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The moment Sato entered the vicinity of the Kanayama estate, Takashi's futile studying was interrupted by an unobtrusive knock on his bedroom door. There were three light taps in succession before a faint voice rang out. "Kanayama-sama, your schoolmate has arrived," the maid -- Hiroko-san, if Takashi recalled correctly -- said politely, bowing before turning away and heading down the hallway.
Takashi shut his textbook with enthusiastic glee. Finally, Sato had arrived. Takashi was getting absolutely nowhere, with his eyes wandering aimlessly over endless rows of miniscule words; he knew without a doubt that Sato (or frankly, anyone, considering the rate at which he was going) could help him out.
Takashi grabbed his books and strode to the library, a light bounce in his step. To put it frankly, the blonde was excited to finally understand what was happening and not look like a dumbass. Takashi wasn't someone with a stifling kind of pride; it didn't wound his ego to ask for help or admit that he was inferior in some aspect, but nonetheless, his desire to emulate the rest of the Kanayamas always prevented him from getting the assistance heprobably definitely needed.
Takashi entered the library, heading to the grand mahogony table in the center of the room without a break in his step. The table was ornately carved on the edges and well taken care of; Takashi could see an impeccable, blemish-free reflection in himself on its smooth surface. It was placed in the very center of the Kanayama library, framed by endless bookcases of a simple, modern design (as to not detract from the centerpiece's floridity), and positioned just so, so that the light coming in from the tall windows hit it in a way that practically illuminated it.
The Kanayamas were images of perfection in every way, and that included their interior design. Nothing was without intention.
Takashi set his books down, taking a seat at the head of the table so that the setting sun was striking the back of the elaborate, embellished chair. Of course, all of the chairs at the table carried the air of luxury (which was enough for the Kanayamas; to the truly wealthy, the vibes were more important than what was materially present), but the head of the table was always given a little more . . . special treatment.
Takashi fiddled around with his pose, arranging his limbs in a way that imitated the way he had seen his father and Rina act so often before, freezing and holding the position when Sato suddenly entered the room. Takashi was taken aback, but he didn't let it shine through his expression, instead allowing his features to fall into an easy smile.
"Hey, Sato-san! Glad you could come," Takashi said genially, as if the other boy had a choice. "How are you today? Is there anything you think we should start with? Anything besides English is fair game." The smile Takashi flashed glinted with the commercial whiteness of his teeth. Everything he was surrounded by gave him the aura of precise, wealthy fakeness, but Takashi thought he was being pretty genuine.
Takashi shut his textbook with enthusiastic glee. Finally, Sato had arrived. Takashi was getting absolutely nowhere, with his eyes wandering aimlessly over endless rows of miniscule words; he knew without a doubt that Sato (or frankly, anyone, considering the rate at which he was going) could help him out.
Takashi grabbed his books and strode to the library, a light bounce in his step. To put it frankly, the blonde was excited to finally understand what was happening and not look like a dumbass. Takashi wasn't someone with a stifling kind of pride; it didn't wound his ego to ask for help or admit that he was inferior in some aspect, but nonetheless, his desire to emulate the rest of the Kanayamas always prevented him from getting the assistance he
Takashi entered the library, heading to the grand mahogony table in the center of the room without a break in his step. The table was ornately carved on the edges and well taken care of; Takashi could see an impeccable, blemish-free reflection in himself on its smooth surface. It was placed in the very center of the Kanayama library, framed by endless bookcases of a simple, modern design (as to not detract from the centerpiece's floridity), and positioned just so, so that the light coming in from the tall windows hit it in a way that practically illuminated it.
The Kanayamas were images of perfection in every way, and that included their interior design. Nothing was without intention.
Takashi set his books down, taking a seat at the head of the table so that the setting sun was striking the back of the elaborate, embellished chair. Of course, all of the chairs at the table carried the air of luxury (which was enough for the Kanayamas; to the truly wealthy, the vibes were more important than what was materially present), but the head of the table was always given a little more . . . special treatment.
Takashi fiddled around with his pose, arranging his limbs in a way that imitated the way he had seen his father and Rina act so often before, freezing and holding the position when Sato suddenly entered the room. Takashi was taken aback, but he didn't let it shine through his expression, instead allowing his features to fall into an easy smile.
"Hey, Sato-san! Glad you could come," Takashi said genially, as if the other boy had a choice. "How are you today? Is there anything you think we should start with? Anything besides English is fair game." The smile Takashi flashed glinted with the commercial whiteness of his teeth. Everything he was surrounded by gave him the aura of precise, wealthy fakeness, but Takashi thought he was being pretty genuine.