Gear-shaped irises widened, as if
to absorb every detail of the mirror
image in front of her; identical,
save for the clothing she wore,
which was pretty obviously not
Senketsu. In that surreal moment,
Ryuuko couldn't help but review
the life choices that had brought
her to this strange juncture.
Admittedly, she was a bit of an
archetype of the 'bad kid'; she got
in trouble, ditched classes, did
things at ages which society
frowned upon, all that crap. Her
respect for authority was rigorously
merit based, which tended to get
her into trouble, more often than
not - but at Honno, she had a lot of
leeway. Probably because anyone
with eyeballs, ears, and a
consciousness knew who she was
by now.
And she had been attending oddly
regularly, what with the developments
on campus from day to day pushed
her and Senketsu further and further,
but there came a time when a girl had
to just... go away for a while and be a
stupid teenager by herself. So, about
partway through the lunch period, she'd
ditched, and all her wandering around
Honno had brought her under a bridge.
A bridge where, for some inexplicable
reason, she found herself staring at ...
herself.
Did Mr. Mankanshoku slip her some acid?