Fantasy Tales of Nakashigata

[Purr]

"Every life is, in itself, a tapestry of singular uniqueness. I will, of course, defer to your acumen on matters of importance," Toratetsu said with a propriety that was as pretty and thin as a hand fan, offering a reserved smile without a flash of teeth or a pinch at the corners of his eyes.

"Well-spoken!" said Koan, his admiration for Matsumoto-san's beautiful use of language showing. Samurai! Koan thought with admiration. What would Nakashigata be without their like?

"I would not turn away from a hot meal on a day like today. Under the present circumstances, I believe a round of sake might also be in order," he said with a touch more earnestness and a glint of mirth through the stoicism.

"Shall we?" He asked, glancing first to Koan-senpai, expecting the senior classman to take the lead.

"We shall. No typical storm will keep me away from good food!" Koan examined the grounds and the rain pouring in. He imagined for a moment that he were not tall and strong, but shorter-of-stride like the two ladies in their company. If he were built like them, what route to the food would he think was best? He was indeed hungry having trained and taught for most of the morning, but he took a breath of self-control and focused his mind. Once decided, he led the the group, but while on his way, he noticed a stranger who may or may not have been paying attention to them. He seemed alone in the rain - a feeling Koan knew well, especially from his first years here at NNDA. A monk from a monastery entering college with only little social interaction with the society outside his home walls in the Lake and Shrine of the Koi! And still a teenager! How lonely he was.

On a whim, he waved in a friendly manner to the stranger. "Hey! Want to join us for some chow? Don't stay out here in the wet!" Then he didn't look back but kept to his route. If the stranger joined them or if he didn't was something he would find out once they were where they needed to be. Of course, Koan knew where the food was. He had always been a big eater. Even with the rain, his nose and tummy knew where right the food was and was already guiding him there!

Mentions Dizmason Eternus X StormWolf

 

[Dizmason Eternus X]

Sound is carried through the wind as a form of subtle vibrations. Synth’s eardrums were graced by a myriad of these radiating waves, some resonated from weightless drops of liquid washing the current landscape, some he recognized to be a sum of disembodied kew-ings, and some were vague distant chatters from other colonies formed by students.
His pale pair of hues instinctively traced along wherever he thought the melody of these bird-like noises came from whilst being unaware of students marching each in their own way, truly a careless individual who prioritized nature overall. Whilst he did so, he caught a glimpse of one group who seemed off, a well-versed individual who appeared towered by those around him. The male shot his arm sky-high in a welcoming gesture displaying a friendly atmosphere… Synth’s physique stood still to process and comprehend the unexpected event. Purr

‘Odd, I didn’t see this one coming… I had plans of returning to my room and meditate. I did not expect making friends or connections under such circumstances…’
This thought was brought due to Synth’s rationalism, he wanted to avoid rumors that could spark any moment after people come to realize he originates from the Shrine of the Sword, the two facts could prove a headache if the conjunction were to occur. He would have faked a smile- But the latter person was quick to keep his pace. For now, Synth shuffled a number of outcomes in his mind to pick out the most suitable, if he was to walk away this instant, it would only augment suspicion. For now, he brought his palms and housed them each in a pocket of his kimono’s before he ambled in that one group’s trail. A few points of interest resided in his heart, the most notable one was that the only person he hinted about the investigation was present, and he needed to provide a suitable environment to update his Senpai of the decision change. StormWolf

 

[dr xenon]

Dashing through the lightened rain Shinjo assumes the others are following him to Shimasetsu Hall. Under the shelter of its portico he tamps the tobacco embers out of his pipe into an earthern receptacle seemingly set there for such purposes based on the amount of ashes already in its bowl. The rain continues to drum on the portico roof in a tantalizingly soothing rhythm. Stepping lively down the length of the portico away from the hall's main doors and to a somewhat smaller set of doors, he slide them open and steps inside. Gesturing for the others to follow he quickly sizes up the room - the warm, cinnamon stain of the cedar woodwork, the soft glow of the lamps inside lit against the storm's gloom, and the aroma of tea, garlic, frying bao and noodles. Given the hour and the circumstances the dozen or so communal tables in the "tea house" hold only a scant few students, staff and faculty. Most in fact appear to be stewards or other staff members.

Shinjo turns to the school steward rushing to greet the party.

Ashikaga-san, the woman of middle years, middle height and middle weight said in a cheerful greeting with a low bow. I have been expecting you since it is bao day. Will you and your guests be sitting at your normal table?

"Tanaka-san, you know me too well!" Shinjo fired back with a polite bow, "But I must graciously decline the table with the Headmaster's proscription against loud gatherings I could not bear for our conversation to intrude on the thoughts of others. Perhaps a private room in the back? The Ashikaga Hido Lotus Blossom room would suffice if it is free?"

With a nod Tanaka confirms that the space is available and leads the group through an archway of carven cedar at the side of the common room to a small hallway with two sets of doors. Sliding open the further set of doors reveals a low table of mahogany with a carving in the middle of simple lines suggesting the hint of a lotus blossom's outline. The table is large enough to seat at least 10 people around it. Centered on the table, on the wall behind it is mounted an antique Jitte with hilt lacings in the Imperial colors. Shinjo pauses in the doorway, regarding the Jitte somberly for a moment.

Turning to Tanaka he says, "Tea, if you please, Tanaka-san? Something to drive the chill from us on this gloomy day?"

Turning to the group he gestures to the table as if to say, Please, take a seat.

 

[Chordling]

Raindrops beat against the solid ground of the courtyard. Akira stood in the middle of a path with his eyes turned down. The weather soaked through his school uniform and the weight of the water pulled down his hair. One of his fists was still clenched. His mind was filled with the Headmaster's words. He narrowed his eyes at the thought of being idle while his nation suffered. Akira raised his palms to his head and the expression on his face became tenser. Every single muscle in his body wanted to demolish something- or, someone. A sudden lightning bolt that ripped through the storm clouds followed by a rumble of thunder told Akira to find shelter. He let his foot strike the nearest puddle of mud and water before turning away from the courtyard.

Akira sauntered back into his room to grab fresh garments. His roommates did not ask questions about his soaked state but were kind enough to inform him that Yumiko and Hiro were waiting for him in Shimasetsu Hall. Akira allowed himself to smile. He knew he could smell beans brewing. The young military student finished changing his outfit and took the path obscure from the downpour to find the rest of his trio. Yumiko was the first to wave to him from a table by the side of the main seating area when he arrived.

"Your hair is all wet, Akira, did you take a bath in the thunderstorm or something?" Yumiko began. She offered a fresh cup of tea to her friend once he sat down. Akira received the warm beverage and took his first sip. The flavors were soothing and comforting but there were still hints of a scowl in his features as he looked towards Yumiko.

"What did the headmaster have to say?" Hiro joined. But judging from the rage that was building inside of him, Hiro and Yumiko could tell with apprehensive looks that the conversation Akira had with the headmaster yielded unpleasant circumstances.

 

[Purr]

Once Hoshiko-san, Matsumoto-san, and rest of the group of students were inside and in Tanaka-san's able care, Koan looked back to the flash of lightning and the rain that fell with it. Nature was such a beautiful force and even here, Koan could not take his eyes away from the splendor and magnificence before him. For one long moment, he did not feel the emptiness of his belly nor the conversations all about him. Only the wood in his hand, the daikyu he had borrowed from the campus dojo, brought him out of his daydream and back to the loudness and emotional activity that always came with human company.

"The daikyu," he said to the group. "It belongs in the dojo. Pardon me; I must return it. Tanaka-san?" he grinned, hoping to get the friendly woman's attention. "My usual, please? I will be back before it gets cold!"

Koan, a man of action, turned politely from the group and set his mind in motion. He imagined the path to the wood-floored dojo from where he was - and once the path became a picture in his youthful mind, he simply let his body follow it. Koan had noticed years ago that many people of modern society seemed to hide from rain, inconvenienced by its wetness, its chill, or the effects of its aftermath could have on one's image and body. Not so for Koan. He had been playing in rainpuddles since he was a bright-eyed infant. The monks of his order used to smile and chide him. "Boy doesn't know when to come in out of the rain!" "Oh, I think he enjoys it there."

The latter was true. Rain's embrace always had a cleansing effect on Koan. It made him feel blessed to live in a wet nation like Nakashigata where the storms purified all things whether they liked it or not.

And so, his mind made up, Koan burst from the dryness and into the rain like a wild animal. He traveled through the grounds, half-running, half-gliding as the rain caressed his hair, his muscles, his soul. Once through the rain, he let his feet carry him all the way to the dojo - his favorite place on the entire NNDA campus. Upon seeing the sliding doors open to the wind and storm, he felt a pang. Despite his hunger, a part of him wanted to just run in and pick up where he had left off in his katana-training. Wet, cold, hungry, it didn't matter. What true enemy would make certain he were comfortable prior to making an attempt on his life? The way of the martial arts, at least for Koan, was to be ready for combat at any time, anywhere.

But instead of indulging his martial desires, he instead stopped at the doorway, bowed three times (once to the school banner, next to his sensei or his office if the sensei were not present, and once to his fellow classmates whether they were present or not). He dried himself as best he could and then took equal care of the daikyu for any warrior worth the title took care of their weapons as they took care of their own bodies - and Koan knew he had one hell of a body. One he had earned.

Upon replacing the dry, clean daikyu to rest with the others, he bowed to it as if giving thanks for its presence. Ducking into the changing room, he found his bag waiting where he had left it prior to his earlier excursion. He wrung out his wet clothes and replaced them with his simple monk's outfit (the one in the second picture on his character sheet). Now clean and dry, he took his hat and left the changing room. If any of his classmates were present, he gave them encouragement in word or body language before moving to exit the dojo. He bowed again in deepest respect. This time, to his fellow students, then his sensei, then the school banner. For years, this dojo had helped forge him into the man he wanted to become.

Koan hustled back to the group, this time taking the dry route. Once there, he found his place at the table. Koan bowed once to everyone in greeting and sat quietly, eager for food and conversation - the stuff of growth of both body and mind. He rubbed his hands together eagerly.

"Your body is your temple," he said to no one in particular, "you get out of it what you put into it!"

 

[Kaerri]

"Another fellow student with an inquisitive bend of mind," he says. "I am Ashikaga Shinjo. Miura-san and I were just contemplating a further discussion of today's events over a pot of tea at Shimasetsu Hall. I would dearly enjoy the opportunity to hear the theories of not one, but two students of the sciences on the matter. My own poor musings would soon get caught in a web of which family or faction would benefit most from inner turmoil and be lost to the facts of technical matters of insurrection. Perhaps you would care to join us? Besides, even through this rain I can smell chef Hansho's black-bean bao in the oil, and where her black-bean bao is, there is also her steamed broccoli and garlic shoots on panfried udon."

Kiku smiled at the girl and gave her a light bow, following Ashikaga’s introduction with her own, “Miura Kiku, it’s nice to formally meet you.”

Hoshiko offered a respectful bow to both Ashikaga-senpai and Miura-san. "Shirai Hoshiko," she replied softly. "Yes, thank you, Ashikaga-senpai." She wasn't sure what she would be able to contribute to the discussion. "Insurrection" was not something she knew a lot about, after all. But she would do what she could, even if it was just to listen. Lots of people needed someone to listen, she knew, but many times their "listeners" were too busy formulating their own words to properly hear someone else's. Besides, she found she didn't really want to be alone with her own worries right now. As was usual when she was upset, she wasn't hungry at all, but tea would be nice, and having good food in front of her might tempt her stomach. She did like Hansho-san's broccoli udon very much, and it seemed as if Ashikaga-senpai did too. She tucked her chemistry book tightly against her chest, arranging her kimono sleeve to cover it from the rain. Her other hand rose instinctively to shelter the top of her flute case so that no rain could slip in there, either. It wasn't one of the complicated, metal, covered-hole flutes she'd seen in imported books; she'd read flutes of that design could be damaged by water, but her open-holed bamboo shinobue had been properly polished and was unlikely to be harmed, except perhaps for cosmetic waterstains. Still, she didn't care to risk even that. It seemed their small group was destined to become larger even before they left the portico outside Headmaster Takishima-sama's office, however. Matsumoto-senpai had come up while she was talking to Ashikaga-senpai and Miura-san, as had Koan-senpai. She smiled up at her friend and her archery instructor, gratefully accepting the former's offer of shelter from the rain as the latter led them through the droplets to Shimasetsu Hall.

"Unless, of course, certain members of the student body happened upon, say... prohibited chemical reagents in the science storerooms, then one might consider it their solemn patriotic duty as a citizen and a student to reveal such things to the board," Toratetsu said, walking in long strides, shortened just enough for others to keep pace without running.

Hoshiko's smile faded, and her eyes grew troubled. "Y--yes, of course, but... I don't think I've seen any...?" She glanced at Miura-san, then back up at her tall friend. She wasn't at all sure she would have noticed such things. When she went looking for chemistry supplies, she was focused on what she was looking for, and rarely noticed those that were not on her list. Perhaps Miura-san had been more attentive.

With relief, she hopped up under Shimasetsu Hall's portico, and checked her book and her flute case to make sure neither had suffered from the wet walk. Both had escaped, and she smiled up at Matsumoto-senpai. "Thank you," she told him. Her gaze then went to Koan-senpai, who was still carrying the great daikyu bow and chose that moment to run to the dojo to return it. It seemed somehow like him to brave the rain to restore the weapon to its proper place. She hoped he would not get too wet or catch cold, but he was a quick runner and should be back soon.

Realizing the others were moving on, she hurried to catch up, following them through the front room and into the private room with a polite bow of greeting to Tanaka-san, the school steward who had come to greet them. She said nothing, however, glad to let others take the lead for now. She noted that Ashikaga-senpai was looking at the weapon hanging in honor on the wall behind the table, and recalled that he had asked for the "Ashikaga Hido Lotus Blossom room." She wondered if Ashikaga Hido had been a relative of his. It seemed likely, but should she ask? Or would that distract the conversation away from the contraband and the national emergency it had caused, which was after all the reason they were gathering? While she dithered, she drifted towards one end of the table, admiring its subtle carvings, and settled at a spot not exactly at the end, but far enough from the middle that she hoped to be out of the way of direct attention.

(mentions) dr xenon Shinjo, Pepsionne Kiku, StormWolf Tora, Purr Koan

 

[Pepsionne]

The warm smells emanating from inside the tea house began to wrap around Kiku’s mind as she breathed in the air wafting from the entrance. The cold, brittle wind whipping sharp droplets of water breezed behind her, snapping the ends of her hair to the side. Several dampened pieces stuck around her pale face, dripping small droplets of cold water occasionally. Her cheeks were flushed with a deep pink from the exercise and cold wind.

"Tanaka-san, you know me too well!" She heard Ashikaga quipping to the school cook standing before them. "But I must graciously decline the table with the Headmaster's proscription against loud gatherings I could not bear for our conversation to intrude on the thoughts of others. Perhaps a private room in the back? The Ashikaga Hido Lotus Blossom room would suffice if it is free?"

Kiku looked up from her act of brushing off the rogue droplets of water dotting her kimono. A private room? And one bearing his family name no less. She peered over at her recent companion curiously. Her mother would have definitely killed her for her manners if his family was prominent enough to have a private room at the school. Kiku grimaced at her thoughts. Hopefully it was just a coincidence.

The private room was located towards the back of the tea room. It contained a large table, with many seats gathered around it. Enough to hold all of them in their growing group anyways. She could already see Hoshiko, her chemistry classmate, aiming to take one of the seats towards the back. The sight of her brought her memory back to what the tall military student had said earlier to the both of them. Bubbling agitation threatened to crack through her empty expression like hot magma through smooth black rock. It hadn't struck any notable feelings when he had said it initially, but after more thought, Kiku felt the disrespect of his words. Insinuating that either she or Hoshiko had any forbidden knowledge or actions they were trying to cover up, she sneered at the thought. Not even a day into the announcement of the contraband and citizens were already quick to form distrust.

Kiku took a seat nearest the entrance of the room, her eyes trained down at the smooth surface of the wooden table. The glossy surface reflected globs of smeared light and shadow. Subtle grooving of a lotus flower etched into the table managed to snatch her attention briefly, keeping her expression from getting too heavy. The nerves that had been swimming around in her stomach had been swallowed whole by a burning agitation and frustration which she struggled to restrain from cracking through the placid exterior of her demeanor. She needed warm, soothing tea now more than ever.

(mentions: dr xenon Ashikaga, Kaerri Hoshiko, StormWolf Matsumoto)

 

[StormWolf]

The Academy Plaza was not generally something that Toratetsu contemplated in its dimensions, but with the shifting curtains of rain coming down without a hat or parasol, the distance seemed to stretch on with every step he took. Any discomfort from the wet or the chill was inconsequential, but Toratetsu inwardly fretted over his notebook. There was far too much effort in classwork, research, and recreation to be ruined by the weather. He flexed is jaw briefly as he swallowed the brief spike of worry, focusing instead on the great pattern of nature, and the sighing song of the rainfall.

Once under the cover of Shimasetsu Hall sweeping eaves, Toratetsu resisted the urge to shake himself out like a wild animal. The robe of his uniform sat heavy across his shoulders and back, saturated with the chill rain. A kindly, if reserved smile flickered to Hoshiko as Toratetsu swept and wrung moisture from his hair. Wayward strands had been battered loose to cling to his face in a tangle of dark, thick locks to be brushed back with steady hands.

"Now I truly could use some hot sake," he said dryly as Ashikaga lead them to a private dining room of the same name. Curious, but convenient as well as welcome. Watching Koan depart to return, Toratetsu chewed the inside of his lip with a meandering frustration. Sensei would have boxed Toratetsu's ears if he dared carry a bokken off the training grounds! That was, Toratetsu supposed, the luxury of being so near graduation like Koan. Or perhaps the studious sword-saint was just easier to trust.

Clearing his throat, Toratetsu settled onto one of the cushions situated at the immaculately carved table. Rummaging into the folds of his robes, he withdrew his notebook and set it by his knees.

"Some udon and a heated jug of sake, and maybe some seaweed, if you please. Thank you, Tanaka-san," Toratetsu said with a wan smile as he plucked a pair of chopsticks from the ceramic cup set near the table center. He was not so close to the cook as Koan or the others seemed to be, perhaps to his detriment. With precise motions, Toratesu set his chopsticks across the rim of a sauce dish and folded his hands on his lap to await the return of their senior classmate in a quiet reverence. Nobody else seemed terribly keen on conversation, small or otherwise.

 

[dr xenon]

After tea and sake arrived - bringing with them the earthy and warming scents of Jasmine and the heady smell of heated spirits - and everyone had taken a seat somewhere around the round table, Shinjo waited patiently for the first sips of each to make their ways to the welcome embrace of the eager guests. FInally taking a sip of his own tea he set it down with enough of thunk on the table to catch everyone's attention.

"I am so pleased that so many of the students who were interested in questioning our honorable Headmaster about his announcements have gathered here," he began with a gesture indicating the room. "This room is usually reserved for faculty and staff for discussion over private matters or small celebrations. On occasion students of my family are permitted to request it if it is not otherwise occupied. I had hoped to do as our Headmaster instructed - continue my studies, and had asked Miura-san to accompany me for such a task. The present company provides me with an even richer group with which to interact."

He picks up his tea cup and stares into its bowl. Up until this point he had made a effort to make eye-contact with each student sitting around the table For this frist time, contemplating the tea, he is making eye contact with no one.

"You see, we students of the Humanities never know what to expect with our final exams of our last year. I had hoped to pose a question to Miura-san inspired by today's events to prepare me for such an unexpected question. Perhaps, as we eat, you could all help me with my exam preparation - in a quiet manner so we do not break any of our Headmaster's instructions, of course."

He sips some tea, and silently rests the cup on the table. He lifts his eyes to once again make eye contact.

"My scenario is this - if one were to foment rebellion against the divine Emperor and the spiritual law of the Dragons and this academy were to be used as a go-piece on that board - where would one hide contraband firearms? Whom would you recruit among the students? Whom would you recruit among faculty and staff?"

Taking a moment to study his chopsticks he concludes.

"Purely as an academic exercise..."

Kaerri , Purr , StormWolf , Pepsionne , Chordling , Dizmason Eternus X

 

[Chordling]

Yumiko listened to Akira with a worried expression. She had never seen her friend experience this kind of frustration before. Her hands were wrapped around the small teacup painted with floral designs. She wanted to comfort everything Akira had to report but she found it impossible to know what to say.

"I don't see the big deal," Hiro said through a sip of tea. He felt color touch his cheeks as other students stared at him. Hiro tried to hide his embarrassment as his eyes peered over the edge of the drink. "Standing up for our nation during a time of need does not have to mean that we stand in battle armor. We should honor the Emperor's call of emergency and remain here at the academy."

"You wouldn't understand this, would you?" Akira scoffed. "I will honor the Emperor but I will also honor our nation. Nakashigata deserves better treatment than this during a national emergency." Akira's body leaned over the table with intensity. The edge of his shirt hung over the steam of a bowl of beans. His knuckles were almost white from gripping the edge of the surface during his impassioned speech. Somehow his table manners were ignored by the other students. Yumiko could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that Akira was restraining himself. Hiro did not move or adjust his posture but he worried that his friend, who was much bigger and stronger than he was, would lunge at him like a wild tiger. "How can we idle knowing there is more we can do to help?" Akira's voice finally broke.

The three of them froze against the living scenery of the tea house. Yumiko desperately wanted to speak but decided it would be best not to against Akira's growing rage. Hiro noticed by Akira's tone of voice that he was suggesting something radical but Hiro was unsure of the exact premise- yet he wanted to know. Yumiko looked toward Hiro. She also shared the same curiosity. Akira's mouth opened to speak again but Yumiko noticed that same restraint when his mouth shut without a single word. More academy students arrived in the tea house to avoid the undesirable effects of the rain. The three of them remained silent but the general amount of chatter increased. Some conversations were usual and related to classroom topics. Everyone was still concerned about the state of their exams despite everything that had happened. But some of the conversations shared the same confusion, fear, and anger that was forming between Yumiko and her two friends.

How many other minds were formulating plots against the Emperor's desires?

 

[Purr]

Koan noted both Akira's presence and his mood which seemed as stormy as the weather. Koan found himself grateful that Akira was not sitting at their table. As a fellow competitor for the school, Akira had his wins and losses, but he and Akira didn't often see eye-to-eye. Akira was fire. Koan was water. Together they often-enough made steam and not the friendly kind.

But then Koan's nose took over his mind and pulled him magnetically toward the table. Motherly Miss Tanaka was serving everyone their food and drinks. She placed before him a feast of fresh food with a smile. His requested usual was a lunch portion but she had gone the extra mile.

Koan put some of the credit on the Tanakas for his great health and energy. During his first year in the School of Defense, they figured out what he liked to eat and helped him get it. He loved them for it, publicly complementing them often. He discovered right then he had reason to do so again.

Koan hungrily looked down to the meal before him and saw two hulking pieces of fish, two heaping bowls of steamed vegetables, and the biggest bowl of noodles and soup he had seen for some time. Koan must have looked hungry for Miss Tanaka was standing by his side to see if they needed anything else.

Koan stared at her in naked awe. "Fresh veggies? Mahi mahi?! Giant shrimp udon?!" He moved and then restrained himself. "Miss Tanaka!" Koan exclaimed. "I almost married you just now!!"

Then he dug in, slurping his soup noisily to show his appreciation. Only when his stomach stopped growling did he turn to the conversation at hand, for he felt it did no good to have such discussions on an empty stomach.

He took the topic seriously.

"Hypothetically speaking," he replied calmly, "what would such people believe they could accomplish that the Emperor, his advisors, his samurai, and his chosen staff could not? Especially if they happened to be but students? In their pride, do they think themselves the Emperor's better?"

Koan felt he owed his very existence to The Dragons of Nakashigata and the Emperor of his beloved home. It would take a great deal more than a hypothetical situation to get him to go against those age-old feelings. It would take hard evidence, and he had seen none yet.

 

[Pepsionne]

The warming, herbal smell of freshly brewed tea wrapped itself around Kiku’s senses as Tanaka returned with their refreshments. She accepted the tea with silent appreciation and a light bow, letting some of the others at the table fill the room with their exuberant dispositions.

The tea was warm, soothing the chilled bite of her damp clothes as the initial adrenaline from her exercise through the storm wore off. Now all that was left was the awkward shuffling in damp clothes, longing for a freshly laundered yukata. The herbal scent also cooled the hot anger that had been boiling up as she continued to sit.

Although Kiku tried to keep the gnawing at bay, she couldn’t help but run the scenario again in her head, twisting the situation further and further from the objective tone each time. The feelings of agitation and offense were thankfully swept away like flimsy leaves in the strong wind of Ashikaga’s scenario being suddenly posed to the group.

“The school as a go-piece?” She thought to herself. Her hand was frozen against her tea cup, unable to process anything else in the moment. Were they in more danger here than she originally thought? Although his scenario was, of course, strictly scenario, she couldn’t help but wonder if there were observations over time that piled up slowly to contribute to this idea.

Her grey eyes followed the unfamiliar military student as he responded to Ashikaga first. His gestures and expressions, once broad and animated, were replaced with an eerie sternness. Although she agreed with him, that students had no place in involving themselves in affairs which were beyond their scope, she couldn’t help but feel a pit of bitterness lodge itself in her chest. They were all here, in the nation’s best school, for a reason.

“I think you are too quick to doubt your own abilities,” Kiku said lightly, hoping to maintain a polite disposition. “You are a military student are you not? Do you really believe your capabilities are that far below the emperor’s samurai?”

Her eyes fell down to the fragile cup in her hand. The surface of the remaining tea was calm and undisturbed. She swirled it gently with her wrist, watching the smooth waves as they pushed around in a whirlpool.

“We are all here at this school, the nation’s most prestigious, for a reason. We all got here for some extraordinary talent or another.” She lifted her eyes back in the direction of the military student. “If there was to be a critical go-piece placed anywhere in the nation, don’t you think we students would be the best equipped to handle such a responsibility?”

(Interacts: Koan Purr , Mentions: Ashikaga dr xenon )

 

[Kaerri]

Hoshiko accepted the jasmine-scented tea from the server with a grateful bow and shy smile. The Tanakas had always been friendly, but Hoshiko hadn't yet been able to tell if that was their general "tea room owner" attitude or if they actually liked her. She hadn't been here with anyone else except Matsumoto-senpai, and they had behaved towards him just as they had towards her. And when she had come alone, it was almost always with a book to read while she ate, so of course she hadn't noticed how they interacted with any of the other students. Today's experience hadn't helped that so far; if Ashikaga-senpai's family had a room named after him, their courtesies toward him could be due to that, and his general request for tea had obviated the need for anyone else to to do so unless they wanted something different, as Matsumoto-senpai and Koan-senpai had. At the sight and smell of the latter's newly-arrived and surprisingly substantial order of food, Hoshiko rather wished she had asked for some of the udon as well, of course in a smaller portion. But Tanaka-san had already moved away; Hoshiko's chosen seat was rather far from the door, preventing her easily catching the server's attention; and she didn't dare to interrupt the conversation, which had taken a very serious turn, for something that now seemed trivial and unrelated.

Ashikaga-senpai
"My scenario is this - if one were to foment rebellion against the divine Emperor and the spiritual law of the Dragons and this academy were to be used as a go-piece on that board - where would one hide contraband firearms? Whom would you recruit among the students? Whom would you recruit among faculty and staff?" Taking a moment to study his chopsticks, he concluded, "Purely as an academic exercise..."

Koan-senpai
"Hypothetically speaking," he replied calmly, "what would such people believe they could accomplish that the Emperor, his advisors, his samurai, and his chosen staff could not? Especially if they happened to be but students? In their pride, do they think themselves the Emperor's better?"

Miura-san
“I think you are too quick to doubt your own abilities,” Kiku said lightly, hoping to maintain a polite disposition. “You are a military student are you not? Do you really believe your capabilities are that far below the emperor’s samurai?” Her eyes fell down to the fragile cup in her hand. The surface of the remaining tea was calm and undisturbed. She swirled it gently with her wrist, watching the smooth waves as they pushed around in a whirlpool. “We are all here at this school, the nation’s most prestigious, for a reason. We all got here for some extraordinary talent or another.” She lifted her eyes back in the direction of the military student. “If there was to be a critical go-piece placed anywhere in the nation, don’t you think we students would be the best equipped to handle such a responsibility?”

Hoshiko unconsciously echoed Tora's movements, setting her chopsticks precisely on her sauce dish. Then she turned it slightly, then turned it again, adjusting the chopsticks as well. It was a nervous habit, meticulously arranging her utensils until they were just so, the outer creation of order reflecting, in an inverted way, her inability to create order within. It had been bad enough thinking of her home and family being in possible danger; now it seemed all too plausible that the students themselves might be as well, and might be expected to do something about it personally, despite what Headmaster Takishima-sama had said. As Miura-san had said, all of them were here because of their abilities, and presumably none were fools. If they thought it could happen, how could Hoshi argue?

She raised her tea to her face, not to drink but to inhale its comforting fragrance, closing her eyes while she listened to the others. "Surely, better that it be us than others less trained..." she agreed reluctantly, but so softly it was questionable whether Miura-san would hear, placed as they were (Kiku being nearest the door, and Hoshi having taken a cushion about as far from it as she could).

Still, her heart agreed more with Koan-senpai. They were only students; however talented, none of them were fully trained, and not only had they not been officially called upon, but they had not even been given a full understanding of the situation. The thought came, unbidden, that perhaps Takishima-sama had not given them a full understanding because he hadn't been given one himself. Hoshi shied away from that uncomfortable thought. Surely the headmaster had been properly and completely informed. This was, after all, a very important institution, and its students were the future of Nakashigata. But that only brought her back to Miura-san's point.

Hoshi looked at Ashikaga-senpai, her expression as hesitant as her voice, though she tried to speak loudly enough to be heard this time. "Theoretically, you said? That can't be improper, since we're here to learn how best to support our Emperor and our country, each in our own ways..." She trailed off, forgetting where she had wanted that sentence to go under the weight of everyone's eyes (whether or not they're actually looking, she feels that they are). She started again, positing tentatively, "If the shipment is still on the river, it isn't yet here, so it can't be hidden here yet." Ashikaga-senpai had also asked about recruiting students and instructors, but Hoshi had no idea how to answer that. She simply didn't know enough about any of them except Matsumoto-senpai, and her gaze automatically went to him for help.


(mentions dr xenon Shinjo, Purr Koan, Pepsionne Kiku, StormWolf Tora)

 

[StormWolf]

For several moments, Toratetsu simply ate in a contemplative silence with all the manner and decorum expected from a young man of his lofty breeding. Back straight, taking measured bites and sure not to slurp. The rich aroma of the tea mingled with the dishes, large and small, and the singular tang of heated sake as he woven tray came in, and the modestly painted ceramic cup was filled with he first sip.

Gazing down at the tiny cup pinched in his fingers, Toratetsu recalled when he’d had his first cup with his parents, how his sister had laughed at how small his hands made the dignified matched set of painted drink-ware look like a thimble. Of all of them, Toratetsu missed his siblings the most, especially the youngest, not yet put to task by his father’s ambition.

Toratetsu resisted the urge to throw back the cup’s contents like some ronin at a flop house as he mulled through all that had been said around the table.

“If this contraband were to be stored beneath the Empire’s nose, consider the implements the Academy has at hand,” said Toratetsu, taking another measured sip. “Facilities in which the contraband may be stored and stockpiled, either in their entirety or in individual parts. Should a seditious party wish, they could quite simply formulate a compound like gunpowder using the chemistry labs, and the firearms themselves fabricated in the engineering workshops.”

Toratetsu drained his cup, took a bite of rice and seaweed, and poured another helping of sake from the jug,

“Consider, then, if that came to light, and how the reputation of the Empire’s most prestigious Academy, entrusted to train the next generation of the Emperor’s servants, high and low? Every single individual here, and their families, would be thrown into immediate suspicion by mere association. It would destabilize an entrusted cornerstone of Nakashigata society by turning suspicions inward.”

Another pause, another sip, and another bite, as if Toratetsu was discussing the weather.

“If a farmer suspects that there is a viper in the reeds, he must find it both quickly and quietly, lest he cause his livestock to panic, and stampede through the village to cause even greater harm that the snake could have hoped.” Toratetsu took a deep breath. Dragon’s Breath, this was the most he had spoken at length with… just about anyone outside of classroom discussions on the writings of the Sword-scholars.

“If hypothetical students were to, for the sake of this entirely theoretical discussion, find it their patriotic duty to uncover a seditionist element within the populace, it must be done with the utmost discretion, or risk playing directly into the opponent’s hand. Koan-senpai is not wrong in his assessment. Our training remains purely academic, lacking true tempering in service. There is no substitute for experience.” Toratetsu said, inwardly musing at the state of the Empire’s warriors. Aside from the occasional peasant revolt or party of bandits, when was the last time they were truly tested in open warfare? If war did come to the Empire’s doorstep from some unknown, outside element, could the hope to muster a proper defensive and counter-offensive when peace has made them soft in complacency?

(Mentions/Interactions: open/et al)

 

[dr xenon]

An idle smile was fixed across Shinjo's lips as the discourse unfolded around him. He completely ignored his food, only holding his tea cup in one hand while he turned from one to another of his peers to give them his full intention. If Kidera's dismissive statements irritated him, it did not show. Nor did Miura or Matsumoto's apparent support of the ideas being discussed elicit a more pleasant response. His gaze fell full on Shirai as she made her comment, which may have surprised her as it was so low that the steam rising from Shinjo's teacup may have masked her utterance beneath it's vaporous roar.

Sensing the pause in the conversation he takes a small sip from of his tea, appears to savor it and swallows.

"Your farmer's viper is an excellent metaphor, Matsumoto-san, and a different interpretation of the clues to this riddle than I had made. I am grateful for this conversation. I had supposed the post's disruption and the ban on assembly to be means of controlling us. Urging us to focus on our studies was, I thought, a further effort to distract us from the brewing troubles and takes advantage of our sense of duty and obligation."

"Hmm - as to actually producing the contraband on campus - to that I would ask our fellow students from the sciences on the practicality of that. And while I would never - nor would any of my line - think ourselves the Emperor's better - we would neither care to explain why we stood idle when there was obvious danger afoot and we had the means to do something about it - experienced or not."

He surveys the group again - his smile is gone, but his eyes burn with earnestness.

"As my sensei says when testing a student, 'It is always better to do something imperfectly, than to do nothing at all.' I would rather act now, with discretion, to unravel this riddle further, than to explain why I did nothing when I thought that the bending of the reeds belied a viper underneath."

(interactions: StormWolf , Kaerri , Pepsionne , Purr )

 

[Chordling]

- End of Act -

 

[Chordling]

- - The Residence Halls - -
Words of the nation's crisis spread like wildfire through the academy until the day of the exams. Something about the demeanor of all of the professors seemed to switch. Their judgemental stares were nothing less than gruesome. Each professor expected near perfection from all of their students. Failing was not an option for anyone who wished to continue their academic career. Akira followed a regime to prepare his body for his martial arts exam. It normally worried Yumiko when Akira entered extreme workouts, but she had to focus on refining her own technique as well. Hiro isolated himself in study halls whenever he was allowed to do so but that might not have seemed as out of character as the others. The national crisis was not so easily forgotten, however. It became the main topic of student discussions just as exam results were finalized weeks later (some students sulked with fine, "passing" grades knowing they could have done more). Public voices sparked concern when reports of criminal materials located in various locations across the land were received from regular townspeople. Of course, the Emperor seemed silent on the matter.

Yumiko wandered through the residence building after classes had finished that day. She turned her head in every direction as she made her way down the hall. She noticed these strange posters appear throughout the day. First, it had just been the school bulletin boards. Now the entire walls were plastered with them. Each of them was identical in size and shape. Red lettering had been printed on ordinary parchment:

IN BLIND COLD WINTER
THE SILENT GATHERING CLOUDS
BRING RELENTLESS STORMS

The way the letters were shaped troubled her. She paused and turned her eyes up towards the first poster that caught her eye. She reached up and plucked the poster from its space on the wall. Its absence didn't seem to make much of a difference to the rest of the display. There were just so many of them. Yumiko folded the poster into the sleeves of her kimono and made haste to the nearest resident lounge. She needed to know who made the posters.

Kaerri Purr dr xenon Pepsionne StormWolf

 

[StormWolf]

Passable performance, but leaves much to be desired in terms of martial and scholastic excellence. Given the status of Matusmoto Toratetsu's family, the Military Program has come to expect more.

Toratetsu had been in the residence lounge in a sullen, meditative silence, pouring over his exam review over, and over again until the Sensei's precise, deliberate scrawl had all but etched itself into his retinas. Beneath the still exterior of Toratetsu's firmly maintained aloofness and deliberate calm was an emotional maelstrom the likes of which were daunting, even for him. He had always been internally disquiet, but this was something else entirely. The young man had always been terribly self-critical to the point of loathing, but now that he had this disdainful mark upon his performance record, it would spread to reflect upon him as a person, and then upon his family.

Somewhere in the dusty recesses of his mind, Toratetsu could hear his father's ranting disapproval and feel his mother's disappointed glances as she sat quietly by. It was the anxiety of a boy who had always strived to make them proud, who relied on the approval of his family and his teacher like opium to an addict. He was, then, thankful for the crisis that was locking down the post across the provinces. In the gaps of hard, tangible fact, his mind filled in the gaps as to what the letter from his household would say.

It would be nothing new, but it would hurt all the same.

Yet classes carried on as normal after testing, but Tora could swear that Sensei looked at him different. He had no doubt that Koan, the bright star that he was, passed with flying colors. Bastard. The ceramic cup of tea had grown tepid in Tora's mental torpor, which he found out by sipping and grimacing as the bitter grit of leaves. This was why he preferred sake. It tasted fine, warm or cold.

Looking up at the commotion at the other end of the lounge, Toratetsu's brows furrowed at Yumiko as she shuffled in with apparent haste, possibly even distress. Another resident among the ranks of mediocrity, perhaps? Rummaging for his notebook, Toratetsu took his review slip and stuffed it between pages, not really paying any mind as to where it went, just that it was out of sight. He couldn't loom over his failures, as hard as it was. He needed to do better. He needed to do something right. Maybe, just maybe, helping a fellow student as if things were normal would help him find his center.

Closing the notebook with a snap, Toratetsu looked up to Yumiko with as calm and implacable demeanor as he could muster, save for the quizzically quirked eyebrow that he picked up from his father.

"Yumiko-san," he said with a nod, "You seem... at ill ease."

 

[Pepsionne]

Kiku sat on a bench in the courtyard, her eyes wandering to nowhere in particular. A collection of papers sat undisturbed in her lap with one hand holding them together softly. She hadn’t looked at them even once, instead using them as a guise of productivity while she let her mind drift. The air was calm and silent, hanging weightlessly around her.

Ever since the announcement of the contraband and the discussions with her classmates that had followed, whenever given a second of lapse, her brain immediately became drawn to the subject like a moth to a small pinprick of light. It was the last thing she wanted to focus on, yet the only one she found herself able to.

Kiku’s exams went by with a passable mediocrity, nothing pinning her to the bottom of the class yet nothing making her stand out, either. Her experiments went by with barely any progress at all, a first in a long time for her. Whenever beginning to combine or mince the various ingredients, her mind was instantly drawn back to the memories of working with her father. She still had not heard anything from her family or the state of the Lake and Shrine of the Crane. The worry always stirred a sickening churn in her stomach, so she began avoiding subjects or acts that reminded her of her family as well. Most of Kiku’s days since the dramatic news were spent just like this, sitting on a bench in the open air during her free time, feigning a studious fervor to hide her absent nature. Sometimes she worried that something had hollowed her out from the inside, leaving nothing but a shallow semblance of feelings and the echoes they brought with them.

Despite her vacant demeanor, the campus seemed to be bustling with more energy lately. The teachers carried a weight of stress and tension with each lecture. The work piled up faster than ever. Kiku was numb to it all, even the mysterious posters that had begun to pop up around campus like an infestation. She would thumb over the haiku printed on the posters in her mind, over and over, but the words resonated with dead air.

“In blind cold winter, the silent gathering clouds, bring relentless storms,” She thought to herself. “In blind cold winter, the silent gathering clouds, bring relentless storms.”

 

[dr xenon]

Knee deep in the koi pond, the mud pulled gently at his feet as Shinjo shifted stones to rebuild the water features recently disturbed by a storm. He knew he couldn't place everything in their exact spots from before the storm, only try to find a new esthetic among them. Guided by occasional feedback from the elderly gardener he was assisting one stone after the other found a new place in its old home. His bare legs were streaked with mud from the cold pond. The straw jingasa he wore kept his head warm enough, but the exertion of his labors kept the rest of him warm as he worked away.

"Will that do, Shima-san?" he eventually asked the gardener as he took a few mud-sucking steps back to assess his work. A bow in return from the old man told him all he needed to know, and Shinjo returned the bow happily. He slogged his way to the pond's edge where he quickly threw on a heavy Yukata to keep himself from catching a chill.

He cast one last look back at the koi pond before turning back toward campus. The labor had been good for his soul. Tending the land gifted by the Dragons was the least he could do to show gratitude, and this pond had seen his ministrations since he had arrived at the school. But it had also kept his mind turned to something other than contemplations of treachery running through the realm.

A well earned bath is before me now, he thought as he headed to the residence hall and the adjoining baths. He made the best time he could in bare, muddy feet across the campus. His muddy legs churning quickly beneath the yukato he was holding closed with one hand.

Entering the courtyard he slowed for a moment as he spied Miura Kiko, and despite his soiled appearance decided to at least greet her. Walking about covered in grime from honest work held no embarrassment for Shinjo, but he could hear his mother's disapproval over actually speaking to someone in such a state loud and clear.

"Miura-san!" He called to the troubled looking young woman. "I must look a fright, but I wanted to say hello. Would you like to meet later to discuss the news of the day?"

interacting: Pepsionne

 

[Purr]

Koan had put his every effort into passing his scholastic exams. The effort to bring up so many facts, accurately, in such short amount of time made him want to collapse. For all of Koan's excellence in the martial arts, wilderness skills, and all things monk-like, academia remained his bane. If the new headmaster was trying to keep everyone busy by requiring the professors to demand more out of their students, it had worked on Koan. And well.

How he sweat! Even with the help of his tutor, Koan took twice as long as the average student to get a passing grade. These supreme efforts exhausted him, day after day, hour after hour. He longed to work out in the dojo where he mechanically went through the motions, attempting sometimes in vain, to memorize what felt like the mountain of facts required of him towards his degree in Philosophy. It wasn't the philosophies themselves that made his head pound with overexertion, it was all of the outside factors his professors now suddenly demanded.

Koan felt that no one cared about how old the famed priest Bankei was when he delivered his greatest lesson about obedience. When was it ever going to be important to him where Encho the famous storyteller was when he met Yamaoka Tesshu, the Zen practitioner? And in Rui's name, why was it important exactly how many paintings Gessen the "stingy artist" was said to have painted before his true nature came to light? Wasn't the importance of the lessons in the tales themselves? What was the point of studying philosophy if one was going to analyse meaningless details to the state of nausea? But still, the professors demanded information such as this on the exams and providing it brought Koan to a state of mental exhaustion that took him entire days to recover from.

During his recovery, he learned that he had just made a passing grade. It was enough! For Koan's goal was not to be the best and brightest, nor the student with the highest grade average - his goal was simply to earn a diploma worth having. Because of his learning disabilities and the lack of teachers with expertise with students with special needs like Koan, earning average grades was telling in the price he paid to pass. But earn them he would. His father depended on him.

Nowhere else was this so evident as when Koan entered the dojo for his exams in the martial arts. Swordsmanship! Archery! Unarmed Martial Arts! Here is where Koan fought like a demon from the gates of hell! Whether fighting with two swords, aiming a daikyu blindfolded, or taking on each of the four distances in unarmed combat (kicking, punching, infighting, grappling), Koan gave his all here where his learning disabilities aided him. Here, Koan did what he was born to do, fighting not for himself, but again, for his father. He turned down no opponent and win or lose, he fought with his very soul with all of the skill a born monk of his abilities could muster.

When it was all over, Koan had once again proven himself worthy in battle. Every bruise a fable, every laceration a lesson. And inside of himself, Koan was very proud of the way he handled himself, though his humility stopped him from telling anyone how he felt. The satisfaction was in the doing.

It was on this day, where his bruises had risen to the surface of his skin and hurt far less than when they were deep and yellow and purple, that he came upon the notices posted across the college. What was this? Who did it and why? Was this someone's way of calling the emperor blind and the storm coming upon them all a useless force to try to stop?

Things had changed a great deal since two weeks ago when he and his fellow students had shared that fateful luncheon together. The young lady who reminded Koan of his own challenges had seemingly challenged him when she said he was underestimating himself. This, on the fighting mat, was called "baiting." To get someone to take action they would not normally take by attacking their ego. But Koan's confidence had for years been the floating clouds far above the barren hills of his own ego. In order to go against the wishes of the Emperor, Koan required evidence. And it appeared! Criminal materials had been spotted in Nakashigata!

And more! This haiku. Staring at him. Staring at every student and professor in the NNDA. Even the headmaster himself! Koan thought it was something Akira might do - get his message out with such force that it could not be ignored and thus acted upon. How very like Akira who won most of his matches with brute power and striking techniques! Yet, Koan dismissed this as quickly as the thought had come. Koan was no law enforcement official. No detective. Just a simple monk in college despite his accomplishments. Certainly, Akira had motive, but without proof, Koan would not act against him. Still, the haiku had done its work well.

One thing was for certain. The wise Shinjo, the student who had started the ball rolling at that fateful luncheon, had seen this as a possibility. Koan took down one of the haiku notices, folding it carefully by the corners as to disturb it as little as possible. This he tucked into the folds of his robe to keep it warm and dry against any sudden showers. Then Koan moved. His senses open, he looked for anyone who was at that luncheon two weeks ago.

For now he possessed evidence of something greatly amiss.

Looking for (everyone) dr xenon Pepsionne Kaerri StormWolf Chordling

 

[Chordling]

Yumiko turned her head when she heard the male student speaking to her. Even though there were plenty of posters around to see, she procured the poster she took before from her sleeve and held it before her with both of her hands to stretch out the folded parchment.

"This haiku has been bothering me all day," she answered. "They're all over the place! " Yumiko had to stop herself from becoming too frantic and took a lounge seat across from Toratetsu. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude," she sighed as she let the poster fall into her lap. "How were your exams? Did the dojo masters treat you well?" She might have recalled seeing him during his training regime once or twice. Military students always had more access privileges to the training halls thanks to their rigorous program.
StormWolf


Hiro walked barefoot through the residence halls. His hair was not tied back with silk in its usual way. He took a left. Then he turned around. And went in the direction that used to be to the right. Hiro's path was indecisive. He bumped into a stranger, who had been holding a stack of school work, walking towards him. The school work ended up on the floor and Hiro apologized profusely after offering to help recover the clutter he made. His help had been rejected. Hiro wandered through the halls again, unsure where his feet would lead him. Everything was so blurry without his glasses and his memory couldn't tell him where he last left them. Was it after the samurai history lecture, during his nap in the library, or somewhere in between?

Suddenly, his blurred vision spotted a muscular figure in the distance. Hiro's heart lightened. Could it be?

"Akira!" he cheered. "Have you come out of your room now? I lost my glasses. I can't see where I'm going."
Purr

 

[Pepsionne]

The clear, strong sound of Ashikaga’s voice pulled Kiku from the hazy fog she had been contained in for quite some time. Her eyes, still laden with a sense of detachment, moved to find the source of the sound. When they finally fell on Ashikaga’s figure approaching her, his body splattered with mud and vegetation, the look in them cleared in surprise.

“Ashikaga-san,” Kiku said, her voice wavering in confusion. “I-uh-Yes, I’d love to speak about some of the recent events, I haven’t spoken much to anyone about anything as of late.”

She stood as he finally reached her, bowing lightly in greeting. As Kiku finished her response, she couldn’t help but look over his disheveled person. Her gaze landed on his bare feet, hardly visible beneath all of the mud that clung to them. The drying trail of mud travelled up his legs like a climbing vine. Kiku could hear her mother in the back of her mind, scolding her for focusing on such details.

“One thing you must never do,” Her mother had said to her during one of their lessons on social mannerisms and formality, “Is comment on another’s appearance. You never know the reasons why someone may look the way they do, or what they had gone through before speaking with you. It is unnecessary embarrassment for everyone involved.” She remembered she had hated that lesson, finding herself swallowing her tongue every time she saw a collapsing hairstyle, an unfolding kimono and now, in Ashikaga’s case, a thoroughly muddied figure. The barriers of polite society always frustrated her endlessly. She never could quite understand why people insisted on keeping large spans of cold, empty distance between them under the guise of formality.

Kiku steadied her eyes once more on Ashikaga’s face, hoping he hadn’t noticed her perplexion at his appearance.

Interacts: dr xenon Ashikaga

 

[dr xenon]

A cheerful glint caught in Shinjo's eyes as he noted where Miura's gaze fell. Despite his best efforts to suppress it a laugh bubbled up from within him. When it burst forth he realized how long it had been since cheerfulness visited him. He felt lighter, like something was pulling his feet off the ground. Relishing the lightened spirits and without a care for decorum he tapped his toes on the ground to draw attention back to their muddiness, then pivoted on his left foot and landed in a poor semblance of a No dancer: arms outstretched dramatically to the sky as if to pull down the rain or cradle the moon, legs in an exaggerated horse stance, yukata falling open over his bare chest.

"Please forgive my antics, Miura-san," he said when he finally got control of himself and stood up straight. He hastily closed his yukata, "but you have made me laugh and that is a great gift in these times. You caught me on my way back from tending a Koi pond I adopted shortly after I arrived. Perhaps after I bathe we can meet in the student lounge and continue our purely academic conversation?"

His stress on the purity of the academics in the conversation was clear.

"And perhaps I may twist witticism to cheer your mood in repayment?"

interacting: Pepsionne

 

[Purr]

Suddenly, his blurred vision spotted a muscular figure in the distance. Hiro's heart lightened. Could it be?

"Akira!" he cheered. "Have you come out of your room now? I lost my glasses. I can't see where I'm going."

Koan approached the poor fellow. He felt a sensation of gratitude, for despite Koan's scholastic and mental challenges, at least he had keen eyes. "Hey! It's Koan, assistant instructor in the Military academy. Hiro, aren't you? If you want to tell me where you've been, we can retrace your steps and find your glasses?" Koan reached for Hiro's hand and, if Hiro-san was willing, he placed it on Koan's elbow. "What do you say to that?"