Timeline:early in at the Hyuga complex
Drool drips out of the side of his mouth, and as he cracks open his eyes, he sees the scroll acts as his pillow. He lies on a low bed like thing, on his stomach, much like he recalls he was the night before, and he lifts his head to look down at the smears of ink with a frown on his face. He hears a tray thunk lightly on the wooden floor beyond the wall door, and without further thought, slaps his hands together. Before the discharge fades, the scroll is restored, ancient paper pristine, and he turns to the task of rolling the long sheet up as the wall door eases open.
He looks to the tray bearer, and holds the scroll aloft. The sleeve of his borrowed bathrobe slides back from his wrist, and he glances down to the waist band to ensure the knot remains intact. His cheeks burn as he wonders of the gender of his visitor. He has to be covered, after all, just in case..
…It's a girl.
The Hyuga, a different robed girl this time, doesn't meet his gaze. Her white eyes are covered by a curtain of long dark blue bangs as she sits mute and still as a ghost at the room entrance.
No. kneels.
She kneels.
He imagines she would shake her head at his gesture if she wished to see it, for he works it out that she is not here to retrieve the scroll. With useless flail of a too skinny wrist, he lowers the scroll to the bed surface as he narrows his eyes. He tilts his head, and takes in a breath.
"You. Uh.." Ed tries in the language. "y-you…"
In Amestrian, and the other languages he knows, there's this inflection at the end for a question. This language they speak. It doesn't have that, and even though he adds it anyway, he winces inwardly at the incorrectness. That girl who carried a tray of food the previous night helped him puzzle together that rule, and it would be a handy thing to get questions answered quickly.
What was it that she used? He closes his eyes as the pause stretches into awkwardness, and he clears his throat.
"…Ka?" he squeaks out with a voice higher in pitch than he meant it to be.
The girl's head bobs slightly. He hears a soft mutter of a whisper voice, and lowers his brows at the angry sounding tone. A heartbeats pass, and when the girl abruptly rises to her feet with her hands clasped tightly together, he instantly rises to his feet as well. He hops on the bed thing, doing his best to keep his weight shifted slightly off his automail, but she only bows his way, once, before she turns and quickly shuffles down the hallway out of his view.
He swallows as he glances at the tray on the floor. He watches the empty surface as morning rays filter through the paper draped windows.
A/N Short, I know. I'm trying to get back into writing every day, and this will follow that format for at least a week. For this part of the story, i hope it will work out as well as I think it will.
