Grumbling as she finally received her schedule, Nagi vented her frustrations of the piece of paper instead. Folding the given paper into small squares, she kept her face carefully neutral. Momoko had escaped, which was definitely unfortunate, but she knew she'd had other chances throughout the year. The other girls though ... for one, she didn't even know most of them, as they were First Years, but then the other girls ... the ones in her year, just completely irritating.
Folding the squares into smaller squares, Nagi hummed quietly, softly so that she wouldn't draw the other late wanderers' attention. Well, that and so she wouldn't think about running a chain right through their skulls. Nope, nope, nope, happy thoughts, Nagi, happy thoughts.
Taking in a deep breath, Nagi finally let go of the schedule. She had already memorized it, so there was no need to actually keep it anymore. She turned towards the window, and stared, as if in a trace. There were a few late-comers, some were taking their time - probably third years who were usually late anyway - and others who ran as if their life depended on it - most likely the poor naive first years. Everyone had been like that in the beginning, obedient followers, as they grew up though, matured, they would start to develop their sense of self, independence and learn to walk according to their own pace.
Ah. But those thoughts, those reflective thoughts were quickly shoved out the window as the winds stilled around Nagi. The leaves outside halted, and the redhead only watched on expressionless, still lulled in a trance. Some would think she was trying to sleep while standing, but anyone who understood the concept of illusions, would quickly gather that the redhead was falling deep within her own mind. Thankfully, it was nothing dangerous, it was a common practice for those who had powers to manipulate the mind. The ability to see how far was 'too far', too deep.
Even when she was tired, Nagi was pleased to find that she hadn't lost her touch, that she could still turn the switch whenever she'd like. Oh! And leaves swayed once more, like they should. Blinking furiously, Nagi shook her head and turned on her heel - heading for her class.
What it a bad sign if she could still hear voices while deep within?
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Strolling into class with her bag held securely against her side, Nagi first stuck her head inside the class, looking at the students inside before she saw the teacher.
"Well ... Good morning, Tsukino - Sensei," The redhead practically purred in delight. She had heard stories from the previous students, some would say the woman was kind, playful even! On the other hand some would tell the stories of the rampages, the death glares ... oh, just what an absolute horror Tsukino was. No matter who said what though, there was one thing that they all said: Tsukino was a intelligent woman, she definitely knew what she was doing, what she was teaching, and would push them all to their limits.
Honestly, Nagi didn't hear most of the words, but what it did spell out for her was that Tsukino-Sensei was intelligent, witty, warm ... a complete variable. She had no idea what was true, what was right, but that just made it all the more appealing. It was ... perhaps just a silly crush, or maybe fascination, but Nagi had always been a curious girl, and that curiosity had yet to have serious consequences on her wellbeing, so ... why not?
Sadly, Tsukino-Sensei was as intelligent as Nagi had been told. She looked ... amused? Well, her upperclassmen from last year probably warned the teacher of the 'French-Redhead' that would undoubtedly bring up all kinds of shenanigans throughout the year. As she wasn't given a response, Nagi pouted and turned the rest of the classroom, trying to find her seat.
Noticing one other person in the room, Nagi placed her bag near the front of the classroom before she strutted down the aisle to the back of the room. Standing in front of Momoko's desk, Nagi leaned over once again, placing a palm just on the edge of the desk.
"Momoko ..." Nagi husked, bringing one of her hands up to tuck a strand of her red locks behind her ear, "Do you ... still have my lipstick?" She asked, then with the same hand that had tucked her hair behind, she reached out to rest it just on the pink haired girl's shoulder, leaning even closer. "... I have to apologize for my actions earlier, I understand that I've made you ... uncomfortable, in front of the others. Does your offer for ... a private performance still stand?" She asked, through half-lidded eyes.
