Post by Deleted on May 5, 2017 8:53:46 GMT -6
The cold air was hard to shake away, as was the unsettled feeling.
Snow had already begun to fall this season, making roads and sidewalks slick under wheel and foot. It wasn’t surprising that the morning was still, was quiet. After the disturbing Temple attack, mere days before, it seemed the city was still reeling. The attack forced people indoors; the weather kept them there.
Yuji felt himself very lucky. Had he not met Charumati a few weeks past, he would have certainly been huddled in the streets, struggling to stay warm. As it was, the barracks were more comfort than he’d experienced in quite a long time. It even had heating. His parents hadn’t had heating. (They weren’t barbarians, of course. His mother lit the stove.) He had working burners to cook food and hot water. The barracks, though Charumati didn’t speak particularly well of them, were far better than he thought he’d deserved.
Still, he was grateful. Between the stability of his new home and his training, he felt himself growing stronger. More determined.
His housing was located slightly less central in the city than Charumati’s, who, as he learned, lived in a surprisingly modest apartment in the Dragon Flats District; it wasn’t all that far from the Monks’ temple, which he passed on the way. He heard no noise from within, and pressed on, hands shoved deep in his coat’s pockets, unsure whether the silence was a good sign. Charumati had invited him to breakfast before today’s training, and he imagined that she’d want to talk to him about the attack. The sensei herself had not actually come to help. He imagined he’d want to talk to her about that. Since then, he'd had a feeling of unease, one that clung in the pit of his stomach like a hot, heavy coal.
Yuji reached the bookstore and ascended the flight of stairs that led up to the apartment, remembering his first visit. As Nirav, the soon-to-be student of Yuji’s own, apparently had gone on a bit of an adventure out of the city, the young man was invited over before his first training session. Late, he recalled, even though it wasn’t really his fault: the staircase was shockingly difficult to find, though quite obvious once one knew where it was. It wasn’t concealed or hidden in any way, but Yuji had walked up and down the street, furrowing his brow at the address on the scrap of paper, before finally stumbling onto the first step as if by accident.
Maybe it was due to fatigue.
He had no such trouble since then, however, and he knocked gently on the door to signal his arrival.
Snow had already begun to fall this season, making roads and sidewalks slick under wheel and foot. It wasn’t surprising that the morning was still, was quiet. After the disturbing Temple attack, mere days before, it seemed the city was still reeling. The attack forced people indoors; the weather kept them there.
Yuji felt himself very lucky. Had he not met Charumati a few weeks past, he would have certainly been huddled in the streets, struggling to stay warm. As it was, the barracks were more comfort than he’d experienced in quite a long time. It even had heating. His parents hadn’t had heating. (They weren’t barbarians, of course. His mother lit the stove.) He had working burners to cook food and hot water. The barracks, though Charumati didn’t speak particularly well of them, were far better than he thought he’d deserved.
Still, he was grateful. Between the stability of his new home and his training, he felt himself growing stronger. More determined.
His housing was located slightly less central in the city than Charumati’s, who, as he learned, lived in a surprisingly modest apartment in the Dragon Flats District; it wasn’t all that far from the Monks’ temple, which he passed on the way. He heard no noise from within, and pressed on, hands shoved deep in his coat’s pockets, unsure whether the silence was a good sign. Charumati had invited him to breakfast before today’s training, and he imagined that she’d want to talk to him about the attack. The sensei herself had not actually come to help. He imagined he’d want to talk to her about that. Since then, he'd had a feeling of unease, one that clung in the pit of his stomach like a hot, heavy coal.
Yuji reached the bookstore and ascended the flight of stairs that led up to the apartment, remembering his first visit. As Nirav, the soon-to-be student of Yuji’s own, apparently had gone on a bit of an adventure out of the city, the young man was invited over before his first training session. Late, he recalled, even though it wasn’t really his fault: the staircase was shockingly difficult to find, though quite obvious once one knew where it was. It wasn’t concealed or hidden in any way, but Yuji had walked up and down the street, furrowing his brow at the address on the scrap of paper, before finally stumbling onto the first step as if by accident.
Maybe it was due to fatigue.
He had no such trouble since then, however, and he knocked gently on the door to signal his arrival.