I carried by the knot the 3 boxes of the extra uniforms I was given using the rope cradle they were tied in, while holding the map in my right hand.
Comparing the map to the size of the school's layout made me wonder if anyone had gotten lost navigating the building's halls and turns. It was huge, probably comparable to a cathedral church if not bigger.
Navigating the building with a bunch of labels I couldn't read was about as frustrating as cleaning a stubborn stain out of some clothes. It was a headache, and I had to rely on memory of the few locations I've visited. Luckily halls in the building didn't often repeat, so there was little possibility of me taking a wrong detour.
I should label this map in my language to make it less confusing.
Eventually, I found myself next to the 10 statues I couldn't get a good look at last time. Like before, their nameplates appeared cryptic.
Seeing them made me curious as to what the original inspirations for the statues did for their likeness to be memorialized.
Suddenly another voice entered my ears. It was a woman's.
I turned and saw the voice's owner appear from around the corner.
She had grey hair but looked to be in her 20s. Her figure was slim, and her breasts were a medium size. Square-frame glasses rested on her face along with a white turtleneck that hugged her figure and a blue skirt that ended above her ankles.
Since I encountered female students on the walk here, I could only guess that this woman is a teacher.
With how many syllables she's speaking to me, she doesn't know that I can't give her a show of fluency in her language. How do I communicate my inability to speak and understand?
She stopped speaking and stared at me, awaiting my response.
Fuck it.
"I'm afraid I can't give you a satisfactory answer." I raised the boxes I held, making sure it was eye-level at her height, before resting my arm.
She looked surprised, stunned even.
I merely pointed behind her with the map in hand before walking past the woman, hoping that was enough to convey my intentions.
She spoke more syllables, raising her voice, but I ignored her, not wanting to engage in a one-sided conversation.
I opened the door leading to the dorm where I'd be staying, and walked across the dirt path once more.
—
Finding Kiori's room wasn't difficult thanks to this world using the same number system I grew up with.
The key I was given looked laughably simpler than the keys in my past life, like antique keys you'd see in mystery novels with Victorian settings.
Wanting to rest my arms from carrying the spare uniforms I was given, I set them down then quickly inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The door unlocked with an audible click.
I put the key in my pocket, retrieved the boxes I had put down, and pushed open the door.
Woah.
The room looked cozy, contrary to my preconceived notions. I initially imagined that the amount of furniture would be minimal since it's a school dorm, but it looked like a proper bedroom decorated to my summoner's tastes.
A neatly made bed lay alongside the window letting in plenty of sunlight. Across the foot of the bed was a bookshelf holding a sizeable collection, with the shelf itself no taller than the bed. From a glance, there appeared to be at least 20 books. Next to the shelf was a simple chair and desk, presumably for work or study. Built into the wall on my left was a large cupboard. The contents it held, which I assumed were clothes, were secured behind some double doors. To my right, snug to the wall parallel to me was a series of drawers. On top of that was the first box Mr. Blonde gave me.
I placed the 3 extra uniforms I was given next to the first box and placed the timetable schedule and calendar I was given on the desk.
With my hands finally free, I looked around the room, being careful not to disturb the tidiness to behold.
Giving the window a second look, the window sill was wide enough to sit on, even being cushioned for sitting comfortably. The spot looked comfy enough to lie on if you propped your back against either of the window sills' walls.
I knelt to observe my summoner's collection of books. Similar to the nameplates I saw earlier, the titles on the spines were written in cryptic characters. Of all the books I saw, the one that caught my attention was the thickest book on the shelf, having a white, equilateral triangle marked in the middle of its black, leatherbound spine.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I ended up pulling the book out, unconcerned with my summoner's privacy and my lack of upholding morals.
The book had a weight to it that I bet the others on the shelf wouldn't compare to, heavier than the 3 boxes of uniforms I had carried here. A golden ribbon was bound to the spine, resting between pages, serving as a bookmark.
The cover itself looked aged, and its pages yellow. The rest of the books in comparison looked newer, perhaps a few years old. The black book appeared as though it witnessed eras.
With nothing better to do for 2 days, I opened the book. Pages were filled from top to bottom in that indecipherable text. Like an elementary schooler with a terrible attention span, I flipped through the pages, spotting different diagrams with alien designs.
Why am I acting like I'll get anything useful from this? I can't read shit!
I frustratedly skimmed through the rest of the book while contemplating between slamming it shut and treating it like a sacred museum piece.
Then I noticed something familiar within the pages.
Hang on a minute.
I blinked before rubbing my eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on me.
It was a diagram of the same three obelisk altar I was summoned on!
All of a sudden, my summoner and Mr. Blonde's behavior seemed much more suspicious.
Questions raced through my mind as I stared at the image in the book.
How long has this been a practice?
What do they want to do with me?
Are there others like me who've been summoned to this world?
Who else has performed a summon on the altar?
Have others struggled with the same language barrier I have?
Are some of the students here summoned?
All of these questions raced through my mind, yet I have zero ways to get the answers I seek.
Actually, Mr. Blonde could give me semblances of answers if I act a good charade, but how do I know he isn't telling selective truths? With this stupid language barrier, I can't discern complexities.
I gently closed the book and carefully put it back on the shelf where I found it.
Suddenly, my stomach growled.
I really need to get some food. Can't think on an empty stomach.
I grabbed the map and double-tapped my pocket to ensure I still had my room key before exiting the room in search of my first meal in this world.