She introduces herself, unaware of his inability to remember names. Tanaka repeats it in his mind, wondering if this one will stick the way so many others haven't; but then, her role is still a mystery.
"..I am Tanaka Gundam," he states. He finds comfort in his real name. It's simple, unassuming. No one would make the connection between such a plain name and the writing he pours out under a pseudonym. His real name is like a blank page, unstained with ink, untarnished by reputation. Though proud of his writing, Tanaka saves the truth -- ironically, his facade -- for those who earn it. A footnote in his life.
His eyes flicker briefly to the book she holds; almost all of the cover is hidden by her hands. He can't tell what it is from such a short look. At least she reads, he thinks.
Making his way through the open door, Tanaka checks his bearings and turns right down the hallway, not waiting to see if she's following. Like a ghost, he can sense her at his side. Leaving the library behind them, their footsteps echo in the empty halls, joined only a few times by another wandering student. Tanaka vaguely recalls that there was a class he should've been attending instead of playing tour guide.
"Though I have never personally visited the room you seek, I am sure I'll be able to lead you there, lost one," Tanaka replies. Of course; her name is already gone from his mind. He adjusts his scarf and continues down a staircase. "What purpose have you there?"
Despite the obvious answer -- "To play music, of course!" he figures the girl will answer -- he's curious to hear anyway. Admittedly, Tanaka had never paid attention to the other students, much less their talents. The odd question had been asked here and there, gaining information to fill out his characters, but never with any interest behind it.
But something about her catches his attention. Maybe the easy way she speaks to him, always trying, stumbling over words in ways his pen never would; her smile that changes course as quickly as the wind; an expression he can't predict. He wonders what sort of character would come trailing onto the page if he tried to describe her. But then, he thinks, she is.. probably more suited to a different genre.
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
yousharknotpass
