Liu Starfall's Story

Amaya woke with the sun. It streamed in through the window of the small apartment she'd settled into, peeking through the thin curtains to light up the bare room. The one personal thing, besides Amaya's clothes and a single book, that occupied the room thus far was a half finished quilt, a project she'd brought out of the orphanage, made of scraped together scraps of ruined shirt and tattered dress. It, and the beaten up gym bag it was in, clashed a little with the soft beige and nearly sterile appearance of the room.

Amaya shook herself out of her revery, and quietly berating herself for wasting those moments. Finally getting around to actually enrolling in DWMA, after arriving during the summer, she couldn't afford to be late. She hopped out of bed and quickly got herself ready for the day. She had a simple slice of toast for her breakfast, with a glass of water, and glanced at the clock. She had some time before she had to be at the academy. Could she go grab some essentials from the grocery store, put them away in the apartment, and get back to school before then? Probably not, but it was definitely something she'd do on the way back afterwards. She also needed to go check out the library, and see if they carried romance novels.

With her plan for the day set, Amaya set off for the academy at a brisk walk. She noticed the amount of others around her own age headed the same direction, obviously other students, and wondered if she'd get along well with them. If she'd make friends, be useful, maybe even find love. However, she was knocked out of her thoughts by almost being bowled over by a boy on a skateboard. She huffed and put her hands on her hips in annoyance. She chose to ignore his carelessness.

Instead, she noticed a man in an apron in front of the grocery store. He wasn't very tall, but he was trying to reach up and hang a basket on a high hook. Without thinking, or announcing her presence, Amaya took the basket from his hands and hooked it up for him.
"Oh, thank you very mu..." He began to say, but his voice trailed off when he turned and looked up at Amaya. Amaya stared back, blankly. The man started to look uncomfortable.
"It's not a problem." She replied, though the man cut her off.
"W-would you like some fruit?? As thanks??" He said, a painful looking smile on his face. Amaya sighed with a frown, which didn't help the guys nerves, and nodded. Her intimidating appearance had made things awkward again. On the positive side, she now had a shopping bag with some free fruit in it. It occurred to her as she walked away, though, that she'd probably look a little odd carrying a shopping bag of fruit to school. She didn't have time to take it back to her apartment.

However, she got a laugh later when she passed the skateboard boy on the stairs. Apparently her brisk walking had been more effective than she might have thought, she'd somewhat kept up, and closed the gap when he couldn't skate. Slow and steady wins the race after all. She considered calling out and scolding him for his reckless disregard for other pedestrians, but she had a feeling he wouldn't really listen, or may even enjoy annoying people on the streets. Instead she turned her attention to the alarmingly sparkly desk, behind which sat a woman and a very large flask. Amaya paused at the desk, internally cringing as she waited for the woman to look and get spooked. She was surprised when there was no real reaction. The woman spoke, but Amaya, still fumbling a little with English (languages had never been her strength), couldn't quite make out what she said. However, the woman had gestured to the table, and the nametags thereon. Amaya looked and, after a moment, realised half said "Weapon" and the other half said "Meister". Amaya snatched up a tag that said "Weapon", and wrote her name underneath, carefully so that it was legible, and in Japanese as well as English. After that was registration, though there were a number of interesting characters that distracted her before she got there. For one thing, a boy in traditional Japanese clothes got trampled by a sudden influx of students, and another, the skateboarding boy was doing tricks. She slowed to a halt as the (presumably) Japanese boy sat on the ground in a meditating position.

Strange world. At least her shopping bag didn't look that weird in comparison.

Amaya considered her situation, before deciding to throw caution to the wind for a moment. Though, she only partially did, since she subtly checked the Japanese boy's tag, signed "Naroshihara Onda", and sighed some relief that he was another weapon. That made things much more simple.
"Pardon me." She said. "But what are you doing on the floor?"