陰•陽•師

There’s the distant sound of talking in the hall, further down. The classroom is unlocked, but nobody will be entering.

He sits like he’s on a throne, ankles crossed and hands steady at his side, and she should know it, knows he’s always felt the diadem on his skull and envisioned himself in black, forging the stars she can read. Their height has him looking downward at her, but be it mountain or seat, he is beyond them all.

She doesn’t keep decorations in this, her little domain of an unneeded classroom. No silk shawls or special mats, no crystal balls or paper fortunes. No unnecessary accouterments to her gift-- or at least, not outside the exam room. When there’s no need to show off, it’s just her and her all-seeing eyes, wide and childish and fixated on him with a hunger that ekes unaccountably into something inhumane; a plane just beyond her that watches him through her eyes.

“Sure do,” She breathes, and sways forward, elbows on her knees and little chin on cupped palms. Not quite like kneeling, but then his royalty is future-tense; Hope’s Peak is dying, but not yet dead.

“Not with cards, or anything,” Ah-- there it is. Her well-earned pride, bled in around the corners of reverence, around the folded-sharp corners of bright and bloody futures and presents. Not snobbish, not snide. This isn’t a face that’s familiar to those who know Saionji even in passing. But then, who here at this school will ever do anything to earn her respect? “But this platform-- she does readings.”

may tanaka’s light shine upon you all.

( she shrieks as he lifts her, more fear of heights than excitement; wobbles a little trying to catch her balance. her bag really is caught-- two sharp tugs brings it tumbling into her arms, the slim branch it was trapped on snapping as it comes down. she teeters again -- god, saionji’s balance is shit -- an excited holler escaping her, and hunches down to shout at oowada. )

( despite her snide tone, she’s still grinning-- sickening, just a little gooey. that coquettish, bitchy half-charm’s never quite worked in her favor, but damn if it doesn’t look natural. )

Big sis was just climbing. You can get into the Reserves Pen from the top, did you know? Dunno why anyone would wanna, but let’s make that our little secret. They might cut down the branch if you snitch, so don’t.

        “ SYSTEM ERROR. REBOOT?

                                      CODE: NANAMI_CHIAKI.EXE

        TITLE: RESERVE COURSE STUDENT.

                                       REBOOT COMPLETE!  ”

She slides into a seat opposite Saionji in the crowded lunch square, casting an unsubtle look at the circle of space still anxiously cleared around them. The fortune-teller hasn’t gotten any kinder with time. Her eyes are still too dark, her smile still too sharp, her aura projecting a 100pt font ‘BITCH’ clear enough for anyone with survival instincts to read.

Good thing Mukuro has something more intimidating than Saionji to contend with on a regular basis, something cloying and ugly and pixel-perfect that sits between them like a phonecharm and spins the balance back around. She’s not stupid enough to say anything, but it’s well-recorded that her sister has been getting hairstyle tips from the monster opposite her. Not so unlikely that Mukuro would try the same thing. Where one goes, the other always follows.

Ah, the “wants something” seat. It’s really a blue-moon type deal, that Saionji ever doesn’t eat alone; lunch is when Mahiru meets her agent, see, and Nidai’s always out under the trees feeding baby birds or some philanthropic horseshit like that. Beyond that... well. This is Hope’s Peak Academy, not Hope’s Best Friends Academy. The other talents can clique up all they want, can look at her with whatever eyes they think she notices at all. It’s none of Hiyoko’s business.

And she likes being a walking schoolyard cliche. It lends her an aura of importance, those rare times someone braves the blast zone to meet her out in the open like this, and she can lean forward on her elbows like she matters. Even if it’s just for “fashion”, it’s still fun.

I never thought of that, just another mess up to add onto the list. This body moves on its own even when I don’t want it to, it’s truly disgusting. 

God big bro, you're really a depressing piece of shit, you know that? Bet you do! Bet I'm not telling you anything you haven't already practiced in the mirror 'til it lost any meaning at all, and you could just agree with it like the pathetic worm you are!