Takao weaved in and out of the congealed throng of people in the hall, slowly but surely making his way towards his class. He usually made a point of avoiding people as much as he could, but he couldn't avoid it in this case since he had somewhere to be. Even now he could see the glow of some strange energy. He could hear the raised voices, and he could swear that he smelled something burning. It was inevitable earlier in the year that some fights would occur, mostly involving high-strung first years riled up by the student council's speech, or perhaps just anxious at being in a new environment. Either way, sparks start flying, fires blaze and Takao tries to stay out of the way. Thankfully, with many people jostling for better views, Takao could mostly move unimpeded.

He moved like a ghost through the crowded hall, ignoring the flashing lights and the people entirely. His parents would probably say that it was a bad habit of his to set people aside entirely, but he'd beg to differ. He'd leave them alone, they left him alone. There were always exceptions to that rule, of course, but generally speaking he'd keep his head down and keep going. His goal for the year was simple: pass the year with as good grades as he could manage and get some employability under his belt. It wouldn't be ideal but that was likely the best he would be able to manage.