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playful_weasel November 7 2007, 21:20:45 UTC
Misao's head snapped up when he heard the familiar voice and the soft knock. She quickly recognized it as Azuma's voice. Brushing a strand of long dark hair behind her ear, she straightened up as she finished putting on a silver necklace that had once belonged to her mother. The little round locket hanging from the necklace held the picture of her parents and her when she was barely one. It was one of the few things that she had left of her parents and she cherished it very much. Casting one last glance at the picture, she closed the locket and allowed the chain to fall against her clothed chest ( ... )

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2faced_flutist November 7 2007, 22:13:30 UTC
He wished that she would just hurry up. People were watching. It was really a mystery for him why girls really took so long to change. Azuma was the type to prepare his clothes the night before. But when she finally came out, she at least made it worth the wait. She looked cute in a tomboyish way but he always disliked girls that were too feminine. But he would rather die than EVER admit that to her ( ... )

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playful_weasel November 8 2007, 00:08:48 UTC
Funny enough it seemed that she had gotten used to Azuma' manners. She neither flinched nor did she back away when he touched her hair. There weren't any signs of being uncomfortable either, instead she found it normal...and she also realized that she might just be getting weirder. A small smile was her response to his compliment, if you could call it that, not to mention she doubted he meant what he said...and yet she didn't care. This was just a game to both of them and she would not take him seriously ( ... )

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2faced_flutist November 8 2007, 00:59:23 UTC
"My apologies, Misao. I had some Student Council work to do and I didn't want to keep a lady waiting," he said, bowing gracefully. At her compliment, he gave a radiant smile. "Thank you, that is very nice of you." But he knew that she wasn't very serious about it. They were the same. They were playing a game.

He followed her gaze to a couple of girls behind him. They didn't look like the girls that usually followed him, nor did they look like one of the Angels, well... more like demons actually. He hoped that they were just curious onlookers. He bent down and whispered, "Let's get out of here before they start playing detective." There were obvious traces of irritation in his voice.

He rolled his eyes at the mention of the Angels. "Please don't remind me. They have been giving me trouble since I arrived here," then he grinned. "Besides, you don't really care about being hated, do you? I think you rather like the idea of being hated by those... brainless, zombie fangirls...."

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