#shsl open

Tanaka stared at the item in his hand. One of the Dark Gods, Maga-G, had proudly returned from exploring, dragging this.. thing with his teeth. Tanaka had no clue what to do with it; he couldn't give it back, since he didn't know to whom it belonged, but he also didn't want to just leave it laying around for anyone to find. He rubbed his face wearily.

"This is.. quite the predicament..." he muttered.

It had already been 5 minutes since a class break started, however Fukawa found themself wandering around the halls of the school again. They learned how to eat lunch quickly; that surrounding themself with a massive group of students wasn't their exact idea of peace. It made them feel too nervious for their own well being, even if it was during lunch time.

Naegi never really hung out in the North District except for whenever he had to go to gym (a dreadful experience, mind you), or whenever he volunteered to run an errand for someone when he happened to be in that area, but this is the first time he ventured beyond the second floor by himself.

The student found himself that day after school, upon suggestion, in what was known as the recreation room, a room he wondered how he could have missed hearing about on the extensive tour he was given...now that he thought about, he missed a lot of things, hell he was still carrying around a map by the first full month of school. What other amenities could this place possibly have? For a second he forgot he was in a teaching facility and not back at one of the summer camps he attended with his friends.

"..so they weren't lying about this place after all, huh."

Being a ghost, Leon found, wasn't nearly as bad as everyone made it out to be. Sure he couldn't touch and or pick anything up, but he didn't need to eat or sleep or anything of that nature, so it didn't really make much of a problem, except when Junko ordered him to do something (but that was a whole other issue). He also couldn't open doors, but he could pass through things, which came in handy for moving from room to room. Plus he could float, which was fucking awesome. He could float all the way up to the ceiling and come up through the floor of the next room if he wanted. Stairs had become a thing of the past for him!

Of course there were a few downsides, well, two to be exact. Those being that no one except Junko (that he knew of) could see or hear him. Which kinda sucked. Whatever, being a ghost was still pretty rad.

He did miss talking to people a bit, but scaring them was a hilariously amusing way to pass the time, so it didn't really bother him too much. Except at night when everyone was getting ready for bed, because he may have been a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he was no pervert. So he did his best to stay out of people's dorms, and not walk in (metaphorically of course, he couldn't really walk anymore) on someone changing or something.

Thus came his current predicament. Was it really a predicament? Well, it doesn't really matter does it? Whatever, he was incredibly bored. Everyone was getting ready to go to sleep, or they should have been at least, and, sticking to his policy, he had nothing to do. He was trying to avoid Junko for the moment, he didn't really care about having to be her butler, but she was getting to be more and more ridiculous. Though even with his firm policy in place, he still found himself wandering down the dorm halls. He hadn't been dead for very long; it must have been a habit.

He distinctly remembered the weatherman saying it was going to be sunny and warm all week.

He distinctly remembered how excited everyone was when the first couple of days it proved to be true, for it to finally be in the upper-70s which called for lunch allowed outside on the bleachers, and even the day before their world history teacher allowed them to have class on the lawns, a great change from being inside of that stuffy classroom.

Naegi had been betrayed by Mother Nature for the last time.

Now it was around 3:30pm and the boy was freezing his ass off, almost completely soaked head to toe from the pouring rain that managed to come down full force from the time he left the shelter near the track. He was offered an umbrella earlier but he didn't count on the sudden downpour he managed to get caught in. But, no worries! He was almost back at the main building--

Suddenly, a couple of 12th years ran into him (who, in their defense, were also making a dash for the entrance to the dormitories), knocking him into the mud and scattering his books about him.

..Naegi groaned and lifted his head from the ground, sputtering and spitting out the sludge that got into his mouth.

Ibuki stood back to admire the hand made sign she just put up, reading "Kissing Booth! $1 a Kiss." She smiled mischievously as she waited for the next class to get out so she could get some customers. Hopefully no one would notice she skipped class to set this up. A new guitar is more important than class anyway, right?

Of all the days Leon could have chosen to practice his guitar, he had to choose the day the heating in his dorm was getting fixed. Of course he did, because really, what was life without him making stupid decisions. And of course he had to be unbearably busy the entire rest of the week. Finals were coming up, and as much as he fucking hated studying, he did have to pass his classes. There's nothing punk about failing, so he was forced to find some empty classroom with thin walls. He'd probably get yelled at for being too loud. The teachers didn't understand; the music was supposed to be loud. That was the whole point.

He took his frustration out on the strings of his electric guitar (which he didn't have an amp for, unfortunately), which he'd learned to do through his late childhood. He liked the way the angry notes and chords ripped from the instrument in passionate, jagged shards. He could play slower, more painful songs of course, but he preferred more fast paced, heavier songs. He was able to convey more emotion through them.

He did play his guitar in his dorm quite a bit as well, but if he wanted to practice any of his songs, then he had to plan where, when, and for how long, otherwise it'd never get done. Most of the time he simply took out his frustration on his guitar, as he was doing now.