<i>Not knowing what to make of his ample free time, Kazuo decided that it would be best if he got back into studying for once. All he knew, all he could ever do was entirely linked to what he could understand, for &quot;If you can understand it, then you can probably replicate it&quot;, that was his motto, even if the &quot;probably&quot; part wasn't of his liking.</i> &quot;Once I know all there is to know in a single life, that word should disappear.&quot; <i>He makes his way inside of the classroom with a single book in hand and a big backpack on his back. Kazuo looks around and noticed some...kind of peculiar individuals, people he would only see in an anime or manga, which is interesting given the smaller girl's read. Without wanting to lose much time and waving with big smile on his face, he tries to get people's attention.</i> &quot;Hey! Figured I should say hi first if everyone came here to check. My name is Kazuo Fabian, it's a real pleasure.&quot;

&quot;I believe the word you are looking for is &quot;Tyranny&quot;, my dear. And this poem has no actual set meaning besides the way I interpret it.&quot; <i>Kazuo goes back to the place he was sitting at and opened up his book once more. Clearing his throat once more, he keeps speaking.</i> &quot;I just mashed words that felt right together, and I interpret them as...&quot; <i>For the first time in minutes he looks up at where Natsuki was sitting. His eyes may seem a bit too intense when looking straight at them, almost as if they were studying everything they gazed upon, reaching out to the very souls of people. Of course this was not literal in any way. He chuckles a bit at his sudden idea of him literally touching somebody's soul with his deep and intense eyes.</i> &quot;Ambition.&quot;

<i>After a quick nod at the young man's departure, and bowing at Senri as a sign of appraisal, he moves forward with a white piece of paper in hand. His face seemed calm and his eyes cold, a quick look at this one's face would reveal a strange expression, similar to the scorching of earth or a war raging in the distance. Clearing his throat, he hold his piece of paper with nothing but his thumb and index finger.</i> <b><center>At the center of beginning it burns. With incandescent passion the King of old arose. Holding the manuscript in one hand. His sword in its sheath. Like a pencil, it cut down the irregularities; Flaming realities; It waited for it to revolt underneath. At the center of beginning it questions thee: &quot;Why must you seek?&quot; He answers: &quot;For it is all mine, and it all bows down to my heed&quot; Radical and extremist opression, he tears it down. For all he touches and sees, it's his. At the center of beginning it burns. With incandescent passion the Seeker of now arose. Holding the manuscript in one hand, He now owns this land.</center></b>

&quot;I see people here have a warm and casual way of talking to others, I have to admit I expected the stereotypical bookworm kind of deal, however...&quot; <i>Kazuo quickly moves towards a nearby desk and lays against the back of his seat with one hand inside of his right pocket and with his book open on his left. The back of the book could be clearly seen now, and it read &quot;Thus Spoke Zarathustra&quot;. Still looking at the book and reading through it, he moves to the next page and speaks up once again.</i> &quot;...I think I was wrong. I can see I will learn plenty in this place, and hopefully Miss Natsuki can bring interesting subjects as you all, I will try to do my best in that regard.&quot; <i>Moving to the next page, Kazuo yawns.</i>

<i>Kazuo claps around 5 times in a kind of lazy way, closing his book and leaving it on top of the desk right after marking the page he was in. Eyes closed, he analyzed the poem. Regardless of his thoughts on theme and dislike over romanticism, he spoke his mind.</i> &quot;It's not bad at all, but it doesn't sound much as a poem and rather a small piece of narration. That's my opinion at this moment because I actually lack any technical knowledge on poems. But...&quot; <i>Pulling out a small notebook from his backpack and a pencil, he slowly begins to write.</i> &quot;Since you had the courage to recite it, I hope you don't mind if I do that in a minute or two with a little something, I just need to write it.&quot; [i]Not once did he look at anyone else in the group while saying this, and now that he was deep in thought, along with his swift pencil movements, he didn't seem like he could get di

&gt;Take Frodo

&gt;Kill Golden Yu

&gt;Kiss Frodo

&gt;Kill Frodo

As the local romance languages connoisseur I find the lack of commas disturbing. What does grammar have to do with a language? Nothing. Moral of the story: Don't say swears