[B]MATSUOKA MINORU[/B]

Be still, my heart. Do not focus on how incredibly close Miss Hoshino had been to your face and how you could feel her breath on your ears ([color=00aeef]You're only focusing on it more, Matsuoka[/color]) or Cloacina's constant colour commentary. This entire situation really isn't what I had been expecting when I first entered the simulator rooms; certainly, the future I had originally envisaged did not contain two irritated upperclassmen and being lectured by a pretty teacher-[i]ack[/i] ([color=00aeef]=D[/color]). I flush again, taking two quick rapid steps backwards before I embarrass myself further. I will not be able to uphold the faith the bigwigs have in their students in this manner!

It's absolutely necessary that I find a way out of these circumstances, and I am immensely thankful for the interruption of the newest person to enter the room. I try my best to control the rapid beating of my heart as I turn to the face the girl who had just addressed me; hopefully the redness of my face has died down but if the heat in my cheeks is any indication it's likely still, to use the American expression, a mere stone's throw away from the DPRK in colour.

[color=00aeef]You truly have the strangest of metaphors, Matsuoka.[/color]

Rogue states aside, I immediately take in the new girl's appearance. Her ponytailed-hair is a warm, chestnut brown, a shade uncommon to those with clearly Japanese features like her. Those golden - maybe amber -  eyes are quite evident as well. Maybe she has foreign blood in there? She's definitely of a greater height than most girls I've met, although that could be chalked up to the way she carries herself. Does she do sports, then?

More importantly, that accent of hers is faint, but I would recognise another one of us anywhere.

"[color=00a651]Amagasaki, yeah,[/color]" I reply, failing to keep my lips from quirking up into a small smile. "[color=00a651]Guessin' yer from Kobe then, mate?[/color]"