Alternate Entrance - Kyuua
Kyuua was on a mission. A very important mission. But we can talk about that later.
Being the social-retard he was, Kyuua had been instructed in the various forms of etiquette in preparation. Which knife, fork and/or spoon to use, how to ask politely where the bathroom was, and when was a good time to call it a day. Small, petty things such as this had been Kyuuas study topic for weeks.
He had even been gifted with a pocket dictionary from one of his mentors, who had said, with a smile, having presented the small black book, Use this when you find that special someone.
On the day in question, Kyuua was trying to recall what another, harsher teacher had told him to do when he needed to gain entrance to anothers abode. For some reason, the memory evaded him, which was actually not so surprising, as, at the time, he had been practising dislocating his ankle and popping it back into place, an action he was now a professional at.
Now, what had she said? K