations, she still was at a lapse for what they really meant. She hated physics. Using those mind bending equations to figure out how things moved and with what speed; it all felt like a big mess of numbers without any significance in her mind.

Dark circles lined her dreary eyes as she looked out emptily among the milling students. Too much of her time was spent disproportionately on experimenting with plants. Moving away from home and into the NNDA was a difficult transition for her. Without the strict demands of her mother, forcing Kiku to limit her time working with herbalism, she had no sense of structure. Currently, her routine consisted of a bit of class, a lot of experimenting, and swapping sleep to cram for exams last minute. She let her eyes drift off, the passing figures becoming blurry and out of focus as she lost the will to follow each individual as they mingled about.

A shy, cautious figure in the crowd managed to catch Kiku’s hazy gaze. The girl moved like a fish swimming gently through still water so as not to cause any ripples. Kiku studied the girl’s face. It felt like she had seen her before. Wasn’t she in her chemistry class?

“What was her name again–” Kiku thought to herself. “Shiro? Shishido? No–That’s not it.” She brought a hand to her chin in thought, her slackening mind seizing the opportunity to drift off into the deep red maple leaves woven above her.

As if the world was trying to keep her attentive, Kiku’s gaze was snatched back to the moment at hand once again, this time by the sudden zip of a bug. She followed its bumbling, wavy flight to the side of the bench she was seated on. The bee landed on a small flower, muddled with grass and weeds. Kiku’s drifting, glassy gaze was brought to life as she looked upon the bee’s interaction with the flower.

In a flurry of fabric and paper, Kiku was up from the bench and kneeled down near the flower, her rear pushed up into the air. Several students looked at her sudden movements oddly, but paid her no mind as the girl scribbled hurriedly into a notebook and muttered nonsense to herself. Kiku’s brow furrowed intensely as she studied the flower, using the movements of the bee to try and connect her understanding of herbalism to her weak understanding of physics. Deep in thought, with the rest of the world faded into gentle background noise, the sharp sound of the tolling bell came as quite a surprise.

She let out a light shriek, her hand moving with a mind of its own and spilling a large splotch of deep black ink over her page. Kiku lifted up her arm, staring with disappointment at the growing stain on its sleeve. A gentle sigh exhaled from her mouth and she picked herself up from the patch of weeds she had so eagerly launched herself into.

As the other students began moving slowly in the direction of the assembly hall, Kiku hurriedly began gathering her scattered materials, trying her best to avoid dragging her newly stained kimono sleeve over any of the objects.

(mentions Kaerri Shirai Hoshiko)

 

[dr xenon]

A flutter of loose papers covered with handwritten notes scurried across the ground like gulls on a beach in search of a morsel, and Shinjo's hand swooped down in its own flutter of dark cloth from his loose-sleeved kimono. Not unlike a cloud's shadow over said gulls he considered absently. Scooping up the pages his dark eyes backtracked them, spotting a flustered seeming student rushing to gather up her belongings as everyone else headed for the Assembly Hall. A few quick steps brought him closer to her, and let him snag a few more errant pages on his way to the young woman.

She's a science student, I think. He thought to himself. I feel like I should know her name, but would be embarrassed to get it wrong. Likely it would put her off, as well.

As he closed in on his fellow student Shinjo's hands reflexively straightened out the note pages, and fanned them out just so much so they would make an eye-catching flourish without being ostentatious. Sinking into a crouch so his eyes were even with hers, Shinjo gently cleared his throat to politely get her attention.

"Pardon me, miss, are these note pages yours?" he said with a slight, friendly smile and the non-ostentatious flourish of her papers. "And may I assist you further? I would hate for you to arrive last to the assembly."

(mentions Pepsionne Miura Kiku)

 

[Pepsionne]

After a brief and high strung moment of wrangling in all of her belongings, Kiku managed to begin organizing the papers and notebooks fairly efficiently into her bag. Her heavy brow furrowed as she filtered through a small number of loose papers in search of a barely legible compilation of notes that outlined her experiments with wild mint and tea leaves. She was just on the breakthrough of creating a cream to soothe irritated skin and possibly improve complexions, she just needed to get the measurements and additional ingredients right. Losing those papers would set her back days. Her heedless rustling of the thin papers backfired quickly, the clean white sheets now streaked with spotty grey slashes from the ink stain on her sleeve.

Kiku swallowed down her mounting frustration so as to not create a scene in the middle of the courtyard. She began gently putting her remaining objects in her bag, hoping that her boiling emotions would begin to fall in step with her composed movements.

"Pardon me, miss, are these note pages yours?" A clear, polite voice sounded from behind her "And may I assist you further? I would hate for you to arrive last to the assembly."

Kiku looked behind, her grey eyes wide as she took in the sight of another student approaching. His face had a kind, helpful expression to its features. In an outstretched hand, he held a neatly organized fan of papers whose scribbled, incoherent contents poorly matched their method of delivery.

She let out a deep sigh, putting her hand to her chest as the frustration vented out like hot steam from a boiling pot. “Thank the dragons!” She exclaimed, bowing to further express her gratitude. “You have no idea how much work you’re saving me.”

Kiku gently accepted the papers from his outstretched hand. “I’m working on this combination of mint and tea leaves as a soothing agent for irritated skin or possibly brush burns,” She began rambling, a habit she was powerless to break. “I’m almost looking at using it to clear and hydrate complexions but I’m not sure I have the measurements right. Every time I add more mint, the cooling of it becomes almost too much to handle, so then I try to balance it with the tea leaves which in turn take away from the soothing properties of the mint–”

Kiku began flipping through the newly delivered papers, having seemingly forgotten the presence of the new student in front of her. “But I still feel like something is missing, I swear I can make it more effective, it just needs one more ingredient to really punch up its properties. Maybe if I use a root of some kind–” She trailed off briefly, her placid eyes turning up to gaze at the afternoon sky before landing back on the man’s face in front of her.

Kiku blushed sheepishly at her absentmindedness. She bowed once more to him, this time serving as an apology. “I’m so sorry, how rude of me. Dragons, my mother would kill me for my manners right now. I’m Miura Kiku. Thank you again for delivering these papers to me.” She thought back to his original words when he had addressed her. “I think I’ve managed to gather everything now, but why don’t you accompany me to the assembly? Conversation is the least I can offer for your generosity.”

(mentions dr xenon Ashikaga Shinjo)

 

[Kaerri]

Hoshiko listened to her classmates' curious chatter. Though no one knew anything about why the assembly bell had been rung, it was apparently necessary for everyone to say they didn't know, followed by a chorus of "me too," followed by random and sometimes wild speculation. Hoshi was pretty sure, for example, that they weren't being summoned for an announcement that exams were being canceled, or that the dragons had arrived and wanted to meet the students of their home regions to give them a special blessing. And since the headmaster was new, then probably this wasn't to announce that they were stepping down and the academy had yet another new one, right?

She kept pace with them for a few minutes purely on reflex, the desire to seem "with" someone that she'd acquired at social gatherings over the years to avoid being randomly approached by people who thought she looked "lonely." Hoshi wasn't lonely at gatherings, she was adrift, and usually wishing herself elsewhere. Tagging along with a group provided an anchor of sorts, a way to look like she was part of what was going on without actually having to interact with anyone, and it had become a habit whenever she was faced with crowds, particularly people she didn't know well.

Which didn't mean she knew nobody in this crowd. She wobbled a few steps on tiptoe, looking for the tall young man she'd spotted earlier, and by good fortune happened to see him just as he caught her eyes. Matsumoto-senpai's smile inspired an answering one of her own, and she dropped back down off her toes, warmed. Her classmates' speculations faded to no more than background birdsong while she wondered whether that smile was an invitation, or just an acknowledgment. She didn't want to push her way in. Then again, it wasn't really pushing in if she just... found a different group to tag along with, was it?

Hoshi eeled her way through the crowd, dodging elbows and hands of over-excited, gesticulating fellow students, being careful not to step on any toes, and making sure she didn't step in front of anyone moving faster than she was. Finally she made it to her intended place, behind and a little to the side of her friend, where he could see her and talk if he wanted, or ignore her and not talk if he preferred the company of the others. She didn't really mind which.

(mentions StormWolf Tora)

 

[StormWolf]

Like the leaves on the wind, Toratetsu's fellow Military Program peers spread through the currents of murmuring students with the soft hush of so many shuffling feet. It fell to good reason that they would seek to seize the initiative and command advantageous positions no matter the battlefield, proverbial or otherwise. Sensei had drilled into each of them that the only way to truly become a master of ones craft is to live it in every moment. It was a harder lesson for some, and one that many more might not take into consideration. Those who chose to dabble, in Tora's mind, did so at their own detriment. In no uncertain terms, would he be permitted to be anything but the best military graduate the Academy rolled out in a generation.

That thought alone renewed the springlike tension in the Toratetsu's shoulders, shrugging at the twinge of a knot that wound up in the middle of his back. Craning his chin up to peer over rumpled scholar's caps and wind-tossed topknots, Toratetsu saw that a first-year had done much as he did in his first year; be unfashionably early. Tora knew a resident from the Sword Shrine Region when he saw them, and merely quirked a dark, scar-split eyebrow. Tora clicked his tongue in a soft 'tsk' after giving the student a once-over, green eyes drifting to find a place to sit.
(mentions Dizmason Eternus X )

To some, seeing such a robustly built and stolid man weave through the masses and tangles of students in a manner that was delicate and apologetic might warrant a chuckle. Toratetsu knew he must look ridiculous, like an oxen tip-toeing around throngs of goslings. Just as there was merit in might of arms, there too was a time for temperance. Tora muttered apologies when his elbow caught someone in the head, or they stumbled into his form as the conflicting flows of foot traffic descended into chaos. At one point, Toratetsu rocked back on his heels to avoid catching the wild fan-gesticulating of a Humanities student in the face, permitting himself another audible 'tsk' and a purposeful leer that followed the students until they fond their seats.

"If the student body is finding an unplanned announcement so invigorating, maybe their studies are too lax..." Toratetsu mumbled, idly rubbing his chin with a bruised hand. The day-old stubble rasped against the thick callouses of Toratetsu's palm, unable to help his own curiosity despite his frustration. Giving another shrug to try and ease the knot in his back, Toratetsu moved into his seat in the assembly hall, rummaging for his notebook and pen from the folds of his kimono. Leafing through his notebook, Toratetsu flipped by seemingly endless notes on the philosophies of war, the decorum of officers, and historical tactics.

Interposing the blocks of notes were various sketches; transcriptions from the Kensei Scrolls showing sword forms, skirmish theories, and the occasional visage of a classmate in ink or charcoal. Most were done from memory or through observations while at the sparring rings, others done during rare periods of rest. One in particular was done with a traditional brush, the subject being that of a young woman playing a flute beneath the boughs of a sakura tree in bloom. The tree itself was not actually present in reality, but it fit the song of the same name. Toratetsu was no artists in any professional sense, but it was expected of a samurai to appreciate and practice the arts in their own way.

A shift of movment in the corner of his vision brought Toratetsu's attention up out of instinct, his eyebrows shooting up slightly to see the subject of his ink sketch settled beside him. Toratetsu strangled the urge to snap is notebook shut, deciding instead that it would be more dignified to subtly turn the page,

"Good day to you, Hoshiko-san," Toratetsu said in a warm and dusky timbre, posture straightening despite the protests of his shoulders. "How fare your preparations for your engineering exams?" He asked, and his ears warmed. How terribly impersonal. Dragon's Breath, I sound like father at supper..., he thought.
(mentions Kaerri )

 

[dr xenon]

“I think I’ve managed to gather everything now, but why don’t you accompany me to the assembly? Conversation is the least I can offer for your generosity,” said Miura Kiku, as color flushed her cheeks.

Shinjo bowed as to an equal and then a trifle deeper, with a small flourish of his hands as he brought them together in front of him in the ancient tradition of his family. They were palms up, cupped gently as if to offer the person some gift. And, some might also say, to show the absence of any weapon.

"Ashikaga Shinjo," he replied, and straightened, his hair taking the opportunity to break a few strands loose in their constant war of liberation from the oppressive forces of the hair tie and brush. Two stray locks fall in front of his left eye as he levels them at Kiku. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miura-san."

Turning to let Kiku walk toward the Assembly hall he falls into pace with her.

"It is a pleasure to hear someone speak so articulately and dare I say, passionately, of healing salves so far from home. Even in this place of nascent healers and students of the sciences. Are you also from the Lake and Shrine of the Crane? I think I nearly hear notes of my home's accent in your voice."

As they walk Shinjo's eyes dart to another scrap of paper, crumpled and discarded next to the path. His eyes narrow like a raptor's on the wing catching sight of a rabbit near a hedge. Without breaking stride he pulls a small rod from his left sleeve, snaps its telescoping length out to nearly a meter, spears the scrap of paper on its barbed end, and deftly places rod and paper scrap back into his sleeve.

(mentions Pepsionne )

 

[Dizmason Eternus X]

House of Mortival retains an ancient history regarding the studies of one's self. Synth, being the Nomad who sought to peer into the abyss of life, death, and what lies between all for intellectual satisfaction, was often caught meditating. The house developed a peculiar interpretation of how Dragons had an over-leaping existence with lower life forms such as humans. Regardless, Synth was irregular. Despite his kimono that practically tells stories belonging to decades back, all scripted in threads of silk and ink imbued onto the textile, his attention was already set on a path of fate where he'd meet eye to an eye with that one horizon. The sun he imagined to be flirting lush grass with its strings of intangible warmth, rays of diecy colorations, and a hazy mirage gently caressing the embodiment of nature at distance.

"Even dragons went out of there way to descend here," He developed a mindset between his rational reality and terrestrial spirituality as he thought..."how dare we be so ignorant of the bliss we're in?" Truly a bizarre mindset. If he freely let his heart unfold, people would question his loyalty to generations of sacrifices to establish a nation. As he was the first to take a posture within the enclosed establishment, he already developed a keen sensation longing to meet sunlight once more. Synth's orbs reflected a hollow gaze lacking thrill as they nestled in their cozy sockets. With a sigh of an undetermined remark, he patiently awaited his fellow classmates to assemble. For most of it, Synth’s facial nonchalantly averted from any unpleasant sight; Stressed, Anxious, Lost, and Docile personas.

Accordingly, with his change of gaze, his two long, lean, yet muscular arms ascended to levitate parallel to his chest before folding into a cross. The wall of marble at his rear would soon host both his vivid silhouette and leaned back physique, allowing him access to viewing the spacious hall. Astonishingly, like worms in a jar, every movement was lacking in delicacy. “Good grief, if I had gotten here one minute too late, I’d be caught in this hazardous maze.” He thought. By a glimpse, he eyed an individual who appeared more or so a war veteran than a student, he was large and rough in build, yet wary of his footings wherever he made path. At his Berserker-like shade was a fragile-looking female, she escaped a critical impact thanks to the Berseker’s footing and reflexes.
StormWolf Kaerri

Synth kept his keen rational judgment at bay whilst he shuffled his deductions. If anything, he might require teammates in the near future. Following that thought that invoked a lingering feel of ecstasy center his heart, the atmosphere surrounding Synth’s personal diameter shifted from one warding-off to that of an embracing. This is where he dozed off into meditation, his face embraced a tranquil expression with a dim spark occupying his narrow optics that neatly shut soon after... A half-baked smile arose to decorate his thin lips, he already pictured the people he would like to approach after this meeting, and now he’d return into muting his presence once more, as it seemed like only one odd sheep caught a fraction of Synth’s native whereabouts.

 

[Kaerri]

It was interesting following Matsumoto-senpai through a crowd, Hoshiko thought. When she was by herself, she did a lot of avoiding other people, because she was shorter than many of them and much less assertive. For someone of his size and charisma, though, mostly everyone just got out of his way, and she just moved along in the gap he left behind him. It left her attention free to wander as they entered the building, and she noticed a young man who'd arrived even sooner than they had, leaning now against one of the walls as if nothing here was particularly interesting to him. She thought she might have seen him outside, under a maple tree maybe? There weren't that many students around with pale hair like that. It seemed for a moment that their eyes met, warm brown to honey gold, but she quickly dropped hers and went back to watching where she was going.

Or not going, actually; she'd paused to look at the blonde boy, and Matsumoto-senpai had gone on ahead and found a seat. She slipped through the other students to claim the seat next to his, and almost wished she'd kept up with him. He was looking at a picture in his notebook, but he turned the page before she could see what it was a picture of. She didn't want to ask about it; if he wanted her to see it, she was sure he would show her, and if he didn't want her to see it, she didn't want to pry.

His question echoed in her ears for a moment before it registered in her brain. "Hello, Matsumoto-senpai," she said, her voice soft and rather lower in pitch than might be expected from her appearance. "They are very well, thank you," she answered politely, but couldn't help continuing, "Except chemistry, but I hope focusing more on it will fix that." She glanced down at the textbook in her lap, then looked back up towards his chin, not just because he was so much taller (even sitting) but because it was her habit to avoid looking directly at someone's eyes, if she could help it. It seemed so bold, and bold wasn't a noticeable part of her personality. Her gaze strayed to his bruised hands, and she wondered whether that was the result of one of his exams. He was in the military program, after all, so combat had to be part of it, right? "How are yours?" she asked.

(mentions StormWolf Tora and Dizmason Eternus X Synth)

 

[Chordling]

"For the record, I think I know what I will write down as Hiro's favorite part of the festival," Yumiko started as they walked down the stone path together towards the entrance of the academy. She turned to her friend. "You have always been fond of watching the fishes swimming in the Lake of the Koi. I think a scene like that would go well for the pot with my smallest bonsai." Hiro tried to shrug her away, although he was smiling, but Akira was too quick to respond.

"There was one year when he tried to convince his parents to take one home when we were kids and there was also the other year when he tried to jump into the lake itself," Akira recalled looking up towards the sky. He frowned a bit when he realized it was starting to get cloudier. "Do you still buy a new koi kite every year?"

"Yeah, I still collect them," Hiro admitted. "Most of them are home with my father but I have some from the past couple of years." The three of them continued their small talk until they approached the doors to the academy. The crowd squeezed through a tight hallway and was relieved when it met the open assembly room. A grand stage decorated with nuts and gears overlooked a spacious wooden floor. The fine technical work twisted and cranked in the background. A trained eye could follow the intertwining path straight to the stage clock- another excellent example of craftsmanship.

More space began to fill. Yumiko somehow lost track of Hiro and Akira when they moved through the open room. Academy professors of all subjects stood by the stage and lined the perimeter of the room. Yumiko would have to settle anywhere on the floor without the company of her friends if she wanted to avoid testing her senseis' patience, she thought, as she plunked herself onto the ground beneath her. A sudden motion caught from the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. Akir and Hiro waved from the other side of the room. They must have spotted her hairpiece among the sea of red. Yumi gave a small wave in return to let them know that she spotted them when a stranger sat down next to her. At least Hiro and Akira would have each other during the assembly.

Yumi turned her body to face the stage. Academy headmaster, Takishima, stood alone at the front with his arms crossed behind his back and his head held high. His posture was nothing short of proud as he waited for the student body to fill the rest of the room. The decorations on his jacket told warlike stories and displayed high symbols of honor. Despite these citations, Takishima's expression softened. He could tell that the rapport he had with the student body still of the NNDA needed immeasurable improvement. Students had arrived, some of them even arrived early, but even more of them took their time to sit down. It was his first year as a new leading figure of the institution and the message he carried with him could change the lives of many enrolled students.

"By the order of The Four Dragons, I call for your immediate attention," the headmaster's voice demanded. The chatter that filtered through the air died to make way for silence. Takishima only continued once he knew that every single pair of eyes were turned to him. Many of the gazes were as he anticipated, confused but willing to listen if only to return to their normal routines as soon as possible. "There are three urgent matters that I will be addressing as headmaster and in favor of your instructors. The first," he paused, "There has been an increasing amount of noise violations throughout campus. I want to remind all of you to be more cognizant of your volume as we approach semester exams." Subtle bursts of speculation took advantage of the headmaster's brief silence. Professors were swift to turn judging eyes towards those who dared to speak out of turn. "The second," Headmaster Takishima proceeded, "The academy's mailing system has experienced a technical error. Incoming and outgoing messages within the Lake and Shrine of the Sword are expected to be delayed until further notice.

"The last matter that I will bring to your attention is of national significance." His speech jumped right into a new intensity but his body remained motionless like a statue. Professors seemed to brace themselves for whatever was to come. "The Imperial Family has made an official declaration of emergency for the entire nation of Nakashigata. A reported shipment of contraband was confirmed traveling by means of The Eight Rivers." Calamity-stricken faces plagued the crowd beneath him. It was a scene that Takishima predicted but it still caused the headmaster and many of the other professors a sense of internal discomfort. "The school has canceled classes for the remainder of the day to allow you to process this upcoming period of uncertainty. Professors have been informed to direct any student questions to my office. At this time, we find it best for the student body to focus on your upcoming exams, which are still scheduled as normal. Please return to your studies. You are dismissed." And like clockwork, the mass of students picked themselves off of the floor and bowed to the headmaster. Professors also displayed the same act of respect and guided the crowds back through the hallways. The headmaster turned his back to the mass of students and the space of the assembly hall was abandoned.

Takishima's words had been direct and informative yet they left students more uncertain than before. Yumiko pushed her way through a clumped group of people and found her way back to the courtyard. Fellow classmates returned to their original places outside with their pens and notebooks in their laps but any efforts to distract themselves from the recent news in their studies were useless. The declaration of emergency, from the Emperor himself no less, was a foreign source of stress that outmatched that of their exams. Rumors flew through the air like flocks of birds. Some of them were unsettling to Yumiko's ears. She flinched when Hiro suddenly tapped on her shoulder from behind.

"There you are," he tried to smile. Yumiko also tried smiling back.

"Where's Akira?" Yumiko realized as she turned her head about.

"He went to speak with Headmaster Takishima. Akira seemed bothered during the entire assembly, especially towards the end." Hiro's voice wilted. "He said that we should wait for him to come back. He's really determined to get some answers out of him." Yumiko nodded as Hiro spoke but at this point, she wasn't sure what anyone could do to elevate the mood.

 

[Pepsionne]

A spark of recognition flared in Kiku’s eyes upon hearing her new companion's introduction. Ashikaga. The name tiptoed around her brain with the feeling of familiarity, but similar to her unsuccessful attempt at locating the origins of her classmate's name earlier, Kiku ended up with nothing of substance.

Few students, most of them reluctantly dragging their feet in the direction of the assembly hall, surrounded them. Luckily, Kiku’s clumsy demeanor had spared them from needing to fight through the rowdy initial crowd. All that was left were the stragglers.

"It is a pleasure to hear someone speak so articulately and dare I say, passionately, of healing salves so far from home. Even in this place of nascent healers and students of the sciences. Are you also from the Lake and Shrine of the Crane? I think I nearly hear notes of my home's accent in your voice."

Kiku’s expression halted from its composed, polite appearance. A look of delight at the mention of her homeland brightened the young girl’s deep gaze; the color resembled a turbulent storm cloud interrupted by a thin veil of light from the sun.

“You’d be right to assume that,” She beamed. “My family maintains the Miura gardens. It is quite the tourist attraction, so I’m not sure if you would have heard of it.”
Kiku’s speech paused momentarily at the sight of Shinjo revealing a pole from the sleeve of his kimono, swiftly extending it to grab a crumpled paper that had gotten tangled in the grass along the pathway. Despite the sudden action, his expression had remained unchanged, barring a now disgruntled gleam to his narrowed eyes. She decided to make no mention of the act, given his discreet handling of the event.

“I work with my father to create herbal remedies and beauty products from flora grown in our gardens,” Kiku resumed after a momentary beat of silence. “It’s the main reason I enrolled at the NNDA. I feel like there’s just so much more out there–undiscovered.”

The last remaining groups of students began to condense in around the two as they approached the large assembly hall. A gentle roar of conversation leaked from open doors.

“What was your family’s occupation back home? Ashikaga feels to be a familiar name to me; I think my mother may have mentioned it some time before.” She looked at Shinjo expectantly, but by the time Kiku had finished, the two had already approached the doors to the assembly hall. Dragons, she had done it again. Rambled on too much about her own interests and left no room for her companion’s response. Kiku could already picture the deep scowl carved into her mother’s face.

"By the order of The Four Dragons, I call for your immediate attention," The headmaster’s strict, powerful voice pierced the air suddenly. The sound of it was a shockwave, tumbling the air around them into a startling level of silence.

Kiku squeezed through the doors, her shoulder's hitched high in fear of being scolded. She found a small pocket near the back of the assembly hall to fill in discreetly, gesturing for Shinjo to follow. A small pit of guilt burrowed itself into her chest. It was her fault he was late, afterall. Even with the booming powerful voice of the headmaster dominating the hall, the beginning topics rolled over Kiku’s attention with the force of gentle, lapping waves. The weight of her guilt and efforts to form an apology towards her recent companion were of greater importance to her.

“The last matter that I will bring to your attention is of national significance."

This time, the headmaster’s grave words strengthened into a full, crashing wave, whisking away Kiku’s attention and eliciting the girl to exclaim with a light force in panic. Although she was taught strictly to repress her emotions while in public, lest her features offend someone, Kiku couldn’t help her expression from furrowing into a deepened panic.

“National emergency?” She thought to herself. “Shipment of contraband?” If even the Imperial family had taken alarm to this, how could the school expect students to continue on with their exams?

Kiku’s complexion had paled significantly as the headmaster continued on with his news, the dark hair framing her face a suddenly stark contrast. Regardless of her state of shock, she managed to bow along with the other students and neatly filter out from the hall once dismissed. At the first sight of a bench near the doors of the hall, Kiku drifted over and sat down. Her movements felt stiff and foreign. The pit of guilt she had felt earlier burrowed deeper into her chest, the feeling beginning to crumble and morph into anxiety at the thought of being away from her family. What does this even mean?

(mentions dr xenon Ashikaga Shinjo)

 

[StormWolf]

Looking to Hoshiko as he lent her an ear, Toratetsu’s mouth quirked ever so faintly as he nodded in understanding. An intensely academic field like hers was likely more study-intensive than even Toratetsu’s own. Still, the older classman made a low “hmm” in the bottom of his throat, going rather well with his expression.

“I believe challenge is good for the spirit. I am certain if you apply yourself, you will overcome the challenges ahead, Hoshiko-san,” Toratetsu said with a casual certainty. Feeling her eyes drift over his cracked and bruised knuckles, Toratetsu suppressed the urge to flex or dry wash them, instead only faintly curling his calloused fingertips against the pleated legs of his hakama. At the Matsumoto table, such blemishes would have been silently judged and talked around in volleys of passive aggression. Worrying his lip, it gave an impression of Toratetsu literally chewing his words. It would be inappropriate to speak poorly of Sensei, no matter his frustration.

“Quite well, also. Musashi-Sensei is always reminding me that I have more to learn,” Toratetsu said, his tone polite, but frustrated. Fingers fidgeted, giving his pen an idle twirl as Toratetsu took a breath, mouth forming to say something after a pause when the Headmaster called for attention. Toratetsu’s mouth immediately snapped shut with an audible click of teeth and his posture straightened. The Headmaster commanded attention, so Toratetsu gave it.

The first point, however, elicited a twitch of one of Toratetsu’s eyes and a quirk of his brow. The Military Program couldn’t exactly spar quietly. One of the primary components in the martial arts was the command of breath and the explosive power of the kiai as they learned to harmonize and amplify their ki with their bodies. Perhaps those in Humanities needed to learn to debate and philosophize in a whisper.

The second announcement sent a wash of relief through Toratetsu, like a dip in an onsen. His heart would somehow endure not receiving the finely worded criticisms, like a dagger wrapped in silk.

The third and final declaration, however, piqued Toratetsu’s interest. A national emergency declared over contraband? Toratetsu’s head tilted ever so slightly as he weighed the possibilities. If the Emperor and the council of Ministers deigned that the best course of action, and not some political ploy, the contents of said contraband had to be a subversive element. To him, that meant one of two things.

Opium or firearms.

He needed to speak to Sensei, but what were the chances that they would disclose anything to a mere student? Curiosity wrestled with propriety, but that Matsumoto ambition also reared its head. If a student expressed an interest and initiative in the defense of the Empire, then that could only bode well...

With dismissal given, as well as a reprieve from the day’s classes, Toratetsu folded his notebook back up and slipped it back into his kimono. Turning to Hoshiko, he dipped in a polite bow,

“Pardon me, Hoshiko-san, I should discuss these developments with Sensei. Would you care to accompany me, or would you prefer to spend this free time on your chemistry studies?” He asked. Regardless of her answer, Toratetsu would nod in understanding and acceptance of her decision, rising from his seat in a single fluid motion, moving to try and catch the heads of the Military and Defense programs before they vacated the assembly.

“Sensei! I beg your pardon, “ he called, proffering a salute and a bow, “If you are at liberty to disclose the nature of the contraband, so that we might prevent the rampant growth of rumor and gossip that might cause unwarranted panic.”

(mentions Kaerri Hoshi)

 

[Life.]

Etched in lines that form into legible characters stating facts and definitions. Information describing historical events and the significant actions of certain individuals. All of the men and women mentioned in the writing were deemed to be of great honorable figures. The hands that clung onto the packet of notes, containing the writing, squeezed the edges of the paper till visible creases and wrinkles formed around the fingers. A strong exhalation of air left the lips of the young woman that stared at the crumpled papers. Her eyes were centered at the words but her mind had been dragged away to a dark storm inside of her. Heat of frustration colored her cheeks and nose and her heartbeat pounded furiously. The continuous mention of the words concerning greatness and honor tormented her. While they only appeared as insignificant characters on her page, they pierced her mentality like daggers. There were times when reading, comprehending, and retaining the knowledge given to her was manageable, but those were when other faces were present to keep her mind distracted from the impact the words had on her psyche. Currently, she sat alone in a busy courtyard with her thoughts struggling to focus on studying.

Images of a girl with black hair and dark eyes flashed across Akari's mind whenever her mind entered the storm. It had been some time since she left her hometown, but the past continued to haunt her from time to time. A weight of heaviness rested on Akari's back for as long as she could remember. The only times she felt lighter were when she observed the students on their last year of the Military Academy. Years of training of not only the body but the mind brought her hope that perhaps she could stand tall again.

Then suddenly, as if the dragons felt pity for Akari, a loud call of the assembly bell rung across the academy grounds. With an unexpected yet welcomed distraction, the young student re-focused her attention to the environment around her. She noticed shared expressions of confusion across the student body, but all were beginning to merge into a flowing stream towards the assembly hall despite the apprehension. While she shared the same worry as majority of the students, Akari calmed her expression to a neutral state. The last detail she wanted peers to notice from her were of signs related to frustration. Confidence and poise were two factors that her former mentor had taught her to wear as a mask to not bring attention to the cracks underneath the surface. Akari tucked away the papers into her journal that was then situated into one of the many folds of her kimono. She stood up from the bench that was located on one of the corners of the courtyard. Her hands were busy dusting off any dirt or debris that clung onto the rear of her outfit while she waited for most of the students to pass through the path of the courtyard.

A few eyes from the river of students noticed Akari as she stood there only to return to the faces of their peers that were interacting with them. This did not bother the young woman as she understood her chosen attire of neutral hued clothing and her position of standing in the shadows of the courtyard would not garner much attention. However, she did notice when certain bubbles of a group of students were clustered around a particular individual or when some students bumped into others. All different situations present on the same grounds. Once majority of the students had passed through the courtyard, Akari began to make her way to join the rest of the population.

Akari, along with a few others, were some of the last to enter the assembly hall. Her eyes did not have to look up to notice that some of the instructors close by were glaring at her. But for all the peers around her, their attention was focused on the stage at the front. As soon as she took her seat, the headmaster of NNDA began to speak. At first, Akari's face remained neutral until the headmaster continued further into his announcement. News of a shipment of contraband sparked the most reactions from students, including Akari herself. Her eyes had widened and her lips tightened. From the information given, it seems that the ship may be on the waters of her hometown, the Lake and Shrine of the Lotus. Thoughts of a foreign, tainted ship touching the waters that were homes to the maidens of the Lotus angered Akari. As the headmaster closed his speech, Akari stood up and followed after the first wave of students exiting the assembly hall.

There were ramblings and words flying across the mouths of students as the information began settling into their minds. The sounds of outlandish concerns and fantastical reasons for the ship's existence buzzed in Akari's ears. The accumulation of noise pounded against her head as she tried to hear her own thoughts, but it reached the point that she brought her hands up to cover her ears. Everyone's voices were drowning out her own. She ducked under arms and dodged sleeves as she weaved her way out of the crowd of students. Her eyes spotted an empty spot on a nearby bench, what she failed to notice was another person occupying the other end. Akari took the empty spot and heaved out a large sigh as she lowered her hands from her ears. With much of the noise moving away from her, the young woman felt her heartbeat gradually slowing and her head more clearer. Feeling slightly calmer, her mind noticed some colors at the edge of her peripheral vision. She glanced over and saw the other figure who had been occupying the other end of the bench. A female student she did not recognize. She had dark, long hair like Nanako and dark brows that stood out in comparison to her complexion. From her stiffened posture, it was safe to assume she was tense. Considering the other student was on the same level as a stranger to Akari, she found it difficult to conjure up the motivation or words to say to her. But feeling the same anxiousness as her, Akari pulled out a piece of paper from the notebook tucked away in her kimono and began folding edges together and pulling corners apart. "A little girl once told me, if you ever feel scared or worried, fold a crane so that it may carry your worries away," Akari held up a small paper crane towards the student close to her, "Although this crane may not be big enough to carry away a concern this large." Despite the gesture being small in comparison to the news, Akari presented it to her in hopes of comforting her. She understood too well the feelings of anxiousness and fear, and those were experiences Akari wished on no one else to endure. "With the news of the shipment, it leaves me to wonder what is going to happen next and how much it will affect us. You wonder the same thing, right?"

Pepsionne

 

[dr xenon]

Fangs and talons! thought Shinjo as his fellow students filed past him. A national emergency, contraband, delays in the mail system ... and noise complaints?

His brow furrowed as if contemplating an opponent's gambit in Go and considering if it was a feint to obfuscate a legitimate move somewhere else on the board, a lure, or a ham-fisted attack by a novice player.

Takashima-sama may well have included orders to his launderer, or a critique on the dining hall's sticky rice. His musings continued. Delays in the mail system may indicate that our letters are now being read - looking for subversives or sympathizers or recruitment ... hmmm ... the crackdown on the noise may be intended to limit our ability to assemble for such as well ... a feint then.

The move of the masses did not go without his notice. He pondered joining his new acquaintance outside, but hoped to overhear any conversations the headmaster was having immediately following the assembly. So he eased his way through the crowd - gently guiding other students past him with a small nudge of their hip here, or merely rooting himself to the ground and letting them flow past. As the crowd thinned he looked for a clump around Takashima-sama or to see if he had managed to escape an immediate onslaught of questions.

 

[Kaerri]

“I believe challenge is good for the spirit. I am certain if you apply yourself, you will overcome the challenges ahead, Hoshiko-san,” Toratetsu said with a casual certainty.
Whether or not challenge was good for the spirit, Matsumoto-senpai's confidence in her certainly was. Hoshiko looked up and smiled at him. "Yes. Thank you," she said. Her words were simple, but her gratitude was clear in every one. She was so glad she'd found a friend here, and one that believed in her! She had had friends back home, of course, but none of them had come to the Academy. Two had gone into apprenticeships instead, and one had joined the monks. Writing letters was better than nothing, and she generally exchanged one with each of them at least every couple weeks, but it wasn't the same as talking to someone sitting next to you, especially now that her and her friends' paths in life had diverged.

“Quite well, also. Musashi-Sensei is always reminding me that I have more to learn,” Toratetsu said, his tone polite, but frustrated.
Hoshiko wanted to say something comforting or encouraging, as he had for her, but her friend seemed about to continue, so she held off. But it was the headmaster who spoke next, calling them both to immediate attention. Hoshi dutifully turned her eyes and mind to Takashima-sama, trying not to be distracted by the fascinating gears turning behind him. She wondered, as she usually did on assembly days (and always forgot afterwards to ask) if it was permitted to come when the room was empty, to inspect them closer.

The headmaster spoke again, recalling Hoshi's already-straying eyes. "There has been an increasing amount of noise violations throughout campus. I want to remind all of you to be more cognizant of your volume as we approach semester exams." That would be appreciated by anyone trying to study, Hoshi thought. She didn't object to a reasonable amount of noise in ordinary times, but focus was critical right now. She was curious as to what the particular violations in this case were. Just students talking too loudly? That didn't seem enough for an official announcement, even if, like the conversations outside, they were distracting. She had herself been wondering just before the bell rang if she shouldn't go somewhere else.

"The second," Headmaster Takishima proceeded, "The academy's mailing system has experienced a technical error. Incoming and outgoing messages within the Lake and Shrine of the Sword are expected to be delayed until further notice. Hoshiko's mouth dropped open in dismay before she quickly restored her expression, if not her emotions, to tranquility. No mail from home? Before she met Matsumoto-senpai, those letters had been her best and sometimes her only comfort, as the story of the koi who became a dragon had been her encouragement. And outgoing messages too -- how would they feel if it seemed she had stopped writing? She hoped someone would inform the other regions about the mailing system issues. She didn't want her family to think she didn't want to talk to them, or worse, that something had happened and she couldn't talk to him. But Takashima-sama was still speaking, and she had to let go of her personal concerns and listen.

"The last matter that I will bring to your attention is of national significance." His speech jumped right into a new intensity but his body remained motionless like a statue. Professors seemed to brace themselves for whatever was to come. "The Imperial Family has made an official declaration of emergency for the entire nation of Nakashigata. A reported shipment of contraband was confirmed traveling by means of The Eight Rivers." Takashima-sama must have chosen the order of his points deliberately, Hoshi thought numbly. From minor to major, so that the students would not be too shocked by one to hear and understand the next. The noise violations seemed suddenly unimportant now. What kind of contraband would cause an official declaration of emergency? And for the whole nation, too? Now she really hoped someone told the families back home about the mail issues, with this to worry about on top of it. But even as her worries grew, her curiosity grew along with it. What kind of contraband? There was a variety of things that weren't allowed in Nakashigata, most of which she wasn't personally interested in and was just as glad not to deal with. But her mechanically-oriented mind couldn't help feeling a guilty interest in things technical that were not necessarily permitted. She tried not to let it show; it was her duty to her land and to the Emperor to obey in all things, and what he decreed must be right. But she couldn't help being interested, all the same, if only to wonder whether a proscribed bit of technology might be altered into something permissible.

"At this time, we find it best for the student body to focus on your upcoming exams, which are still scheduled as normal. Please return to your studies. You are dismissed."
No classes for the rest of the day to distract the rumormongers might be a mistake, Hoshiko thought. On the other hand, with news like this, who would be able to focus on classwork? She gave up her own thoughts of studying with a small sigh. Physics she might be able to focus on, or archery, but not chemistry, not today. She wondered if Matsumoto-senpai might like to shoot with her, but he had other plans in mind, it seemed.

“Pardon me, Hoshiko-san, I should discuss these developments with Sensei. Would you care to accompany me, or would you prefer to spend this free time on your chemistry studies?” he asked.
The first sentence had her starting to bow in farewell, but she froze when he continued. "Oh, yes!" she replied, pleased to have been asked, and admitted, "I don't think I can focus on chemistry just now." She paused a moment, remembering, as he rose and began to walk away. "Oh, but Matsumoto-senpai, Takashima-sama said all questions should be --" She had hesitated too long. Her friend's determination had carried him out of earshot as he swam upstream through the milling students, and all she could do was catch up before he reached his sensei.


(mentions StormWolf Tora )

 

[Pepsionne]

"A little girl once told me, if you ever feel scared or worried, fold a crane so that it may carry your worries away–Although this crane may not be big enough to carry away a concern this large."

The soft voice that carried itself through the air nearby served as a life raft for Kiku, allowing her to pull away from the growing whirlpool of harrowing thoughts brewing in her chest. Kiku’s eyes drifted towards the origins of the voice, landing on the sight of an origami crane. The soft white paper rested weightlessly in an outstretched hand. Her eyes traveled from the crane up to the kind face that delivered it. Kiku let out a soft exclamation in gratitude and gently accepted the gift.

As she took in the sight of the delicate bird, Kiku couldn’t help but be drawn back to the sprawling gardens from home. She would be deep into the masses of plants, tending to some of the flowers, when her younger sister would appear almost as if through thin air to hand her an origami crane from the batch she had made that day. Kiku would pretend to pore over the crane skeptically, examining each fold with an expert glare.

“Perfect as always,” She would say after the thorough inspection, each time igniting her sister’s face into a sunny gleam.

"With the news of the shipment, it leaves me to wonder what is going to happen next and how much it will affect us. You wonder the same thing, right?"

Kiku’s eyes turned back to the girl beside her with a start, the look in them still hazy with the fog of nostalgia.

“The concern I feel is mostly for my family,” She responded after a moment of thought. Kiku’s response was slow, as if she was turning each word over in her mind to ensure they each fit together perfectly. Quite a difference from her absentminded rambling earlier.

She turned the paper crane over in her hand, the soft texture moving soundlessly across her fingertips. “My sister makes paper cranes for our guests.” She mused. “She would slip them into tea settings, include them with our gift bags or merchandise. It never failed to brighten their visits, a little paper crane.”

Kiku straightened her posture in an attempt to realign her emotions neatly. “Thank you,” She smiled. “This gift is much appreciated. Worry will do nothing to help me navigate this news.”

She bowed slightly to the girl beside her. “Miura, Kiku. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

(mentions Life. )

 

[Chordling]

Musashi-sensei, a proud military instructor at the NNDA, remained stationary as students left the main building from the assembly hall. She watched in silence as the last batch of students shuffled their way outside. Other professors helped her to ensure that no one else was left behind. Musashi strolled along the outskirts of the courtyard yard. The loose strands of her floor length hair flowed behind her as she moved. She lowered her head as she walked past gloom filled faces. Her ears filled with the various rumors that were bound to be born from such an announcement of grave nature. It was hard for her to think about the safety of her students being compromised by national events. Musashi forced herself to look up when there was a familiar voice in the background that broke through her thoughts. Her steps paused and she turned to face Toratets and a calmer expression washed over her. The young man could have a temper fueled by insecurities but Musashi grew to respect the student more and more for his undying passion and well groomed poise as the years passed.

"Matsumoto-san, I see that you bring good intentions to converse with me on the latest matters but I must direct you to speak with Takishima-senpai," as much as it pained her that she could not be there to comfort her students during their distress. But they were the instructions left to her and the rest of her colleagues from the headmaster. "He will be able to speak with you in his office and answer questions based on the information that was given to him from the Emperor's advisors," she finished. Only then did Musashi realize that there was a second student with Toratetsu but it did not appear that the young woman was looking for her attention. The young woman's short and slender build was not of a trained warrior like Matsumoto's even if she was Matsumoto's junior.

(Mentions Kaerri and StormWolf )

 

[Dizmason Eternus X]

Ever-lasting serenity of mind and aura as it engulfed the one center-most its event; Synth. As the vocals emerging from no other than the governing authority stormed towards his being, a long sigh was let loose. It was tranquil, vivid, and barely audible as it traveled below his soft breath. 'Perfect timing.' A sarcastic immature comment rose from the core of his chest only to hang low at the rear of his throat. Synth wasn't one to make impulsive, emotional... Or even sentimental comments.
Swift to comply as always, his gaze fixed onto the grand stage, eyes like daggers peeking through thin pale sockets. With a stand-still posture and a rebellious long hair wavering like silk as it dangled. Now and then blocking Synth's optics from keen observation, only a tad, as his strands were arguably see-through. As it could leave an impudent impression to make path towards a suitable chair, not to mention that Synth wasn't willing to yield his current field of view, it seemed like his vessel braced itself for a long speech. Arms growing lax, back resting its weight onto the wall at his rear, thus his legs wouldn't sustain pressure nor suffer from tire; all in preparation for the unknown.
"There are three urgent matters that I will be addressing as headmaster and in favor of your instructors..."
Receiving the indicator, or rather an informative factor of just how long this assembly might last, his tender heart rejoiced a tad. The headmaster didn't disappoint, rushing right to the point without further ado. Now that he's mentioned the instructors, Synth came to realize he's never invested into knowing more about the schooling system, instructors, let alone top from lowest scores. He just needed a passing grade on most subjects, 'need not excel or stress over grades,' He convinced himself... 'good enough, is good enough.' Was his conviction.

The first announcement was rather irrelevant to Synth, although he strongly agreed. Racket seemed like a habit or a second nature to some students. The second, however, meant that Synth can no longer converse through the mail with his household... Might rely on pigeons for urgent matters.
Synth's innocent-like gaze resembling a child meeting sugar for the first time of its life suddenly invoked. His narrow sockets widened and his optics glittered with curiosity at its apex. He shuffled through an abundance of questions he liked to address on why... Why would the student body shoulder national level info? But all these distractions were hauled aback. Curiosity aside, the exams were still a priority. Still, this was nothing he would dare ignore. After their dismissal, a grin took residence on his facial before he bowed his head. His selfish expression was well concealed behind his hair and obedient act towards the higher-ups.
The transaction was quick paced, he animated his physique to comply with social-standards of self-respect and elder respect as he phased his way through the masses. Ambling with confidence nonchalant by any non-physical obstacle that might hinder his escape; judgmental stares, heavy atmosphere, delayed announcements, or anything of that caliber. At his wake lingered the scent of maple and the fragrance of fresh oak trees reeking from his kimono. His long hair flirting and snuggling against those who stood close by, with a motion totally paradoxical, divorced from Synth's control. He passed by a few students who seemed to converse, not to interrupt the formation of their colony he circled around them, then proceeded towards the exit.
Kaerri Chordling

However, he made his rotation near the Berserker-like person from a whim earlier, with an attempt to recruit him along his reckless plan to further investigate the third case Synth whispered, StormWolf
"I'm not ignoring this."
The timing to implant his comment was specific, pacing his walk to a moment where the convo of their trinity died or at least the man he's about to address was out of speech turn. Thus, he spoke his words at haste, yet easily comprehendible. Synth didn't halt to confirm if he was heard or not, as it mattered little to him at the moment.

 

[StormWolf]

Beneath the calm scrutiny of Musashi-Sensei‘s gaze, could feel their steely-keen edge as they washed over him in a cursory second. It was evident that she had visually dissected him. Toratetsu had been on the receiving end of that penetrative gaze since he started the Military Program. It was what made her such a great teacher, Toratetsu Presumed. She could easily weigh and find the fault of her students and he opponents, and work upon that.

“Of course, Sensei,” Toratetsu said, his bruised hands fidgeting ever so slightly at his sides before he bowed. “I was simply curious if the Military Program had any additional insights.” Toratetsu didn't expect that Sensei would have anything for him, but he'd hoped for... something. Ever since he arrived at the Academy, Toratetsu had been hard-lining for the Military Program, making sure that whenever it mattered, the teachers in charge. Perhaps it was a credit to Musashi's honor and discipline that no concessions were made, irksome as it was.

Within his mind, Toratetsu readjusted is position on the battlefield. The initial advance was pushed back, but the defenses had been probed. If it was anything of middling or lesser consequence, the flow of information would not be so severely smothered. To avoid panic, but to risk rumor mongering, implied that the rampant imaginations of stress-addled brains was preferable to the truth. If that was the case, was there any guarantee that the Headmaster would disclose anything to those outside his inner circle of staff? Either way, with the information he had in hand, Toratetsu redirected his efforts and resources. The announcement declared that the contraband was traveling the Eight Rivers, so was the hold on the mailing system to the Sword Shrine region cause or effect?

The entire process was but a moment, a brief pinching at Toratetsu's eyes as he made a dozen split-second calculations. Refocusing, he bowed once more in farewell to Musashi-Sensei,

"Thank you for your time, Sensei," Toratetsu said, "I look forward to our next bout of sparring." Toratetsu hadn't fully turned away from his teacher when he felt, rather than heard, the hush of a whisper and gossamer hair. A flash of instinctual tension shot up Toratetsu's back, his feet automatically shifting into a combat stance. His entire body coiled like an industrial spring beneath his uniform, but restraint and discipline thankfully won out. Toratetsu regarded the younger classman, a first year, by the look of him, devoid of expression but for a flash like lightning in his green eyes.

"Indeed..." he muttered, giving the student another sidelong look with a deeper, quirked furrow in his brow. Drifting to Hoshiko, he nodded politely and made a modest knife-hand gesture towards where the Headmaster was positioned on the stage. It was an unspoken offer to her to lead the way, a way of him prodding to gauge her interest in the mystery laid before them. If she was hesitant overlong, Toratetsu would simply smile in the way he did and start his way through the crowd like a shark among the waters.
(mentions Dizmason Eternus X Kaerri )