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A golden tiara donned with a single, round emerald, green hair done in pig-tails, a cute round face; that’s the Sana behind the shield. She wears a dark green, long-sleeved, vertical-striped turtle-neck cashmere sweater, with only her chest and upper arm wrapped in steel on top of it. The skirt, white with green motifs, is only frilly at the sides, wrapped in place by a brown belt that looks very normal- all she ever wanted to be.
And yet… you sigh, dramatically, drawing some frantic looks from the girl. ‘Kaname-san’. At this point you’d even settle for ‘Kaname-sama’ but… no, there’s no point in fretting about it. Sana is the type to cement her feelings through hard work. That is how she’ll show her respect, you think as you cram her inside a satellite as if she was a napkin.
λ Sana: Kaname-san?! AaaaH!!
Respecting your elders is a thing of the past, but then again- do you want to be the elder? You give it some thought as you put that winged chunk of metal in your mouth and grab the blowgun Homura used to shoot you in the ass with. Spending time doing taxes inside a cubicle won’t make you smart even if you stay two hundred years, except maybe when it comes to math. But wisdom, you think as you aim at a specific point in the orphan timeline, takes misery. Maybe that’s what’s going to make Sana a good choice.
λ Sana: Kaname-saaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
A perfect shot, down to the millimeter. You shiver, sweating; nobody saw how glorious that was. It was lost, forever. A head then peeks from the Law of Cycles, and almost in desperation you ask it if she just saw that awesome shit.
λ Nagisa: Nagisa wants to go too! Nagisa is a good girl! I swear it!
You laugh and laugh and gently push her inside with your thumb. You know that the Law of Cycles had gone a bit hectic with all the gambling and selective cat breeding for races, but at least that will help teach Nagisa Momoe not to cross a god.
