[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/502891015976517653/504959855229009932/GoroDogorasu.png[/img]
[@Delta44] [@ShwiggityShwah] [@Stern Algorithm] [@Scribe of Thoth] 
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Seconds spent waiting, particularly for something important, felt like hours. Everyone knew it, and if standing around for a minute or thirty seconds watching something slowly spin in a microwave prickled one's patience, waiting for the most significant letter of one's life was positively enervating. After a while, Goro left his family's tiny apartment and found refuge in his happy place, the spot of tranquility—his rooftop garden. There, among the sweet potatoes, radishes, turnips, carrots, taro, and cabbage, he whiled away those heavy seconds.

After who knew how long, the stairwell door burst open, drawing Goro's glow like an escaping convict did a spotlight. There, partially silhouetted against the flickering yellow stair light, stood Goro's father. Lean, bedraggled, and prematurely balding, Dogorasu Seiha nevertheless gave off an air of optimism, of hurt but unbroken spirit, and it shone brightly now. Without a word, Goro rushed over, his feet pounding the concrete of the roof. He took the unopened letter from his dad's hand, washing it in his light, and slid a finger through the seam to tear it open all the faster. Holding it so that Seiha could see, the young man absorbed every word, drinking it in as a true believer might a prophecy. Its words, after all, would define his future; either his dream to brighten the world of heroes ended here, or Dogorasu Goro had taken his first step on the glorious path.

The message did not mince words, and in short order the two men were overcome with elation. In the silence that followed, only one noise made itself known: a heart release of bated breath. No words were necessary; Goro and his dad came together in the hardest, most visceral hug they'd ever exchanged. Eyes screwed shut, he beamed at the murky sky, a stream of joyous illumination lighting up the heavens for any who cared to see. Most likely, neither noticed the solitary tears wandering down Goro's cheeks. For the moment, neither minded if this moment lasted forever.

Still, time waited for no man, and before long Goro leaped into action. He prepared a bag of everything he needed, had a few bites of cereal, then rushed off to his new school. A lengthy stroll through cold air brought him back down to earth in a hurry, but nothing could dissuade the lightness of his heart. On and on he went, then up and up, the scenery and time passing in a euphoric blur. Then, before he knew it, he stood there. Jigokuraku Academy stood before him in all its glory—for it was glory, not just to someone well acquainted with rock bottom, but to a believer in heroes who knew what this place stood for. This was it!

He sought out fellow students, taking in those faces new to him, but looking in particular for those he knew. How many made it? Did Umi? Surely she had; nobody could have put more of him- or herself into that test than she did. After a time, Goro found his quarry. Four people from the entry examination had converged, likely thinking along the same lines as him. They stood on a great threshold, surrounded on all sides by big shoes to fill. In such a situation, solidarity was a must. Goro certainly aimed to give them as much of it as he could. [i]Azukina...Mari...Hiroki...Shun,[/i] he listed off mentally, recalling each name from their various introductions before. Remembering one's name was a sure way to make someone feel as though he or she mattered, Goro knew, so he made it a point to commit each one to memory. “Good morning,” he said, waving as he approached. “I'm so glad to see you all here! I just knew our group had the right stuff.”