While holding an envelope with my Certificate of Transfer Eligibility, I was walking down the corridor when I noticed them—even from a distance. Though the president wasn't with them this time, they were still hard to miss. Like the rest of us, they wore the academy's white and gold uniform, but something about the way they carried themselves made them feel... different. Sharper. Stricter. On their left arms were sleek gold armbands with O.O.D. stitched in neat white thread—Office of Ordinance and Discipline of the College Tier. As they drew closer, I quickly stepped aside to let them pass, but to my surprise, they stopped right in front of me.
Eh?
xxx
"Hey! Why are you here?"
"I forgot my insignia nameplate," I answered to the girl who asked from the opposite corner of the room.
I quickly glanced at her—the girl sitting across from me. Vivienne Williams. With no belongings allowed here, she's twirling her hair and blowing a gum in her mouth, out of boredom. Perfectly styled hair, sharp eyes lined with confidence, or arrogance—I couldn't tell.
She was the queen bee and the biggest bully of her senior year. Now that she's in college, let's see if she still wears the crown. They say she's a regular at Block 11—the holding area for the secondary level. It held the noise of teenagers and uniform rules. Block 12, on the other hand, was for the College Tier. But why is she here now? What did she do this time?
And yes, the OOD sent me to Block 12.
Everyone knows what that means, even if no one really talks about it. Block 12 is a huge white, windowless room buried somewhere deep in the east wing of this academy. No clock, no sound—just walls, floor, and ceiling in the same blinding shade of white. Even the armchairs are white—plush, spotless, and far too comfortable for a place meant to feel like punishment. They say you can be kept here for up to twelve hours, but it's hard to tell how long you've actually been inside. Time doesn't seem to move the same way here. It feels slow, heavy, and endless. It's like a detention or holding room while the OOD reviews your case and decides whether or not to issue formal sanctions.
All that... just because I wasn't wearing my insignia nameplate. Because the truth is I destroyed it that night.
But I was telling and explaining to them that I didn't need it anymore and that I didn't have to get a new one because I was planning to transfer out so I can ful—
"Woah!" Vivienne exclaimed after the bubble gum she was blowing popped in her mouth. She slowly clapped her hands when she saw the person who entered the door of Block 12—the one who'd be joining us. "Is this for real?" she asked teasingly.
WTF.
My jaw almost dropped and my eyes nearly popped out in shock when I saw her. What in the fvcking coincidence is this? I can't believe I'm seeing. And yes, I'm exaggerated.
Is this even real?!
A fiery red-haired girl from Eikō Academy walked through the door. With that bright dye, her violation was hard to miss.
"The one and only Majesty Michaelis is in Kronen!" sigaw ni Vivienne. But despite Vivienne's loud, irritating voice, my eyes stay on her—Michaelis.
She's here, dressed in Kronen's white and gold. I had no idea she is enrolled here for college. Everyone at Eikō Academy knew her name—Majesty Michaelis.
"Trouble on your first day?" Vivienne asked, eyeing Michaelis from head to toe. That look—like she thought she was better than everyone else. My eyes rolled on instinct.
"Red hair? What are you, a walking warning sign?" she teased, but Michaelis ignored her and simply sat down on an armchair in the middle of the room, burying her face into it.
"Hey!" Vivienne tried to get Michaelis's attention as she stood up and walked toward her seat.
She still didn't respond, even after she repeatedly kicked the leg of her chair. What's with her?
"Don't ignore me, bitch," Vivienne snapped, her tone shifting—sharp enough to make Michaelis lift her head and finally look at her.
Uh-oh.
To go up against someone from Eikō Academy—that takes guts. Lumens—students of Eikō—have a reputation. They carry themselves with this sharp, don't-mess-with-me energy, like they've seen more than they should and won't hesitate to prove it. Most of them walk like they own the streets, always ready to start a fight or throw the first punch especially the college crowd. I've encountered plenty of students from Eikō, and I'm telling you, it's all true.
Majesty and her group were no different—bold, feared, with an aura that, they say, hits you before their words do. I've never actually met her, but you hear things. People talk. She's infamous for a reason. People knew her name since junior high—not just in Eikō, but in every neighboring schools. They're just built different, they say.
But the problem now is she's in Vivienne's territory. She's a lone wolf here.
"Ms. Williams," called the staff as the door of the holding room opened, making all of us turn our heads at once. "You may leave now," the staff continued.
"What about me?" Michaelis also asked the staff. The impatience! She just got here, and I've been waiting forever.
I heard Vivienne scoff.
"Go get some connection first, queen-wannabe—AAAAAHHHH!"
Everything happened so fast. A loud high-pitched scream echoed in this enclosed white room, snapping me out of my daze. My eyes went wide. Now all I could see was Vivienne—kneeling in front of Michaelis. Her sharp eyes gazed down at Vivienne, cold and unblinking, while Vivienne's hand rested on the desk attached to Michaelis's armchair.
She stabbed her. Right in the palm. With a fountain pen that I don't even know where it came from.
It all happened so fast, I couldn't even react.
And the craziest part? She did it while still sitting on her armchair.
Slowly, my hand flew to cover my mouth, which had been left open. I don't know why but that was a satisfying sight.
"Enough!" the staff shouted from the door.
"Call me that again, and your fingers will be down to nine," Michaelis said to Vivienne in a cold, monotone voice. But I also felt the chill run down my spine.
Vivienne's face twisted in pain, but no sound came out of her mouth. It was like her voice had vanished. Now, we could hear the dripping of blood on the floor, slipping through her fingers.
And the next thing I heard was the siren of an ambulance.
Well, I take back what I said—I don't think she needs company.
But…
I want to be her company.
"M—Michaelis," I called, while she remained seated, calmly wiping the fountain pen with a white handkerchief. And yet she didn't seem bothered at all by the splatters of blood on her white uniform. And on the floor.
"I want to be your friend," I blurted out without thinking.
But I was ignored.
"Can we be friends?" I asked, but she stood up to move to another seat at the opposite corner of the room—so I also got up and followed her.
"Ashiya," I called her instinctively by her second name. She stopped and turned her head to look at me—slowly, sharply. Her eyes met mine with a cold, cutting stare, sending a strange unease crawling through me.
"Stop bothering me," she said in a low voice.
"I—"
Suddenly, the fountain pen was an inch away from my eye.
"Don't make me say things twice," she warned me. "Take another step and you'll be blind."
I felt the sudden sting in my eyes as tears welled up—I couldn't even blink.
"Ms. Dayanara Yamato, please proceed to—" another staff began as the door of Block 12 opened, but suddenly stopped mid-sentence. "What are you two doing?"
"W-we're introducing…"
I was still talking when Michaelis just casually walked away and headed to the armchair in the corner of the room, dropping onto it lazily.
WTH. Like she didn't commit something horrible five seconds ago.
I thanked the staff after they handed me my confiscated belongings so I could finally leave.
I turned to look at the door of Block 12. I hope that was my first and last time there.
I remembered what happened—and the blood-red blot inside.
Kronen is a prestigious school, known for its elegance and strict rules. Eikō, on the other hand, is a whole different kind of academy. And yet, I can't help but wonder—why is she here? Why did she enroll, despite all that?
Possibly, this is the first time that this pure white room has been stained.
What am I feeling? I can't help but smirk.
Is this a declaration of war on the OOD?
Or a war against Kronen?
But then a flash of white brushed past me, not hurried, not slow—just… calculated. I froze. There, stepping through the entrance of Block 12, was someone I almost missed.
Clad in the white and gold of Kronen, he moved with quiet authority, as if even the walls acknowledged his rank. His coat rested on his shoulders, its tailored lines catching the air like a cape. A sleek gold armband caught the sterile lights just before the door shut behind him.
That was him.
The president of OOD.