I'd preferred to end the formality fast, but my own carelessness had sabotaged me. I forgot to specify to Remy that I only needed to meet the heads of the families. The result? Over six hundred people crammed into my ancestral home, and more money spent than I cared to acknowledge.
I felt like simply cutting off my hand. Shaking so many sweaty palms was repulsive. Why were they all sweating so profusely? If you're a known muppet of sweat, offer a fist bump. That kind of clever thinking might save your business, but alas, they were just sweating muppets.
The whole affair was disastrous, but I did end up seeing a lot of potential future classmates. Every fear I held solidified: they were all stiff, stuffy, and artificial. While I allowed for the possibility that they were policed by their parents, if this was the general atmosphere, my high school life was destined to be lonely.
And the optics! The rich nobility arrives and immediately throws a lavish reception for the city's elite. God, it sounded so obnoxious and cliché. This couldn't have started worse, short of me choking on the hors d'oeuvres. God, how I hated pretentious linguistic nonsense like that. Was there something wrong with the word appetizers?
I found myself on the balcony, seeking refuge and fresh air, my eyes drawn to ASUNA. Its purple expanse was perfectly blended with the night sky, nearly invisible save for the vast absence of stars around it. But it was there. And one day, it would Rip. Monsters of unimaginable magnitude would swarm this land, and these fine, sweating people inside would become nothing more than food. The lands of my ancestors would drown in an endless nightmare.
My thoughts were interrupted by a girl. They had introduced her earlier, but the name hadn't registered; I hadn't even tried. I simply acknowledged her presence and returned my gaze to the sky.
She walked up beside me and looked up herself.
We stood there in that shared, charged silence. I eventually studied her. She wore a striking red dress, was nearly my height, and possessed a slender frame. Her straight, long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a pair of glasses obscured her white pupils from my gaze. She seemed lost in a world of her own making. I appreciated her silence, enjoying the cool night air and her unexpected company.
Finally, she turned to me. She offered a small, sincere smile, and then, without uttering a single word, she simply left, drawing my attention to the graceful sway of her hips and the length of her legs as she went. I wished she'd told me her name before leaving.
~
The night ended, and I never saw the girl again. Sleep was elusive. The flashing, useless images of my nightmare returned, waking me before I could grasp any detail.
Almost choking on the morning water—her smiling face in the literal sense—I nearly fulfilled my own prophecy. I kept wishing for a name tag, anything. Donkey, I thought, chastising my former self, you could've said something instead of playing stargazer for twenty minutes.
Thinking back, she looked like someone who genuinely wanted to be alone. She hadn't wanted to shatter the moment, nor did she want to be rude enough to ask me to vacate my own balcony. Perhaps if she had spoken, the spell would have broken, and she would have become as obnoxious as the rest. Her white pupils promised I might see her again tomorrow.
With six hours until school started, I needed rest. I prayed and forcibly emptied my mind of both nightmares and cute girls, finally falling back to sleep.
I woke refreshed and—surprisingly—optimistic. After greeting the maids, I sought out Remy for last-minute advice.
"Young Lord, you must prepare yourself for a degree of culture shock," Remy lectured, munching on a piece of fruit. "The Japanese people, while changed by the last century, remain deeply traditional. Their ancient customs are taken very seriously. Ignoring or refusing to adhere to them will cause immediate friction."
I scooped some cereal, trying to look attentive. "Remy, as much as I appreciate the cultural lecture, I'll be fine. If I don't destroy anything today, I'll count it as a victory. I just need to act polite and... humbled. You know the drill. Piece of cake."
My uniform, white on blue with a mixed reverse pattern, had arrived before I even settled in. It looked acceptable and somewhat matched my dark hair.
"Need me to walk you, Young Lord?" Remy asked, rising.
"Yes, Remy, but only if I can hold your hand as we cross the street. No, I don't need an escort. If you get bored, I hear this country is packed with entertainment. Go find it. Similarly, I don't need to be picked up. I'll see you later."
I made my way outside, quickly checking that I wasn't being followed. The school was literal walking distance. I saw kids in similar uniforms ahead of me, talking, laughing, and walking together. It hit me again: these people probably knew each other their entire lives. Would I have been more comfortable among the entitled brats of the Capital? Probably. But I was neck-deep here now; pondering it was pointless.
A few students noticed me. I recognized some faces from the party. Some offered slight, respectful bows of acknowledgment. The rest simply looked a blend of nervous and overly excited. No one approached. I spent the rest of the walk lost in my own thoughts.
Walking into the school hall caused a bizarre phenomenon: the students parted like the Red Sea. I was enveloped in a sudden, thick silence. I wanted to ask where the Headmaster's office was, but not a single student would hold eye contact long enough for me to start a conversation. I saw several students notice the unnatural stillness, take one look at me, and immediately turn around, heading the opposite direction.
I had expected some level of awe, but this felt like I was sucking the fun out of their entire high school experience. I needed an adult who at least had the professional obligation to look at me.
The silence was stifling. All these kids just staring. I wanted to quicken my pace but felt that would show a weakness—a desire to escape. For a split second, I considered using my eyes, just erasing this awkward bubble. What would it change? I'd still walk in solitude, but at least this growing irritation in my chest would be gone.
I finally spotted an older woman, red-haired and in her thirties, greeting other children with a kind, genuine smile.
The surrounding whispers were growing louder as the hall filled. I waited until she was free and approached.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm looking for the Headmaster's office. A Mr. Isherwell," I said, reading the name off my phone.
"I see. Is there something I can help with? The Headmaster is quite busy on the first day of term," she said, giving me a knowing, gentle smile. "My name is Honoka Miura, the Guidance Counselor. Nice to meet you."
Miss Miura was natural, bubbly, and exactly what I imagined a Guidance Counselor should be. I was profoundly relieved she was speaking to me like a normal person.
I handed her the sealed letter Mr. Isherwell had sent to Remy on the plane, the one that confirmed my enrollment was planned ages ago.
She looked confused by my sudden silence and the offering of the letter, but her gentle smile remained fixed. "I was told to head straight to his office. My guardian called ahead this morning," I offered as an explanation.
I waited for her to finish reading. Her reaction was immediate and dramatic, instantly killing my slightly improved mood. Students behind me were now craning their necks, waiting for the next act in this sitcom.
"Oh! I—I'm terribly sorry for being so informal! Welcome to Kingsom Lifesc—umm—High School. It is truly an honor, My Lord Avesta." She bowed low.
Ugh. God. The constant buzzing of students whispering a few feet away was already giving me a headache.
"Please, Miss... I'm here as a student. Please treat me as such," I stated, making sure the final part was loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear.
"Yes! Yes, of course! Let me take you to the Headmaster's office. I'm sure he's waiting even as we speak. Shall we?" she asked, still frozen in her unnecessary bow.
Stop bowing. If she hadn't understood my words, the rest of these children certainly wouldn't. I simply smiled and nodded for her to lead the way.
The office was a mere thirty seconds away. She could have simply pointed. She walked past a woman who looked like an assistant. The assistant started to stop her, saw me trailing behind, and immediately recognized me, sitting back down with wide, startled eyes.
Miura gave a quick, respectful knock, stepped in, and held the door for me, looking inexplicably thrilled by the simple task.
"Professor Isherwell, may I introduce Lord Stivastin Avesta, our new student," she announced, walking ahead of me. Among hundreds of others, but fine. I gave her a grateful, small head-bob, and she—of course—bowed again.
Headmaster Max Isherwell, the Flame of Moira, looked well for a man in his sixties: shoulder-length black hair, clean-shaven. Remy had briefed me: a local Evolved celebrity, known for his hot sauce brand and spice mixes. Hot sauce? The man definitely leaned heavily on his fire element. Delicious, yes, but heavy-handed. He must be making serious money.
"My Lord, Mr. Bennett told me only an hour ago that you would be starting tomorrow. We were going to meet you at the entrance—there was talk of local TV crews..." he said, his disappointment obvious.
Oh, thank you, Remy.
"Oh yes, I changed my mind. I apologize for the inconvenience. It's my pleasure, Professor Isherwell. Please, call me Stivastin. Thank you for having me."
"The pleasure is all mine! Welcome to Kingsom Academy for the Evolved. If there is anything at all I can do for you or your family, please don't hesitate to see me straight away. My doors are always open for students." The words were syrupy, but the meaning was clear: My door will always be open for your family's influence.
"I will, Headmaster. Both my family and I appreciate that," I responded. I might as well use him if the need arose.
I couldn't escape the initial tour. They walked me around for over an hour, ensuring I missed my first class. During the break, the students watched me, accompanied by the Headmaster and, inexplicably, the Guidance Counselor. It felt like I was showing them around, as they both maintained a half-step distance behind me at all times.
"Now, let us continue to the sports facilities. Shall we?" Isherwell asked, pointing the way.
I was done.
"If you don't mind, I will finish the tour later and join my class now." My words were polite, but my patience was worn thin by their inability to act normally. If they couldn't control themselves, how could they expect teenagers to?
"A-Absolutely! Oh, look at the time. Miss Miura, please escort Lord Avesta to his class. It's 1-A."
"It will be my pleasure, My Lord."
"Yes. Thank you for your time. It was an honor to meet Moira's Flame in person," I said with a slight, polite smile—a smile that died instantly as I watched a man in his sixties visibly blush. I vowed never to witness such a sight again.
Miss Miura walked me to my class, attempting small talk, but I wasn't in the mood to entertain anyone.
"...and this is your class. As Guidance Counselor, we will see each other eventually, but I am always available for all students."
"I appreciate it, and I will keep that in mind."
"Now, let me just inform your homeroom teacher about the reason for your absence, and I'll be on my way."
Walking in behind her, I took my first look at the people with whom, for better or worse, I would spend the next four years.