#lustraveil

The earthbender sidled on over as nonchalantly as he possibly could, lacing his hands behind his neck while he stood in an oh-so-casual way that wasn't actually as casual as he thought. "Soooo... remind me: how long have you known Korra?"

Suguru Geto, Special Grade; his rumoured technique was one hell of an OP ability if true. His cursed energy was unrefined but stood out so starkly in a sea of mediocre sorcerers and Satoru couldn't help but feel excitement at the raw potential before him. But something felt wrong with him. From the first words out of his mouth, it was clear that this was some normie who understood nothing about what it meant to be a sorcerer; what it meant to have power, what it meant to wield violence, and of what little consequence all else is.

He wanted to teach this guy a lesson. He wanted to see what this Suguru is really made of. He needed this boy to understand the position that they were in. ( suguru could maybe one day be an equal, if he does not give in to whatever soft ass shit his non-sorcerer parents must have coddled him with. )

"Oh shut up, why are you even bothering with her?" Satoru shoved the girl in their class aside, interrupting the two's casual introductions. He did not pull the force of his strike, and did not even bother to look as she crashed into a nearby table ( and he did not hear her grunt of pain and indignant protest ) and he reached to grab at the front of Suguru's uniform instead.

"MAYBE,  just  MAYBE  if  you  ask  me  out  on  a  PROPER  DATE,  I'll  think  about  it."

skidding to a stop, petra leaps up onto the ledge of the building where the curse had dived over, her gaze flickering around the world below until geto suguru, her senior, points out where the curse was, giggling manically and weaving its way through people below. they'd chased the curse all the way from an abandoned hospital to here, where it had given them the slip onto a main road, bustling with normal civilians. that doesn't seem to stop petra, however, as she's ready to leap from the building. she moves forward, ready to spring from the rooftop, until a strong arm reaches out and wraps around her waist, reeling her back in. the force behind it has them both stumbling back from the edge.

" no, it's too public. "

his arm is removed from her waist, and the ravenette pauses, just staring up at the boy who has more experience than her, is of a higher grade than her, and is overall, just better at this than her. but what could she expect? this was geto suguru. the fact that they were even put together for a mission seemed like a mistake, yet yaga reassured her it was done on purpose. now she thinks she understands why.

it is a temporary transfer. that is what gakuganji had told her the evening before. utahime is a kind soul. fresh into teaching for kyoto and thriving at it. to think she would have been the prized pony of that campus if not for the scar on her face. finally healed like molted plastic that's hardened in jagged edges. thankfully, her students are too sweet to comment on it. though their gazes linger every so often when they think she isn't looking. she holds her duffel over an arm, the skin of her shoulder under kosode rubbed raw from the strap's unrelenting friction during the walk from the train over to campus.

iori stands tall, boots clacking with every step as she reaches the dormitory halls. then she spots him. hunched over and hair amuck. no coy grin. no sharp stare. a kohai's husk. lips curl downwards, hand reaching out but not quite touching, ❛ what's happened? ❜