Interrupted conversations continue.
Current IC time is: Sat Nov 02 14:06:37 2002 - Day
Roof
The roof of Eriol Gakuen main building is empty, save for the pipes and water tanks which have something to do with the school’s heating and water supply system. There isn’t much of anything else here, actually, save for the tall wire mesh fence, preventing any and all attempts at jumping to your death below. That leaves the view from the roof being it’s most interesting feature. From this vantage point, you san see as far as Meguro, and the skyscrapers of Ginza glitter in the distance.
Only the overall dampness in the air and a layer of clouds in the sky reminds that autumn is here to stay, and the typical autumn chills make t-shirts well out of season.
Rika
This girl fits the textbook definition of ‘cute redhead’, and while she’s unmistakably asian, her relatively pale skin and dark green eyes, coupled with flaming red hair cut in a pageboy style make it easy to forget about it, especially since there’s no sign of hair dye. She does seem to wear some makeup on her face, still posessed of soft, childlike features, but it’s hard to trace just what did she do with it - there isn’t much. Overally, she resembles a fox - lithe and slim, and generally small, since she’s rather short.
She is dressed in the Eriol Gakuen girl’s uniform - white jacket with blue sailor flap and cuffs, not to mention the tacky crown-shaped medal, white and blue short skirt and the long blue stockings with regulation white shoes. She looks unsurprisingly feminine and attractive in this attire, which was probably the initial idea. She’s dragging around a thick cloth bookbag, and a tiny Minolta Dimage Xi digital camera is hanging on her neck on a chain.
An unusual hairband rests upon her hair - a silvery, thickish metallic object with glistening chrome parts. It looks very pretty, almost like jewelry, but very weird. And it has leds.
Rika is standing by the edge of the roof, staring out into the yellowing trees of the school yard, quiet, arms folded on her chest, since it’s kinda chilly to stand here like this in just a school uniform. Her bookbag sits idly nearby, as if dropped… maybe tossed violently, too, Rika doesn’t particularily adore her bag despite the kind of things she carries inside.
Emiko
This young woman is slight of build and possesses a beauty that belies her age. Straight, shoulder-length blonde hair is styled to frame the curve of her face and strikes a light contrast to the pale golden complexion of her Asian heritage. Perched atop her small nose is a pair of thin, rectangular framed glasses with deep rose hued lenses that slightly obscure the striking hazel of her eyes.
She wears an ivory white angora sweater with a wide ribbed turtleneck collar that easily reaches her chin. The cuffs of the sleeves are a similar ribbed texture unlike the rest of the fuzzy top. Its bottom stops short of her waistline, showing off her athletic midriff which is encircled by a small silver chain that has a small dangling medallion that sways to and fro with her steps. The blue denim of her jeans begin just below her narrow waistline, fitting snugly through her long leg’s hips and thighs but flares out to the frayed bell bottoms that all but obscure the old and scuffed black doc martens on her feet. She wears multiple rings on many fingers of both hands, from simple bands to more intricate ones with expensive looking gemstones.
Emiko rounds one of the pipes, working her way through the small maze to find an edge of the roof with a view. She’s carrying her school satchel slung crosswise over her left shoulder, though is not in her school uniform. Rika seems quite introspective, and once Emiko notices her she consider leaving the other teen to her thoughts. Just as she’s turning to leave, her satchel knocks along a nearby pipe causing the metal clasps to clang somewhat audibly. She pauses, surely found out and turns back to face the impending reaction of the other roof occupant.
beep goes the hairband on Rika’s head. As if to punctuate this beep, Rika’s hand with the tiny Minolta in it rises above her shoulder and presses the button. beep snip goes the small chromed box. Only when this is done, Rika herself turns around and smiles to the new girl, “Hello.”
“Oh,” Emiko starts with a smile and adds a small wave, “Konnichiwa.” She pulls her satchel to her side with the other hand so it’ll stop clanging against the pipe and approaches the girl whom the school paper staff will not talk to. “Are you admiring the view?”
Rika chuckles, “Does the view care? Maybe it’s admiring me instead?” she says cryptically. “I’m watching.” she adds after a brief pause and glances back towards the view of the scantily populated schoolyard. “Did you ever notice that people almost never look up?” she asks, tossing a curious appraising glance across Emiko, as if this was a trick question. Or maybe a secret masonic password.
Emiko offers a small chuckle of her own in response to Rika’s first remark and looks out and into the schoolyard below, “Actually, I never really thought about that but I suppose you’re right.” She also observes children dashing about below, and not a one had looked up in the minute or so she’s been there. “Maeki-san, ne?” she asks politely of the younger girl, trying to recall her name though she certainly does remember her from the other day.
Rika half-nods to confirm the memory, punctuating this gesture with a short “Goto-san.” Glancing back at the yard again, she comments, “Not only up, actually, but upwards is the direction people pay the least attention to. Maybe not directly upwards. Some people do look at the sky. These are kinda rare though.” she says in the same cryptic tone, not hinting at any meaning beyond the literal.
“Unn,” Emiko nods in agreement with the younger girls assessment while she also watches those below. Another moment of silence passes between the two, and she remarks, “You are very observant.” It seems as if there’s something else Emiko wishes to say, but just leaves it at that for the moment.
Rika chuckles. “I just have more eyes than most people.” Rika says, going silent for a long while. One thing introverted weirdos like her are good at is sensing when it’s time to listen, and no sound comes out of Rika except the faint hiss of the girl’s breathing obscured by the flow of the autumn wind.
The silence continues for a bit longer, becoming a little awkward for Emiko since she is somewhat unaccustomed to it. However, lately she has been appreciating her silence and privacy much more than when she was in America. “Ano…” she breaks the silence and continues in a sincere tone, “I just wanted to say that Sadate-kun was a little harsh with you the other day.” She said it, and while she has just accepted a friendship with the rough girl last night even she admitted as much. Never-the-less, she feels that Nanako did not mean any real harm from her comments to Rika and states, “Though I’m sure she was trying to be helpful… in her own way.”
Rika shrugs silently and stays silent for a couple seconds before answering, “I’m sure that when the government says that Onmyoryo no longer exists, they’re also trying to be helpful. Wishing to protect people is the first step that brings you on the road of good intentions that pave the way to hell.” she responds in a level voice, calm as if she says such things a hundred times before lunch every other day anyway. Glancing back at Emiko she adds, “There’s many ways to interpret what she said, and many reasons to say what she did, some of them good. Most not. But from past experience, I know that the next step is when people start trying to smash your camera.”
Emiko is somewhat surprised by the depth or Rika’s answer, so much so that she can only offer silence as a reply. She stands there for a few more moments, in silence, watching the schoolyard below and looking up to the sky for a moment before turning to Rika, “Well, Maeki-san… if you’d like to show me some of your photos sometime, I would be very appreciative.” She adds with a bit of a gesture towards Rika, “I mean… if you would not mind.” At this point, she snaps to look behind her at the opening door.
Nanako
Surpassing the average Nihon girl in height, if not weight, Nanako appears best characterized as a sullen beanpole. About 172cm, she carries a trim frame with somewhat stiff, precise movements, as though her mind were perpetually elsewhere and detests distractions. Her hair, black and fine as typical of her ethnicity, falls to mid-back in a meticulously woven braid, with short bangs crossing her brow. Her light amber eyes constantly dart with both intelligence and acuity, and the leaden, firm attention of a lifetime watcher. Her voice is light, but murmured, as though stirred from sleep. While her movements are staid and concise, they carry a measure of tension or anxiety, as though time were always wasting, and an appointment always looming ahead.
A plain white shirt, of the long-sleeved button-down collared variety, hangs squarely to her upper body, tucked into a pair of rather tight, form-fitting blue jeans. They remain tailored rather closely to her until flaring slightly at the hem; a patch of a large yellow flower is prominently seated on the rear left pocket. Plain, inexpensive cotton stretch socks and a pair of battered white track-style sneakers complete the outfit.
Nanako swings open the door to the roof, amidst loud, boisterous voices- in casual clothes, beside the large, jumpsuit-clad form of the creepy head janitor. Mr. Huang. Its difficult to tell which voice is which- talking in lowbrow tones in what is likely Chinese or Korean, they work together carrying the large, heavy case of an heater compressor up the stairs and out onto the roof. She glances over her shoulder and sees the two students, giving them both looks of recognition, and Emiko a nod, before continuing to backpedal out onto the roof. Mr. Huang makes a few grunting noises and rolls his lazy eye over the girls, grinning lasciviously. Neither ask any of the other students to leave.
Rika adds a single, cryptic word, “Always.” before turning around to glance at who just came in. She meets Nanako’s eyes for a brief instant and lets the glance slide off as if she saw nothing of interest. “My email is rika@shinka.co.jp. Send me a word sometime.” she tosses to Emiko and bends down to grab her bag off the floor. Her weird hairband gadget blinks a few leds but doesn’t beep… looks like it’s doing something, but what could it be?
Nanako tenses internally as she feels Rika’s hostility slip over her like oil, and commits the girl’s email to memory, in case she causes any more trouble down the line. She falls silent, letting Mr. Huang prattle on about something that’s accompanied by guffawing laughter, as they heft the compressor across the roof and slide it into one of the heating elements rising up from the tarred and gravelled surface. Once its slid into its molding, with numerous loud, metal clangs, the janitor gives Nanako a rough, mannish slap on the back and a few choice words, to which she replies curtly, whereupon he lumbers off to ply his craft elsewhere in the school, giving Emiko and Rika each a last, leering look, and leaving Nanako to begin installing the compressor with a small sachel of greasy tools.
As if this scene could be any more awkward, the tension between Rika and Nanako couldn’t be cut with the sharpest samurai katana. Emiko is the ‘innocent bystander’ only able to watch on the sideline until something happens. Her eyes do roam back to the strange janitor, his looks causing her to cover her midriff by bringing the leather satchel slung over her shoulder to rest against her stomach. She calls after Rika, “Hai, Maeki-san. Arigatou.”
Rika tosses a quick ironic half-smile back at Emiko over her shoulder before making her way to the door, past Nanako, outwardly not noticing the girl but you could probably see the air between them crackling with static electricity if you had more imagination. Odd. Even around her archrival, Toyomiko, Rika doesn’t behave so tensely. “See you.” she says to nobody in particular, glancing down at the door handle, smiling inwardly, turning it and disappearing behind the door.
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