kung fu!

     That first part may not be all that attainable for someone like Hibiki, but the second part had tragically become an overabundant staple of her every day life, much to the chagrin of her lovely, lovely girlfriend.

     “Guess that means I’ve still got plenty of training before I surpass the master.” Hibiki grins, a fist held tight in determination. After a moment, she blinks and adds, “Ah… oh! This actually reminds me, I wanted to ask you for some advice the other day but I never got a chance… you don’t mind, d’you?”

 “Of course. Anything for my apprentice.” in terms of strength without symphogear, one that he gratefully managed to get [his vocal cord training had increased tragically]. Though if the question had something to do with love, he’s out unless you count the time he was in love with the priestess of the moon! 

     She’s not too sure about that. Not that hard… how many times had she stopped by to try and win that plushie for Miku anyways? Way more paychecks-worth than she should have, that was for sure. Instead, Hibiki is left to groan in defeat as her head lolls to the side.

     “Commander, how did you get so good at everything?”

 “Bloodline genetic tampering.” he whispers but than louder. 

 “Be one with the crane!”

Despite his loud announcement, there was gentle movements as he presses the button, the crane itself expertly grabbing a plushie and depositing it into his hand. 

“yeah?” he snorts. that isn’t an answer he’s ever considered, but he’s amused by it nonetheless. his own comebacks to those curious about his hair usually depends on who he’s talking to, and how sober he is.  “that’s creative. i usually just tell them i got it from my parents, obviously.”

again, the attitude of it varying.

“sometimes when a woman asks, i’ll assure her it’ll take a few generations for it to fade out. you’d be surprised how many aren’t thrilled by that.”

 “I know right.” being someone of a son from a person who valued japanese culture to a vicious extent, his red hair made him stand out in more ways than one, especially to the elite school he was sent to. the elite of japanese traditionalism, at times forced to dye his hair. 

oh...starter call! also me

thinking what the heck