[h2]Sasaki Kirima - Hunger Pangs[/h2]
Now free from the confines of the stuffy meeting room, Sasaki Kirima took the tube a few stations down, standing uncomfortably between several people as he did so, and took the short walk from the station to the Seneca Institute Orphanage’s research facility. Though these days he played the part of proxy more than researcher, Seneca was his homeground, and so he found himself rushing just a bit more than usual to get back to his comfort zone. 

Even if he was old enough to realize that his comfort zone wasn’t all that comforting at all.

At his side, he felt a buzz and fished out the watch from his pocket - one of the two D-Watches in his possession. 

Altering his course to park himself to the side of a building and out of the way of walking pedestrians, the giant silently assessed and reassessed the message he’d been sent by the colder-but-not-colder Tsurara twin. With a sigh, he began composing a response of his own:

[quote=D-Watch SMS // Username: KirimaS -> Username: I'mTooCoolForU ]This is a work-only line.[/quote]

He stuffed the watch back into his pocket. 
[hr]
Now back in the Institute, Sasaki Kirima took a seat in the staff canteen and set down the brown bag and drink that the secretary up at front had given him. “Another gift from your Level 10 friend,” he’d been told once again. She’d been doing this for a few weeks now, and never once had he managed to catch her in the act. Although it definitely would have been much simpler to just get Adam Pride to do him a solid for once, but there was some part of him that wouldn’t be pleased with that kind of resolution.

(Besides, letting that man have any more over him than he did now would be a [i]nightmare[/i].) 

At any rate, doing things the complicated way had always been a mainstay of his repertoire. Or maybe he was just so much of a masochist that the path of most resistance seemed to be the best idea. 

He took a bite out of the sandwich. [i]‘This...’[/i] He narrowed his eyes, his mouth became still, and his eyes stared into the sandwich. [i]’...is good.’[/i] That was the best he could come up with; Sasaki wasn’t much of a food aficionado despite his large capacity for consumption.

Across the table, someone took a seat.

“Good morning,” Sasaki greeted in slightly eclectically accented English. He took another bite of the sandwich and raising his gaze to meet the individual, “First month is over. Are you adjusting well?” 

The individual across from him was Amara Hahn, one of the Institute’s recent hirees. From his understanding, she was transferred from some German research facility, and assigned to mentor a group of the Institute’s children while using her findings with them for a project of some sort related to ESP development. She was also one of the few individuals that possessed a roughly similar age, and the only one who got the same lunch time. . 

“Did you hear that a Level 10 stopped by again? Dam-err-arn, I wish she was more consistent so I could get the kids to see that.”

There was a distinct pause before Sasaki answered with: “I see.”

“You saw? Or… do you mean understand?”

“Uh… Yes. Second.” 

Amara put a hand to her chin. “I wonder what she always comes here for...”

He shrugged and remained silent. As far as his platonic relationship with the Songbird went, that was something he’d much prefer to keep on a need to know basis. It puts less of a target on his head, on many different levels. He crumpled the sandwich ziplock and began going for the apple slices.

“Ah, whatever. I bet’cha she’s got a good reason. None of my business anyway. Speaking of business, that kid of yours is trying to get into ENMA, right?”

He nodded, too busy stuffing himself with the slices to speak. He’d always loved the more zesty kinds of flavours.

“Well, good luck to him. I tried getting in and my instructor for the entrance test was [i]way[/i] too severe. Most of my class didn’t even pass!”

She tilted her head and eyed the giant, who was channeling his inner furnace to consume the lemon-drenched apples.

“....Are those really that good? May I…?”

Sasaki pulled the bag closer to himself and stared at her with a blank expression. The sentiment was clear.

“That good, huh?”

That good.
[h2]Mika Alkaev - Uncertainty[/h2]
Mika stared into the window, looking not at the city skyline, but at his own image reflected in the glass. [i]'Yeah, still feels a tad tight,'[/i] he thought as he moved his arms around, watching how the white uniform hugged the contours of his slim body, [i]’Or maybe it’s just me…’[/i] 

After Professor Namashiya had set the class of hopefuls loose, the Russian esper had opted to take the uniform out on a test run. Overall, the uniform worked as promised, though he hadn’t gotten around to testing out the limits of the resistances. Given his nature, that was probably a good thing.

Still, not even three hours and his formerly-pristine white university-hopeful uniform had already been dirtied up. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he dusted off his thighs - a token, but ultimately useless action if getting his clothes clean was the goal. Dark and dusty streaks and splotches marred the lower half of his uniform, reinforcing the second-class image traditionally associated with children from the Institute. 

[i]‘I wonder if you’re supposed to put these in the clothes washer or get them dry cleaned...’[/i] Mika hoped that Sasaki would know; he was always better at those sorts of things than he was, and showing up all filthy wasn’t the hallmark of someone who could impress a Level 10.

Speaking of which, Mika sighed and scratched his head. The terms of the entrance examination were really frustrating. As far as he knew, his options were a bit bleak. He puffed out his cheeks and wordlessly stared into the reflection, silently questioning himself. But the more he thought about it, the more grounded he was in the opinion that everything he was good for wasn’t really applicable in this sort of setting. 

At least he hadn’t gotten into a fight like those two scoldees from earlier, but now that he knew her stance on fighting, an entirely [i]different[/i] problem presented himself.

“NNNNNNNNNH… I told him this was a bad ideaaaaaaaaaa,” he muttered, frustratedly stamping his feet on the ground with characteristic rapidity. His expeditious mind was little help as it began generating a deluge of possible ways he could fail to succeed in his endeavour. Then, as quickly as it came, it left. Mika balled up his hands, forced his mouth into a hard line, and steeled his admittedly rather unreliable resolve. 

“I’ll just ask her for advice.” There was a distinct pause. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Mika broke off into a preternatural sprint towards the central campus building.
[hr]
Figuring that the lunch room would be the best place to look for someone at lunch time, Mika stepped into the canteen and took a quick glance around the premises, searching for his telekinetic teacher. It didn’t take so long, given that she was surrounded by a group of people.  

Now that he thought about it, Kotori was a Level 10 and a teacher; Mika supposed he couldn’t have honestly expected her to be completely available at all times, let alone lunch hour when [i]everyone[/i] was free. Thus, he stood awkwardly behind everyone, waiting for his moment.

And then he left.