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Region: Knowhere
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Sakamai listened in through the car's rumbling and the lean's press. Majun's eyelids were squinted in attention, locked at the screen as though Hoshi's finger wasn't there, fiddling with it. There was a clear reflection of Sesato's stern image on the bright Wikipedia page gleaming in the slit of his eyes. Sakamai silently calculated while holding his peaked cap against the inertia, leaning back to adjust to the climb. 'What year was it again... 2057...' After mumbling some simple math, he figured that it was about the year 189 when the emperor ascended to his throne. Sakamai was lucky to learn the Gregorian system in his elite education, a system of dating that was almost extinct in Fankuwo, and to be surrounded by it in a foreign land would surely be a very alienating experience. His ears were sharply listening, his mind registering and effortlessly translating. Ministers, policymakers... Democracy? His lips twitched when he realised that his vocabulary was incomplete. So far, he understood every word that came pouring out of his mouth, a testament to the validity of his education; this one word, however, was received as a noise. But it only came to pass. 'Oh?' The fact that this Sesato made public appearances, even vocal, astonished him; it was an audible and visible reaction, his head flinching to the side. 'Our Emperor would never make public appearances... We've never even heard him speak', said Sakamai, his head leaning to the opposite side as he processed the stark contrast between these two emperors. 'Our Emperor always works in the Imperial Palace, forbidden grounds. He does have his ministering governors who are also in the palace, but they can never enter the throne room. Only the vice of heaven and... Someone like Emperor Sesato can.' Telling this story, the silent doubt emerged again in his heart, the doubt that the Emperor might've never existed. It was a common crime of thought that the Emperor would easily tolerate and forgive, but to Sakamai, how dare he thought those things! His irritation was shown again through the twitch of his lips. Majun was still fixated on the phone. Examining all the text and, in the end, seeing more text, the captain then realised that it was a book! His amazement was shared by his raised brows. Behold, a book, one that didn't have pages but a long row of text that would summon from the emptiness below the phone, intermingled with images and formatting. The sheer complexity of this technology was conjuring up dozens of questions in his head, not even one he could ask without Sakamai's help. Turning to Sakamai, he found him conversing busily with Kyuin and everyone else, still a foreign babble to his ears. The language barrier really isolated him, the light at the other side that all he would get was a shadow. At the same time, the subtle lights of the inn were pouring through the car's windows, marking their arrival. He turned back to Hoshi, joining his palms and gestured a slight bow. 'Kuron Buwanan', thank you, or more literally, receive gratitude. Of course, that wasn't going to be the end of his excitement with the item. He wondered if he could get one or more to bring back home. Sakamai grabbed the briefcase in one hand and opened the door with the other, the cold air of the night blanketing him as it did when he first left the Segarak. But what an inn. His feet landed on the pavement one by one, followed by Majun, a minor cloud of dust rising no further than the sole of their shoes. As usual, when encountering a new location, they both looked around and, sometimes, their torso would be carried along by their turning head. The foreign atmosphere was quick to encapsulate Sakamai, the offerings of the continental climate of Hanai Saikang seeping through his uniform. It made him miss home, Fankuwo's unforgiving heat on a cloudless day, the sun's rays akin to hot-tipped needles teasing the skin until a rare, cold breeze would take it all away. Now, he was here where the night felt like that breeze but unending... Realising the cold, he regretted not leaving the Segarak double-coated and gloved. He turned to Majun and there he was, his hands grasping his upper arms as the cold was getting to them. As time passed, it felt like the cold here was becoming more and more of a black and white contrast to Fankuwo's weather despite the temperature persisting in its degree. 'How are you doing?' Sakamai asked. 'Cold.' The two conscripts were never tested like the Fan special forces to withstand such coldness. They were a defence force, never intended to go beyond the archipelago's tropical climate. Sakamai's conclusion: a condition called wind infiltration. Take an empty stomach, combine it with cold weather in the night. 'Wind infiltration. We should get something to eat', he muttered, Majun nodding in agreement. Sakamai turned to Kyuin and the other men. 'I know it's not courteous for us to ask this, but can we get something to eat?' Add to that, a slight gesture at Majun, as if he was putting the blame of discourtesy on the cold, wind-infiltrated captain. 'Wind infiltration... Katse wa... Shintou...' Sakamai attempted to continue with wind infiltration, realising that the Nipponese translation for that easily-spoken word in Fankuwoan did not exist. 'Er, cold!' OOC: Still feeling a bit no no. Hanguk-Nippon, Evinea, and Petea |