[Silence] to cover my muses’ mouth. - Suguru shutting him up bc annoying.
To most of the other students in attendance, the momentous event of the visiting clan representatives was a blessing. Their cohort were exempt from classes for a day- this impromptu holiday conveniently labelled as a study break while the highly-strung faculty murmured and tiptoed over figurative eggshells.
What resulted was a tenuous peace (if it could even be called that), the school had gone mute and stiff with all the minutiae of age-old formality. But if this moment of quiet before the storm was comparable to a sheet of brittle ice spread newly across the surface of an arctic lake, then Satoru was likewise representative of a flaming comet hurtling to ground.
Seeing this catastrophe blooming on the horizon, Yaga had wisely pulled him aside pre-emptively to have a word. There would be no wise-cracks, no mouthing off, no usage of cursed technique unless it were specifically requested of him, not a toe out of line- or else.
Satoru didn’t know what Yaga had meant by that lingering threat. Regardless, it was no deterrent if that had been the intention. On the contrary, the rebellious flame within him had sparked and quietly ignited as he’d stood with his back against the wall, hands stowed in his pockets, wearing an innocent and unbothered grin to match Yaga’s bubbling fury.
All had been going smoothly to plan, the representatives had gathered that morning to tour the grounds with the school’s prodigious year (two special grades and a reverse-curse user to boot-) proudly presented to accompany them. One of the wrinkled spectres from Kyoto had made a passing comment about languishing respect for tradition and Satoru had gleefully opened his mouth to-
“Mmf!” His eyes widened, the hand slapped over his face too quickly placed for his Infinity to repel. It flickered belatedly and fizzled out as his surprise morphed quickly into irate indignation.
