#sightsealed

Was that...?

Taking a pause to look over the railing on the way to work, he watched the familiar gait of the person below him. Hands in his pockets, bright eyes looking around, taking long, confident strides... And his clothes were all too familiar, too.

“Sanageyama...?”

It was said more to himself than anyone in particular. Sure, people had come and go in the city, and illusions happened enough not to be ruled out as possibilities. But...

--No. He couldn’t contain it any longer. Leaning over the bridge, the tailor yanked his mask down his face, took a deep breath, and cupped his hands over his mouth to shout below.

“SANAGEYAMA!”

That’s... well. He can’t say it’s his bed, really. Iori did say it was a guest room.

But it had definitely started to reflect his presence in it lately. The curtains were dark enough to block out the light the way he liked, and the navy blue blanket was heavily weighted and always folded neatly at the foot of the bed when it wasn’t in use. 

Still, Yuan is a little surprised at the flare of possessiveness he feels at the sight of a stranger asleep in the bed-that-wasn’t-his. 

His brow furrows. He’s half-tempted to get a cup and dump water on the stranger’s face, but he knows better than to listen to the temptation. This is probably someone Iori knows, so he should be courteous. 

Besides, he doesn’t want to get his pillow soaked.

At least, it seemed that way to him. One leg dangled over the other as he sat up on a ledge, fiddling with his phone.

“In the grand scheme of things, I find this little exam to be a fascinating way to quash any kind of believe that the student body deserves to be an Elite.” Younger, just as arrogant, Inumuta Houka looked down at Iori Shirou and Uzu Sanageyama.

“As well as a way to weed out any kind of statistical anomaly. Although we certainly know the capabilities of most of the student body on a finite, biological level,” 

“This is still a fun way to doubley prove a theory like that.” Sanageyama looked impatient, which was logical, as he was really only talking to Iori.

“Oh, stop pacing, someone will come and try and kill him soon enough.”

        “i gotta say, you’re a pretty decent runner. probably not as fast as me but still. i almost collided with you for a minute there if i realized it too late.” if he was going to be forced to occupy this strange place, he might as well get some training in by going out for a long jog instead of doing absolutely nothing anyway. the guy in front of him definitely intrigued him to some degree. what about this guy that interested him exactly? hmm. “jogging in those clothes, you’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

❝ Not bad. Not bad at all. But not exactly good either! ❞

LOADING. . . 

His program popped up the names of those who had left the island (well, the phone registry, let’s only feign omnipotence here), as well as those who had arrived. It was easier to note when eclipses happened, he mused, slurping up tonight’s (this morning’s?) without much dignity.

One stray noodle hanging, he took a break from his work to look at the numbers coming in and out, and...

Speaking of undignified, he jumped out of his chair. No way, it had been...

About a year? At least, since Sanageyama Uzu was here last. Grabbing his uniform, he set the noodles aside and bolted toward the platform. Hopping on his hoverboard, he opened the real time feed of his phone to see where that specific cell phone was headed. Fibonacci, it seemed.

Bypassing traffic to go to the housing, he ran down his list of recent in’s and out’s 130s and 140s this time - there was a discernible pattern, and once nameplates were checked on some ten or so of the hoses, he found the name.

Thus, he was waiting at the house before Sanageyama could even get there.

Welcome!

You'll be staying in HOUSE 138!

You'll be able to use your tengantsu five times a day to predict up to five seconds of movement from another person.

You'll be given a wooden sword.

Enjoy your stay!