In the Nakamura family mansion's dining hall, hundreds of children were scattered throughout the space like ants.
The hall itself was not small or less awe-inspiring—its ceilings soared high enough to make you dizzy if you stared up too long, massive chandeliers shaped like crystals sending bright glittering lights across the room, walls lined with long framed windows and so on.
Some children were moving toward their destinations through the crowd with ease. Others had clustered into small groups, chatting with each other loudly and laughing heartily. Some others also were serving themselves from the elaborate buffet tables that nearly lined one entire wall.
The noise level was considerable, not enough to cause discomfort like the chaotic roar you'd expect from hundreds of young people gathered in one place.
