Aside the Chuunin, a bookstack lay upon the desk. Afront the paperstack of scribbled notes, her tension headache deepened. Fingers attempted to provide relief; rubbing against the forehead, then moving to massage temples. It aided somewhat, yet nowhere near enough.
The realm of her mind grew shrouded, even basic thought obscured by fog. Perhaps pleasure in masochism, over some sense of duty, compelled her not to abandon the task for a drink yet. Though, admittingly, the downpour outdoors provided less motive to roam about Susukino without having prepped an umbrella—no one warned her how bad the weather would become.
The fact she’d been required to exit the building just for smoke breaks also proved annoyingly inconvenient. Weather aside, severing focus to leave the building, smoke, return in a reattempt to establish flow— only to resever and repeat this process again and again—proved far more draining than its alternative of just sitting still and suffering withdrawal. Establishing focus demanded time—there wasn’t some sort of flippable switch. More like an engine, requiring a number of prompts to even come alive, then additional runtime afore proving able to work reliably enough. This process demanded concerningly longer as years passed, and Siu couldn’t determine whether she’d become stupider or just older—Perhaps, they were one of the same. Her head shook away the thought; yet another intruded: Had she ADHD and been unawares? ... Well, that would have explained much of childhood.
The ambiance of her environment at least proved comfortable enough. Outside, the downpour pummeled; its muffled beat relaxing. Quiet footsteps of those seeking knowledge softly echoed through the halls. Penscratches travailed to conquer their subject, not unlike herself. It felt homey in a way; as if all here shared a wordless understanding of solitude and growth.
Words grew harder to comprehend, reading capabilities slowed; a mental recess might have been in order. With travel plans nearing so soon, the belated attempt to grasp fluency in such an outdated language may have seemed counterintuitive. Especially in something so native-bound, which she'd likely never utilize once leaving borders. Yet, it had been for this very same reason she'd felt impelled to do so. Whether by some sense of duty or simply boredom, she’d felt it right to take advantage of the opportunity before it disappeared.
Studying amongst Academy Students did feel somewhat awkward though, despite the arrival of adults being nothing uncommon. Library visits, in general, seemed like a dying practice; outdated, if you will. Especially when the Academy provided you with the majority of books required, which students rarely finished anyways. Libraries were for those seeking knowledge past the fundamental, for whom lectures and standardized material just hadn't been enough to satiate the fire of curiosity. For those yearning to escape the shackles of methodized learning and educate themselves. Throughout history, such minds proved a small percentage to begin with. And as Siu watched the world change and develop before her very eyes, she'd recognized this breed growing scarcer. Like a species on the border of extinction.
A drained breath heaved, the kunoichi rerubbing her forehead. The hand reached for the thermos near her feet, untightening the lid in a few twists to draw another sip of black-leaved tea. The warm liquid soothed the body, yet its caffeine content just wasn’t enough—she'd probably have to retrieve a coffee soon. Definitely strong. And maybe a snack—tea always had an odd habit of making her hungry.
Inhaling deeply, remotivating herself to endure, the woman leaned forward against the study table. A particular book open to her right, and nigh filled sheet to her left, stained in ancient characters.
Pressing the eraser against the table, the kunoichi straightened in her chair.
"Mmm," Ruminated the thought. "The flavor of yourself."
Had a nice ring to it ... But.
'... Mistranslation?’ ... Or intentional metaphor?
Feeling lightheaded from hunger didn't assist. Now Siu genuinely wondered what she tasted like.
"Probably ..." The pencil turned to scratch across the sheet again.
A double check of her answer ... Then a triple check. The single nod eventually concurred.
Most assuredly.
[WC=771]
[Thread Complete/Exited]