(no subject)

It's true that Souji Mikage doesn't tend to venture outside Nemuro Memorial Hall very often. Most of the time, those he needs to see come to him; he doesn't often come to them.

Nevertheless, there are some times when it can't be avoided. And it's a pleasant enough day, at any rate. So he takes his time crossing the campus on his way back to the hall, nose buried in the book he'd brought with him. He's so caught up in what he's reading that the shouts and calls of students leaving classes might not even exist.

Across the courtyard, up the stairs. The path is so familiar to him that he doesn't need to think about what he's doing. Three steps, two steps, one step more -- then six paces forward, hand on the doorknob. Push down. Push open.

(the path before you has been prepared)

Enter.

(no subject)

It takes a moment for him to realise that the ground beneath his feet is not the hard, polished wood of a floor, but something oddly springy.

He slows, and lowers his book.

Somehow, he's not inside Nemuro Memorial Hall on a late afternoon. He's outside, wet grass underfoot and a starry sky above.

This would be strange in and of itself, were it not also for the fact that a short distance away is a greenhouse that looks exactly like the one

('I wonder if the flowers themselves are happy, being forced to last so long.')

in Ohtori.