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Tsubasa felt someone staring at him. He glanced at Tomomi, who watched him expectantly as if for instructions. He nodded to her. Taking this as permission, she turned to address Shimizu.
"I'm Tanaka Tomomi," she announced. "Please, call me whatever you like. Um, I'm the Ultimate Swimsuit Model."
"Swimsuit," Tsubasa muttered. "Not gravure. You could have corrected me earlier."
"Oh, no, it wasn't a big deal," Tomomi insisted.
Nagisa continued humming, examining the cameras. He waved to one, laughing. "Hello! Hello, camera people! Say, do you know where we are? Do you think we're in a movie?"
Tsubasa huffed. As nice as it was having people to follow him around, when one of them was a doormat and one of them was just way too happy about the current situation, it left a bit to be desired. "If there was someone manning those cameras, you'd think they would give us some kind of hint by now. No, this isn't a movie--we'd need a director for that. And our memories. Could be a psychological experiment, though--throw a bunch of high-schoolers in a strange situation and see how quickly they can work their way out of it. Well, if that's the case..."
He paused, seemingly thinking of something. "Oh, right. Our Ultimate talents. Mine is Ultimate Aeronautics Engineer."
"Mine exists!" Nagisa exclaimed cheerfully.
"Nagisa can't remember his," Tsubasa added. Nagisa nodded, then returned to humming his song and began heading down the hallway. "Shimizu, I apologize for jumping subjects so quickly, but...did you wake up in that room, or have you had a chance to walk around a bit already? We were heading down that hallway if you felt like coming along."
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Futami leaned forwards, suddenly examining the group. "Yamada Minato...say, that's a familiar-soundin' name! Have you ever run charity runs before? Feel like I've done a couple!"
Aimi suddenly realized these were all rather famous students--for the first time, she was more aware of them and their talents. The names had a slight familiarity--Saito's and Yamada's, at least. Aimi tilted her head at the two, wondering how it hadn't yet occurred to her that she was vaguely aware of them.
"Actually..." Aimi paused. "Come to think of it...your names sound familiar to me in a vague sense as well, Saito and Yamada."
Though I most certainly never donated to any charities. Aimi liked to keep her wealth where it belonged--with herself. Not that she considered herself stingy, she was merely cautious. If an economic collapse struck, she would wish she hadn't donated hundreds of dollars to such-and-such charity or thrown away her money in a massive shopping spree.
That was why getting free stuff from gullible men was such a joy to her. She could pick up a bite to eat without spending a cent.
"I think my memory is coming back in patches," Aimi said. "That may be why it didn't click before that I had heard of you."
"And..." Futami rubbed her hands together, suddenly looking at Hayashi. "You said you're lucky, right? So, so, can you predict the winner of the horse races? Bet you're real good at chance games, eh? You must be like a world-class gambler!"
Aimi decided someone had to steer Futami back to the original question. "Buildings. Are there any that stuck out to you?"
"Hn..." Futami began jogging in a circle around the group, seemingly thinking. "Not really? But there were these weird speaker-lookin' thingies mounted all over the place."
As if on cue, a static sound suddenly filled the air. Aimi whirled around, noticing for the first time the speaker and monitor poking out the ground partway between the hospital and the dorms.
"Upupupu..."
What?
What is that sound?
"All Hope's Peak students, please report to the gym for your student orientation! I repeat, all Hope's Peak students, please report to the gym for your student orientation! And no dawdling, you hear me?!"
"Gym," Futami repeated, remarkably calm. "Must be our headmaster callin'! The main resort building's this way--that's probably where the gym's at. I'll jog so I don't go too fast. Follow me!"
With that, Futami changed course to head further inland. Figuring she probably knew what she was doing better than anyone else, Aimi began to follow, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Why do I get the sense this isn't going to end well?