Moriko only paid vague attention to the comings and goings of the room she was seated in, partly absorbed in her book. The chapters on small unit tactics got very into the weeds with detailing the specialties of the people involved, classifying different types of ninja by categories. These categories themselves were fairly in-depth, more than she'd seen before, and went much further than the simple classifications of attack type most such books she'd seen had ever gone into, and could be mixed together and matched with an eye on the combatant's primary skill in front.
So I would be a...ranged, attack-focused, support-capable Ninjutsu user, she mused, paying special attention to a paragraph detailing the proper placement of that type of ninja in a combat role. Interesting. Does the element of choice modify anything...? What about environment?
She did remember she had a drink out of habit of a lifetime; it was a reflex you developed as a Yuki in the desert to stay hydrated. She did not, however, notice the occasional topping-up of her juice by attentive wait-staff. Or, for that matter, entries and exits. She had some senses on alert, but not ones that would really keep her sharp for anything other than actual danger. Short of an object flying her way, or someone starting a bar fight, she wasn't about to look up for less than an announcement. Or anything else official.
There were definitely other people there. It just wasn't a concern.
At least, until someone standing nearby cleared their throat loudly and conspicuously, making Moriko blink and lower her book. She cut the attitude, because anyone doing that here wasn't doing it to annoy her or for anything stupid like they would at home.
It was not a house servant, by the looks of it. They seemed too...out of place. Moriko gave up on placing a gender immediately; long ponytail but flat chest covered by armour. Who knew? The armour did seem to signify something, mind; they were not an average person but were involved with the event.
"Greetings, Tsurara-san," the person said in a likewise neutral register. "As a participant in the Sennin Games, you are required for at minimum the duration of the evening to be in possession of and wear on your wrist this device."
Moriko accepted the device cautiously, setting the book off to one side. It was...sleek. Vaguely stylish and within her colour scheme too, though that was likely just luck. It was clearly designed to fit on either arm, and not so large or heavy to impede movement. A little, maybe, but it was metal. It weighed less than her bow overall.
"Are we to know what they do ahead of time?" she asked. It didn't seem dangerous, and the odds of someone getting away with sabotage in this way were...not nothing, but unlikely at best.
"I'm afraid not, Tsurara-san," the ninja said. "We do not know ourselves. Takahashi Satoshi, the leader of the Journeyman Order, crafted them. The Kazekage requires you wear it, and otherwise you will be removed from the contest."
...Alarming.
"Thank you, then," she said after weighing the further odds of a trap. She slipped it onto her right wrist. The journeyman bowed and exited swiftly upon seeing her do so.
It was cool and very smooth, and the weight was indeed there but not more than noticeable. It might have been some means to display a score of some kind, if she had to guess. Meaning that 'games' would be very literal. And would her refusal to store her gear be an impediment? Doubtful; probably some people hadn't even found the rooms so she'd been on even footing.
Or behind.
Because most if not all of the people here would be ahead of her, physically and combat-wise.
Problem.
If violence was involved. The option to store gear seemed to indicate it wouldn't be, at least for now. Which, when combined with the rest of this...meant...
Which meant that the Kazekage was genuinely a fair and open person...?
Moriko prodded this mentally from varying angles and found it surprisingly sound. She was wary of accepting that of anyone, generally-speaking, but then she was a cynic by nature. Even Tsukiya had, when she'd asked, thought any sleight of hand here was on the man's assistants, not him. That also tracked with the mission with the creature out in the desert. Genuine.
Hm.
Just then the loudspeakers came on. Moriko tilted her head and listened to the announcement, nodding slowly. She was just about done her book anyway, and just about done her drink--five minutes at most, and she would head down.
Better to be where the action was.
[Topic Exited? for the Ballroom]
Kohana made her way across the room and sat down beside where the nervous participant of the Sennin Games was at. 
