Ishimaru would have a short wait of about ten seconds before the door to Shinguji’s room would swing open — but he certainly wouldn’t be disappointed with the sheer paragon of aesthetic maximalism that awaited within. Most surfaces were covered with ceramics and potteries and statuettes in various stages of restoration, all converging to create a rich and earthy palette spattered with gold accents. Scrolls lined the walls, carefully suspended in such a way that no creases or pinholes would be left behind. Above his desk hung a sheet of metal mesh about as wide as a man’s arm span, peppered with recovered jewelry fashioned from stones and bones alike. His bed was made immaculately, and piled on his nightstand was a collection of hand-bound books with no discernible titles — he’d call them light evening reading, if Ishimaru cared to ask. And in the middle of it all, the empty space around it naturally drawing one’s eye to it (as if it weren’t magnetic enough on its own…)
It was suspended from the ceiling with what could best be described as puppet strings. It hung limp, as pristine-white and perfectly preserved as a centuries-old skeleton could possibly be. In lieu of ligaments, the body was held together with nigh-invisible wire. Upon a closer look, one would find impossibly intricate carvings running along the length of every individual bone.
Between Ishimaru and this world of wonders, though, stood Shinguji. He looked terribly at home amongst the relics — like perhaps he, too, had been recovered from a sealed tomb.
“I am Korekiyo, yes,” he answered, straightening the cuffs of his jacket as he spoke.
“As for your question… the answer would be: it is certainly possible. In truth, I have been somewhat preoccupied with my work… I had taken in my deliveries from Kirumi-san with nary a glance… if your uniforms elude you, this might solve the mystery of where they could be.”
He did not move to fetch them. He stepped back, opening the door a little bit wider in a universal display of ‘come inside’. “You might find what you seek in the middlemost dresser drawer. If you’ll excuse me…”
And he floated back towards the suspended skeleton. With an obscenely gentle gesture, he interlaced his fingers with the skeleton’s own and extended it, so that he could examine the carvings more properly.
The only problem with the directions that he’d given was that his dresser, in fact, had four drawers — and as such, there was no real middlemost one. If Ishimaru were to check the lower of the two middle ones, he’d find his uniforms, cleaned and pristine and neatly folded. If he checked the upper of the two, though, he’d find… something else.
A mummified hand, to be precise — sealed in an airtight container.
“My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to assist you with anything that you might need as a student!!”
It was perhaps more than a bit odd to introduce himself after Korekiyo had already invited him into his room, and stranger still to launch directly into his typical prefect spiel instead of a more casual one when all he was doing was trying to collect his uniforms, but old habits died hard. He managed to go in after the anthropologist and make a decent amount of headway towards the dresser his classmate had pointed out before all the odds and ends diverted his attention. Baubles normally wouldn’t warrant much more than a passing glance from him --- his duties as prefect incorporated residential assistance, occasional dormitory inspections included, but the things Shinguji had gathered together could hardly be compared to the crass anime figurines and obscure band posters he’d seen from their fellow classmates. There were scrolls and tomes from all over, jewelry and ceramics laid out carefully, that skeleton---
( That skeleton was more creepy than interesting, but for an anthropologist... )
His gaze lingered on every other object in the room, slowing his procession toward the dresser to a halt. If there were any clear benefit to being the Ultimate Moral Compass, it was that his lack of natural talent and dedication to hard work granted him at least decent success in a variety of subjects academically. He could never be compared to the likes of the Ultimate Anthropologist, but he at least had enough of an interest in the subject ( and in the history of the world overall ) to find everything he could see genuinely fascinating, to the point where he openly ogled what appeared to him to be a painted bowl.
"Incredible!! All these things are amazing!! Did you gather all these yourself, Korekiyo??”
As though he really needed to ask. He was an Ultimate. It was only natural that he would have. To be so well travelled... He had to be one of the more cultured students at the school then, right? Though Ishimaru’s body finally made its way to the dresser and his hands opened and fumbled through the top drawer as presumably directed his eyes never left the surface of the other man’s desk, flitting from statue to figure to stone carving to Paleolithic tool in earnest fascination. His lips curled up into a sunny smile, mouth opening to deliver another question or three about the things he’d seen before it finally registered in his mind that what he’d drawn out of the dresser was glass and not fabric, and that there was what appeared to be a hand inside.
At least he managed not to drop it.
"...??!! Th-This is... Is this really the best spot... To put something like this...??!!”
