[h3][b]Sato Hashimoto[/b]
// [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5stt_0OpY4]Warakuma High, Class 3-3[/url][/h3]
Sato found himself still in his seat even after everyone else had left the room. There was a strange lack of motivation in the boy, as he was usually fairly dedicated enough to force himself to attend Archery or whatever. Missing one day seemed trivial after his near-perfect attendance over the time he’s been in the Archery club. So when he finally worked up the energy to get up, the teen made his way down to the front entrance and walked away from the school, which felt vaguely wrong when he noticed a few familiar faces headed towards the range. And he even stopped himself in his tracks when he noticed a particularly familiar face.

Not anyone of any real relevance to him, but he had known the guy that approached him since Day 1 of attending Warakuma High, and he seemed nice enough. So Sato nodded along when the boy talked to Sato about how he noticed he was leaving instead of heading off to Archery. And he nodded when he suggested attending anyway, and he nodded when he was dragged off to the range by the arm. 

And he nodded when he saw a rather common scene unfolding. A bunch of the third-years were crowded around a section of the shooting range, likely doing some kind of tournament thing they had done a week before. It seemed third-year exclusive however, and Sato [i]really[/i] did not feel like dealing with that kind of stuff at the moment. So he plopped down against whatever wall he found himself sitting against and stared around the range. Rokoru was wondering about the place, his usually cold eyes peering about for something (or someone), while Mika and her new-found crew of to-be revolutionaries where laughing about while lazily practicing. Yet another slow day. For the third years, at least. Most of the first years were still motivated enough to consistently practice hard, and some of the particularly dedicated second and third year students were tutoring them. Everyone else was either lazing about or spectating/participating in the pseudo-tournament.

[hr]
[h3][b]Rokoru Ishiara[/b]
// [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-Hv_SjVt3Y]Warakuma High, Archery Range[/url][/h3]
Having woken up late for school (a thing that his parents didn’t taken kindly to), Rokoru had rushed on his uniform, downed the quickest breakfast he could muster, and ran to school as fast as he could. In the process he had forgotten one of the key things he always took with him to Archery team: his bow. Naturally, the range had its own equipment for everyone to use, but Rokoru always thought they were all shoddy in varying ways and affected his shooting. He had bought his own a while ago, and to say the least, he was far from regretting.

Rokoru was pretty against using the school bows after having used his own for a while, so he resigned himself to simply helping out his underclassmen. Some of the newer club members were still struggling, so he figured that it’d be a good use of time. The well-being of the club was high in his priorities, and upping the general skill level of the club was a part of its well-being to him.