gun it!

Makoto Niijima has appeared! What to do?

brush off

caress cheek

throw drink

the hoosier schoolboy.

          AH, TO BE a phantom thief – to live a life full of adventure, mystery, and constant action. or at least, one would think; though to the pair’s own misfortune (or fortune, who knew?), life was not quite that extravagant. to be a phantom thief was to be, well, normal, to hide all hints to their truth from the public eye. 

          said normalcy included dealing with busy groups of people on the street, bustling around with little to no shame around as they surrounded one of the many politicians who’d begun to give speeches as of late. ‘twas but another oration meant to tarnish the name of the thieves of heart, to soil the work they’d done out of the good of their own. as much as makoto wished to speak out herself, she was left to only frown, irritation bubbling up through her gut.

          this was all to be expected, almost accepted with how often it occurred– but still. something about being cramped into a crowd like a pack of sardines, with the individuals next to her quite literally shoving her from one side to the other, yelling their own agreement about how awful these ‘criminal phantom thieves’ were right into her ear just didn’t sit right. 

the guilt that appeared in her expression didn’t go unnoticed by ren. he gave the older girl a somewhat confused look. why had her demeanor changed? she had seemed very eager to go to the arcade. then he put it together rather easily. maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up…

“it’s no big deal, really.” he tried to reassure her, rubbing the back of his neck. her response netted a slightly nervous response. while he had planned on studying, he knew how serious makoto was when it came to school work. “uh…thanks…” he muttered, looking away slightly. “hmm? yeah, we could definitely do that. you did great last time. if i hadn’t known, i would’ve thought you were a regular player.” he complimented.

          ❝ ALRIGHT... IF YOU say so. ❞ comes her response, trying her best to shrug away whatever negative emotion she felt. dwelling on it would be going against her whole intention behind this little trip, after all. this was her opportunity to let loose and have fun -- there was no use on worrying over the one thing she was attempting to take a break from. the compliment, however, catches her off guard.

          ❝ oh? ❞ she says, a bit embarrassed at the words. she smiles sheepishly at it nevertheless; a single hand raising, waving a couple times as if to brush away the comment. ❝ please. it was beginners luck. i can only hope it goes as well today. ❞

the hoosier schoolboy.

          MAKOTO NIIJIMA, THE so called definition of perfection, took pride in her health. makoto niijima had flawless vision, did not have allergies, did not falter to exhaustion, general physical pain, or anything of the like. her body always seemed to withstand odd weather and whatnot as well; the obedient diligence forced upon her mind and actions seemingly carrying to her physique, too. 

          all in all, makoto niijima did not get sick.

          and yet, here she was, practically wheezing out her lungs into a clenched fist over a plate of rice. her forehead beaded with sweat, tears brimming the corner of eyes as she tries her best to muffle the sound; all the while her sister stared at her with – is that worry? – a raised brow and odd look in her gaze.

          ❝ no, it’s not like that, ❞ she mutters hoarsely, as soon as the fit had subsided. ❝ i just was eating too quickly. i’m fine. ❞

          as if on cue, she sneezes. 

          ❝ i’m fine, ❞ she repeats it, clearly this time, as if this will make sae believe her words any more. as if it will make makoto herself believe it, too. it doesn’t.

      IT’S  JUST  THE  TWO  OF  THEM  LEFT  NOW .  the  others  having  returned  home  from  the  festival  several  minutes  ago .  akira  should  be  heading  home  too  but  it’s  his  first  (  &  probably  last  )  time  at  the  shujin  culture  festival .  he  wants  to  look  around  a  bit  before  going  back  home .  of  course  he  doesn’t  mind  having  a  friend’s  company  while  doing  so .

      THE  LIGHT  MUSIC  PLAYS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND ,  as  students  of  various  groups  dance  in  the  empty  classroom .  akira  pays  no  mind  to  it  however .  his  full  &  undivided  attention  is  on  her .  he  smirks  a  little  as  he  notes  the  slight  flush  to  her  cheeks .  he’s  embarrassing  her  &  he  knows  it .  it’s  all  in  good  fun  though  or  at  least  it’s  intended  to  be .

      ❛    IT’S  NEVER  TOO  LATE  TO  TRY .    ❜  his  tone  is  light  &  playful ,  extending  his  hand  to  her  like  the  gentleman  thief  he  is .  ❛    come  on ,  i  can  show  you  a  couple  moves .  we  are  supposed  to  be  having  fun  aren’t  we ?    ❜

          HER HOPES ARE crushed with a single offering of the hand. (except, they’re not really -- in truth, she had nothing against the occurrence. she’s just embarrassed, not that she’d ever admit it aloud.) former cherry hues spread across her visage only deepen in shade, and she can feel the warmth spreading all the way to her ears. 

          ❝ i-- i’m supposed to be keeping an eye on everyone. ❞ it’s not a lie, but it’s a bad -- an awkward -- excuse, and she almost feels trapped. digits tug on a strand of hair, old habits brought to fruition through her anxiety, and she refuses to meet his eye. instead, she lets her gaze trail the lingering students, watching them as they shifted about. to her, it was like they didn’t have a care in the world; and his words can’t help but replay in her mind.

          fun. they were supposed to be having fun. is that not what she’d been trying to do recently? why was she being so wary?

comfortable silence. that was something he enjoyed about their friendship - as much as he loved helping yusuke with his art, or the arcade with ryuji, this was just as special. he was reading something, himself, though found this current page a bit difficult to get through - so, he was glad for the conversation that came up.

gray eyes glance upwards to get a better look, before setting the book down in his lap. head cants a bit at the inquiry, and he brings a hand to his chin, thinking of where to start.

“… it was… small. not the typical everyone-knows-each-other kind of small, but you couldn’t really go anywhere without running into someone you knew,” he begins, smiling a bit at the thought of home. there weren’t too many waiting for him back there - but that’s not to say he didn’t miss it at times.

“school was… school. not much different than here,” a shrug, and he looks out the window. “people are just as quick to cast rumors here and there. i had a few friends in different groups. nothing extensive.” gaze finally moves back to her, and he smiles. “it sounds kind of unoriginal, but, as different as it is, there’s a lot that’s the same. maybe one day, i can show you.”

          THE PAUSE PRIOR to speech does not go unnoticed by makoto -- eyes keen as ever, noticing even the petite details. she takes this moment to shift in her seat; opting to finally close the book in its entirety, placing it gently on the table in front, prior to settling back down. she lifts a leg this time, crossing one beneath the other for utmost comfort. 

          nevertheless, she stays quiet when he finally begins. her head nods along occasionally, maintaining attention to his words, though she does not interrupt. when he finishes, she is the one left to thought -- yet her pause is minimal, far from enough to cause any awkwardness (not that the concept existed as a worry nevertheless; the pair had long ago passed that stage in their friendship). 

          ❝ i see. ❞ initial musings came paired with a soft hum, indicating comprehension. she smiles a little at the offer, lips curved the slightest bit skywards. ❝ i would like that. i’ve always found other schools and their method of doing things fascinating. ❞ but moreso his, given just how mysterious their leader was, though she purposely ‘forgets’ to add that bit. 

the hoosier schoolboy.

          ❝ DO I DANCE? ❞ she repeats the words like a broken record, mouth laying agape for but a moment too long. although her composure resumes quick – mouth drawing into an forced line, furrowed brows indenting her forehead – the light tint of red across her cheeks is a dead giveaway to her response.

          no. no does she not.

          she’d attended the school event as per her duties as president, her role existing the same as every other time. her eye was to keep watch– to ensure students didn’t get into too much mischief, and whatnot. a simple enough task, and one she always did without second thought. 

          she didn’t need to know how to dance for that, right? 

          BREATH ESCAPES HER lips in something of an irritated sigh, slim physique conforming to the back of the chair as leans away dejectedly from the canvas laid in front of her. she places a still-clean brush back down on its ledge, allowing now free digits to reach for her forehead, rubbing her temples in attempts to yield the tension beginning to knot within. the action is futile, and all she can do is sigh again.

           she’d asked yusuke to meet not simply for company, but for the sake of expanding her horizons further -- through art, this time. although he’d blessed her with not only agreement, but with a free studio & utensils to paint, all she could come up with was after thirty minutes was -- big shock! -- a big, blank canvas full of nothing. 

          who knew art was this difficult? she truly was going nowhere with this.

          ❝ to be honest, ❞ she begins in finality, opting to break the silence. he was really focused, she could not help but note, and she feels a little guilty for shattering his concentration. ❝ i’m not quite sure where to start. ❞

the hoosier schoolboy.

          SHE WAS RIGHT, and this terrified makoto. it shook the queen to her very core – its talons wrapping their way around her spine, chilling her from inside out – despite how close they’ve come to this concept one too many times prior. despite how often they’d run into it within the metaverse, and despite her recognising this statement as fact ages before. 

          it terrified her because it reminded her of herself. with her own unsure path, the tightrope of justice that she walked; of a once plotted life cut out of the dictionary’s definition of normalcy now being torn to shreds. she did not want to become one who was defined by a single, fixed idea, especially not one twisted to such malicious desires as they’d seen. (she would not be one of those adults, a puppet on strings to her own cognition.)

          but makoto digresses, and keeps these thoughts to herself. her expression becomes something unreadable, her tone now firm.