Although that mightn't have been the case had Hakuren arrived ten seconds later.]
Oh, uh.
[Even the words sound jerky, the verbal equivalent of a guilty start. Should Hakuren look for its source, he'll find on one side of the room: one of those large dorm windows opened to its measly allowance of two inches. Silhouetted against the window, a boy. On that boy, the sheepish look of somebody with a lot to explain, but no appropriate words to do it with—and also some kind of weird wheeled shoes, one of which he's got braced against the window frame.
There's no mistaking he was about to kick it the rest of the way open.
Down comes the foot. Up goes a hand in awkward greeting. Kazu shuffles a bit and then, in what appears to be a hasty afterthought, scrubs at the scruff mark left by his wheels with a sleeve.
no subject
Although that mightn't have been the case had Hakuren arrived ten seconds later.]
Oh, uh.
[Even the words sound jerky, the verbal equivalent of a guilty start. Should Hakuren look for its source, he'll find on one side of the room: one of those large dorm windows opened to its measly allowance of two inches. Silhouetted against the window, a boy. On that boy, the sheepish look of somebody with a lot to explain, but no appropriate words to do it with—and also some kind of weird wheeled shoes, one of which he's got braced against the window frame.
There's no mistaking he was about to kick it the rest of the way open.
Down comes the foot. Up goes a hand in awkward greeting. Kazu shuffles a bit and then, in what appears to be a hasty afterthought, scrubs at the scruff mark left by his wheels with a sleeve.
It doesn't go away.]
...Hey.