<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4a/Iris_Heart_-_Hyperdimension_Neptunia_-_2x3_portrait_-_mischeivous.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Natsuki Akuzawa<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Beef bowl shop in town<br/><strong>Time:</strong>First day, night<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>School uniform, with a few shopping bags<br/><strong>With:</strong>Biscuit<br/><br/><strong>“You repaired it yourself?”</strong>she asked.<strong>“Impressive,”</strong>she said, nodding. She meant it, too; among the many ‘colourful types’ – ie, criminals – she grew up with were several car mechanics. Well, that was their public job description, anyway. In practice they didn’t often ‘repair’ cars so much as ‘strip them down’ or ‘disguise their origin’… and usually not with the permission of the legal owner, of course. At any rate, to young Natsuki’s eyes, they were like virtuosos with their wrenches – it helped that they were all happy to show off for the young girl – and she developed a secret fascination with the hands-on mechanically-minded type.<br/><br/>At Biscuit’s offer of a ride home, Natsuki grinned.<strong>“Sure!”</strong>she said brightly. Of course, she didn’t believe he was serious, and so, neither was she. She was still picturing his bike as a dirt bike – or perhaps even a scooter. The idea of two trying to ride such a machine was comical.<br/><br/><strong>“That’s okay,”</strong>Natsuki waved a hand airly.<strong>“With all the confusion, I only ended up signing up for swimming anyway. I never got a chance to check out most of the other clubs. I suppose we’ll both find interesting ones to join later. Maybe there is a motorcycle club! Or a mechanic club. They certainly had a lot of clubs to choose from, so who knows?”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“You didn’t miss much of anything else, either,”</strong>Natsuki shrugged.<strong>“The morning was taken up with the introductory address. It went pretty much about as you’d expect. ‘As students, you represent the academy and its values,’”</strong>she mimicked Headmaster Hideaki as well as she could manage.<strong>“The <em>second</em> Headmaster – apparently there are two – was a little strange. The Student Council leader was kinda cute, in a megane-bishie kinda way, but <em>way</em> too serious.”</strong>She mimicked her interpretation of Kiyoshi’s posture, facial expression, and pretended to adjust a pair of invisible glasses.<strong>“Hmm,”</strong>she touched her lower lip as she thought.<strong>“We didn’t do much in class either, besides just introductions. Classes were cut short for the club drive. So, yeah, you didn’t miss anything.”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“I can give you all the info you missed about how the classes will be run,”</strong>Natsuki offered.<strong>“But you’ll probably get it anyway from the teachers when you report in. Ah, which class are you in? I probably should have asked before. I’m a second-year.”</strong><br/><br/>The mention of having to pick up his bike from the docks caught her interest. That meant it was an American bike. She had no idea what American motorcycles were like, or if or how they were different from Japanese motorcycles, but she couldn’t help but think of them in the same way as American cars: big, expensive, and driven by yakuza. Picturing Biscuit as a yakuza brought a smile to her face.