Yukio stared at the gates. We've got problems.
He unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and brought it to his face. “Urufu?”
“Yukio here. There are two buses with television teams at the gates, and they're brining gear inside the school grounds.” He stared once more. That's the least of our problems.
“Local media, I guess. Let them inside, or better, have the student council do it. It's their show anyway. Over.”
The voice from the loudspeaker carried with it Urufu's very personal version of being a moron. “Man, turn on your brains. They're here right now and I don't have the time to run to the council room.” He remembered Urufu's instructions on radio communications. “Over,” he added.
The loudspeaker blared to life again. A static crackle, silence and more crackle. “… this piece of crap work?” a female voice said. And then some more crackle. “… push this button when you speak.” That voice was male. Then there was silence and after that even more crackle.
“You, the guy before. I'll get down to you.” Once again the voice was female.
The guy before glared at his walkie talkie. What the hell? “Yukio here. Please identify yourself when you speak. Over.” The guy before, my arse!
“This is the student council president speaking. Where are you?” the female voice said.
Yukio watched the students closest to him stare from their stall. Or at least some of them did. Most wore scared looks and had their eyes glued to the gates.
“Yukio here. I'm at the gates. President, how many guests do we usually have for the festival? Over.” This can't be good.