In a span of several seconds, she is at the northern gate to the Rukongai, traveling vast distances with the use of Shunpo. Passing through the gates, she is in awe of the festival like ambiance of the Northern district, brought to life by the commerce and crowds of excited onlookers, eager to see fists flying, teeth knocked out and even lives extinguished. She was not exempt from this very form of savage excitement, hoping to witness such brutality with her very own eyes.
Finally noticed by the people in the crowd, they begin to whisper amongst themselves about the exiled woman, giving their opinion to their friends and companions. She pays them absolutely no mind. What could they, complete strangers say to her that her own family and friends hadn't already said to her to her face. It was almost laughable. Instead, she carries on, unbothered by their opinions or commentary, and delves deeper into the district. The woman's eyes seem to twinkle for the first time at the sight of the different food stalls she had never experienced beyond the walls of the Oki manor, or the prepared meals within the walls of her previous division. This
street food was a first for the exiled noble. Driven by curiosity, and the allure of a sweet scent, she walks up to a simple stall selling
yakiimo. Before the vendor has a chance to charge, she flashes the family's crest, and while it holds very little political power in it's current state, the family's wealth is undeniable. The vendor nods, making note to bill the the Oki estate for the sweet potatoes. As she continues her trek, she stashes all but one in the hidden pockets in her sleeves. Like a void, they disappear into the shadows cast by the fabrics, as she keeps the single wrapped potato out. Carefully, she peels the paper wrap and bites into it, the heat from it's center nearly scalding her if not for her swift thinking to hold the steaming piece of food between her teeth and rapidly inhaling fresh air.
Suddenly, a booming voice she recognizes fills the air, luring everyone to what would be the the betting tent. She smiles, making her way over, and glancing over the crowd of people rushing to place their bets. As she continues to loom over the shorter patrons before her, they begin to part, making way for her to approach the counter. With half the sweet potato in her left hand, she rummages the sleeve with her right hand in search of money.
"Well, well. Let's see here. Let's do 200 on Hageshi, and.... I supposeeeee I'll do 100 on the Oda. Oh, there is that man from her interview... let's do another 100 on him."
She drops the currency on the counter, and points to her third gamble, a completely unknown white-haired variable added into the mix from who-knows-where. But from Omoni's interview playing through the district on repeat, along with the others, as she walked around, she could see the woman's excitement on this random prospect, and that was enough for her to place her bets.
"Had I known it was going to be like this, I would've brought more pocket money!"
Having placed her bets, she walks away fascinated by the atmosphere. Surely, Masahiro would have enjoyed coming here and experiencing all of this for himself. Maybe the boy's father would enjoy the barbarism taking place, now that he was no longer the adjudicator he once was. She scoffs at the fantasy of a happy family like other's seem to have, nothing more than a dream that she will never attain for herself. She dare not even continue to entertain the thought. She resumes her wandering, rather than finding a seat, coming across the very tent each and every interview took place.
"Oh yeah."
Before anyone can think to stop her, she crosses the threshold. Some freeze in shock to not only see her, but dare walk in. Perhaps she was there on business? After all, it had been quite a while since she had seen Yasu. Many knew how close the two once were, perhaps she comes to make amends. Now it is her face plastered across every screen as she finishes the last of her yakiimo and tosses the wrapper into the garbage bin.
"Gah, at least let me finish eating before pointing the cameras in my face."
On a tight schedule, the Captain wastes no time with her barrage of questions. She probably had hundreds to go through. Perhaps on another occasion they will get a chance to catch up.
“Has anyone influenced you to participate in the games?”
"No, I actually just found out this was happening today. I'm glad I was able to make it!"
She chuckles sheepishly, having been a recluse for the last two weeks.
“If you gain the title, will you try for Captaincy?”
" Yare, yare... You know, it never crossed my mind. I was very content as a lieutenant, and now, well... I suppose... Yeah, why not?"
She seems a bit hesitant at first, having been very comfortable as a lieutenant. But she cannot deny the prestige of being a captain will serve to restore honor to her name.
“Outside of yourself, who do you think has the ability to become Kenpachi?”
"Funny you ask that, I
just came from the betting stand, and I didn't even think to bet on myself, if that was even allowed. I didn't think to ask. Well, anyway, I bet on Omo-- Captain Hageshi, Oda, and..."
She rummages through the very same cards Omoni had seen earlier, where she saw the the picture of the white-haired man.
"...this guy. I don't know who he is, but Hageshi seemed really excited about him. And you know she loves a good fight."
“Do you have high hopes that your competition will put up a good fight?”
"In all honesty, I hope
I can put up a good fight for my opponent. It's been a while since I did anything dangerous, aside the little kerfuffle on the Oki clan grounds with Captain Mukuro.. I'm actually quite rusty."
She chuckles once more, the nerves beginning to creep in as these questions continued. Perhaps the oldest competitor and the most out of practice in battle to take part in these games, Honoka can't help but feel a certain sense of looming dread as the minutes tick by.
“Do you have any words to share before you step into the field?”
"Give it everything you got, and I'll give it everything I got! I don't want to leave with
any regrets!"
Making a fist with her hand, the educator punches the air softly towards the camera. Posing for a dynamic shot.
Honoka doesn't exactly expect to win the title, nor is she vying for it tooth and nail like other competitors. Her true purpose for joining the games is to release the pent up aggression and frustration she's harbored as of late. With no real outlet at her disposal to violently lash out, it wears away at her, stressing and hindering her. This is a rare opportunity for the woman to let lose and be as violent and barbaric as she once was.
With the interview done, she rummages through her pockets, pulling out a yakiimo and tossing it to Yasu, still warm to the touch. Surely she'd appreciate the fine cuisine of the local residents just as she did. With that, she steps out of the tent, opening a second wrapped potato to snack on as her eyes scan for a good seat to watch from the sidelines by her lonesome until her very own name is called.
