Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A voice was heard in the void, a hand stretched out as if inviting.
“Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor. My proud flower of evil. You are truly the fairest of them all.”

“O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat… Reveal unto me the visage I see…”

“you who manage the Dark Mirror did beckon forth… If you heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror”
”As flames reduces start to ash. As ice seals away time itself. As great tree swallow even the sky. Fear not the power of darkness. Now- demonstrate your power.”
”To them, to me, to yourself. The hour glows long time and time is sarce. Keep your grip steady, no matter what may come…”

It was dark.

Yue’s eyes fluttered open, luminous like molten silver laced with twilight. Her lashes, long and delicate, cast soft shadows upon her porcelain skin. There was an uncanny stillness around her, and when she blinked, the silence seemed to pause with her—as though the very world held its breath.

A thick, oppressive darkness wrapped around her, too dense to be natural. Instinctively, she reached out. Her fingertips brushed against something cold and unyielding, a surface too close, too solid. She shifted slightly, her back meeting another hard barrier. The space was cramped. Suffocating. Her senses sharpened as realization crept in.

I’m trapped.

Still, her breath remained measured. Panic tried to claw its way up her throat, but Yue pushed it down. She forced herself to focus, to think clearly. Where was I last? Fragments of memory flickered in her mind.

Shisho’s office. There had been a mirror. Not just any mirror, it had spoken. A man’s voice, faint and disembodied, like a whisper from a half-remembered dream. What did he say? The details eluded her, slipping through her thoughts like mist.

But now wasn’t the time to chase whispers. Survival came first.

Yue braced herself, raising a hand to gently knock against the surrounding walls. Hollow thuds echoed softly with each tap. She moved methodically, her touch gliding along the enclosed surfaces, feeling for any give, any weak point. No hinges. No seams. Not wood. Not metal… Stone, perhaps? Or enchanted?

She clenched her fist, preparing to strike harder when something unexpected happened—faint voices filtered through the oppressive silence, muffled and hurried.

“Darn, people will come soon!”

A pause. The shuffling of fabric.

“I have to wear the uniform, fast… Nggggh! This lid is so heavy…”

Yue held her breath. Someone was close. Very close.

The voice came again, louder this time, laced with urgency and frustration.
“If it’s come to this… gonna have to use my last resort! Ngg… there!!”

With a sudden creak and a groan of strained effort, the world above Yue shifted. Light—dim, but blinding compared to the pitch darkness, spilled in from a crack as something heavy was moved. Her eyes narrowed instinctively, adjusting.

So I was sealed in… a container? A box? No, more like a crate or a coffin...

As the opening widened, Yue’s fingers twitched, ready to summon magic, to defend or attack if needed. Her mind raced. Was I captured? Set up? Was the mirror a trap? Who is this person?

But for now, she waited in silence, concealed by shadows and thoughts, watching as her cage began to open and the truth edged closer.

With a loud BOOM, the door to her confinement blasted open, sending a cloud of dust and smoke into the air. Yue shielded her face with one hand, coughing as she squinted through the haze. Her long, jet-black hair billowed slightly from the force of the blast. As the dust settled, her vision focused on a small, odd-looking creature before her.

Her long, jet-black hair fluttered in the wake of the explosion, strands lifting like silk caught in a breeze. As the dust began to settle in lazy spirals around her, her vision adjusted, hazy outlines giving way to clearer shapes.

She blinked once. Then again.

Standing before her, framed by the lingering smoke, was a creature that defied easy description.

It was small, barely reaching her knee and covered in sleek gray fur, interrupted only by a clean white patch on its chest. Its paws, delicately shaped and tipped with soft pink pads, twitched with agitation. But what truly caught her attention were the flickering blue flames that burned from its ears, casting an eerie glow across its face and illuminating its vivid, electric-blue eyes. The flames shimmered with strange energy, refusing to go out even in the still air.

A forked tail lashed behind it, sharp and twitchy like an exclamation mark of frustration, while a slightly crooked black-and-white striped bow tie hung around its neck. The ribbon was frayed at the edges, and a small purple gemstone glinted at the center, dull and cracked, but still humming faintly with magic.

What… in the world is that? Yue’s brows drew together, her expression calm but alert. She noticed then the strange weight over her head, her hand moved reflexively, brushing against a hood she didn’t recall putting on. Beneath it, her bangs had fallen in soft, wispy strands across her forehead, parted slightly to the side, giving her an air of gentle, distant melancholy. The look belied the sharp focus in her eyes, the cool calculation behind her silence.

Her hair long, dark, and glossy was styled with a surprising elegance, a flowing braid laid over her shoulder with meticulous care, while the rest of her tresses spilled in smooth waves down her back, gathered neatly into a low ponytail. Who… dressed me like this?

Before she could form the next thought, the creature muttered something under its breath.

“Well then, well then, here’s our aim…” it said distractedly, its voice unusually articulate, almost theatrical. But then its gaze locked with hers.

The effect was immediate.

“Gyaaah!” it shrieked, flailing backward in panic. “Why are you awake already?!”

Yue tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady, unbothered by the outburst. “A… talking raccoon?” she murmured to herself, the slightest edge of curiosity in her voice.

The creature froze mid-flail, eyes twitching. “Who’s the raccoon, huh?!” it snapped, puffing up with exaggerated offense. “I am Grim-sama! A being of immense wisdom and power! Show some respect!”

It stomped one tiny paw on the ground, the flames on its ears flaring with indignation. Yue blinked slowly, her lips curving, barely into a subtle smile, though her expression remained composed. She watched the little being with mild amusement, the kind one might give a kitten that thinks itself a lion.

Grim huffed, clearly flustered by her lack of response. He straightened, smoothed out his frazzled bow tie with great ceremony, then leveled a ‘fearsome’ glare at her that only made his round face seem more puffed up and ridiculous.

Yue said nothing.

Instead, her silver eyes swept the surroundings, the memory of the mirror, the voice, and the sense of disorientation still fresh in her mind. Where am I? Her fingers flexed slightly against her side. The air still carried the aftertaste of magic, and something about this entire situation felt... deliberately staged.

She glanced around, taking in the scene.

A faint, greenish glow shimmered across the glossy black walls of the vast, echoing hall. Yue’s eyes slowly adjusted as she took in her surroundings, an otherworldly sight that sent a chill down her spine. Above her loomed a massive domed ceiling, barely visible in the gloom, its height exaggerated by the shadowy arches that stretched toward it like skeletal fingers. Suspended from the ceiling, a series of chain-linked chandeliers swung gently, casting their ghostly emerald light in soft pulses, as if breathing.

That same sickly glow reflected off dozens, no, hundreds of coffins that floated silently in midair, identical to the one she had just emerged from. Each casket throbbed with a pale inner light, containing some unseen force barely restrained. The spectral illumination danced along the high stone columns that lined the hall like grave sentinels, their towering forms carved with strange, half-eroded symbols that twisted under her gaze.

Yue stood still for a moment, her breath catching. What is this place… a crypt? A tomb? Or something worse?

Before she could collect herself, a sharp voice snapped her attention back to the ground.

“Oh, you over there!” Grim shouted, his tone imperious as he jabbed a paw in her direction. “Hand over those clothes! Or else… I’ll roast you whole!”

His ears flared with electric blue fire, and he bared tiny fangs, attempting what might’ve been a threatening growl, if it weren’t for his puffed-up cheeks and small stature, which made him resemble more of a grumpy plush toy than a fearsome predator.

Yue blinked at him slowly, then quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. Her gaze drifted down his twitching tail and back up to his flickering ears. “Roasted by a talking… tanuki? Raccoon? That’s… new.”

Grim’s ears flared brighter in outrage, the flames crackling with indignation. “I’m not a raccoon!” he snapped, voice cracking slightly. His whiskers twitched in frustration as he stomped one paw on the stone floor with all the authority his tiny body could muster.

Still unimpressed, Yue exhaled softly through her nose, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. Without another word, she stepped around him as if he were nothing more than a pesky house spirit.

“Well then, Grim-sama,” she said, voice dry as desert air, “I’ll be on my way. I’m sure you can handle whatever existential fashion crisis you’re having on your own. Good luck with that.”

She hadn’t made it two steps when Grim let out a drawn-out, dramatic wail behind her.

“Oi! Don’t you dare walk away!”

In a flash, a burst of blue fire ignited behind him, erupting into a sudden wall of flame that seared through the air like a lightning strike. The heat slammed into her back, and Yue instinctively recoiled, raising her arm to shield her face. A sharp jolt of alarm flared in her chest as the intense heat licked at her skin. It was a wild, untamed magic, powerful and volatile.

Blue fire… not something to mess with. She could almost hear Shishō’s voice, calm and stern in her memory: "The hotter the flame, the more unstable the caster."

She took a careful step back, her pulse quickening. Of all the ways to die, getting barbecued by a talking raccoon wasn't exactly on my list…

"Getting literally roasted by a tanuki would be a little too original," she muttered under her breath, dryly.

“I said I’m not a tanuki!” Grim’s furious screech echoed off the vaulted walls, his ears blazing with renewed fury.

Yue didn’t bother replying.

Instead, she pivoted on her heel and dashed through the massive double doors, her braid trailing behind her like a ribbon of shadow. Her boots echoed across the polished stone as she sprinted into the sprawling, dim corridor beyond, eyes scanning the darkened halls, searching for any sign of an exit.

Panting softly, Yue leaned against one of the towering bookshelves, finally allowing herself a brief moment to catch her breath. Her heart still pounded, not just from the sprint but from the weight of everything crashing down at once.

Okay… what the hell is going on? she wondered, eyes scanning the surreal room. The floating books, the shimmering magical glow, the gothic architecture, it all felt like something out of a dream. Or a very elaborate nightmare.

This place is definitely not home.

Her gaze drifted to the long, flowing robe she hadn’t even realized she was wearing until Grim threw a fit about it. She tugged at the sleeve, frowning at its ornate embroidery and overly fancy fabric. It looked more ceremonial than practical, draping over her like it was meant for a stage performance or some royal summoning ritual. Whatever its purpose, it clearly wasn’t hers.

Do I ambush the furball? she mused, already running through a list of potential weak points. Maybe knock him out and tie him up with that weird bowtie? Not the best plan, but it was something. At this rate, improvisation was her only weapon.

Then Grim’s voice, nasally and smug, rang through the library.

“— Thought you could run away from my nose, you pathetic human?”

Yue spun around to find him skidding to a halt just a few feet away, his blue flame-ears flaring with triumph. He paused just as she stood frozen, staring at the endless rows of floating books like she'd stumbled into an arcane maze.

“Tough luck. Now gimme those clothes if you don’t wanna be roasted alive!” he barked, puffing up as if he was trying to look three times his actual size.

Yue blinked slowly, then looked down at the luxurious robe she wore, then back at Grim with a deadpan stare.
"You’ll drown in this robe. It's not even raccoon-sized."

Grim’s flames flickered violently as he shrieked, “I’m telling you, I’m not a raccoon! I don’t- fugyaaa!”

His sentence was cut short as a glittering, snake-like whip burst from the shadows and coiled tightly around his middle. Grim yelped, paws flailing as he was lifted off the floor. Yue instinctively dropped into a low stance, her body moving before her thoughts, hands ready to summon defensive magic, if she had any magic here.

Grim struggles against the string binding him. "WHAT IS THIS STRING?! GET ME OUT OF IT?!"

The whip sparkled like stardust, elegant yet dangerous.

A dramatic voice echoed through the grand chamber.
“It’s not a string. It’s the whip of love!”

Yue’s eyes snapped toward the direction of the voice. From between two towering bookshelves emerged a tall, peculiar figure clad in deep indigo and extravagant black, a cloak shaped like a crow’s wings fluttering dramatically behind him. A sleek, high-collared jacket hugged his frame, adorned with feathery layers and glinting ornaments. His mask, beaked like a raven’s, obscured much of his face, yet the confident gleam in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I finally found you,” the man said with theatrical flair, placing a gloved hand over his heart. “You must be this year’s new student, yes? Such recklessness! Wandering through the halls unsupervised, trespassing beyond the gate! And to make matters worse, allowing an untamed familiar to run loose? Tsk tsk. That’s against the rules!”

Yue’s expression remained unreadable, but inwardly, she was caught somewhere between suspicion, disbelief, and the growing urge to throw something at the next person who called her a student.

New student? Untamed familiar? Rules?

She didn’t know what kind of academy this was, but it was quickly climbing the list of weirdest things she’d ever been dragged into.

The stranger finally turned his gaze toward her, as if he hadn’t just declared the phrase “whip of love” in complete sincerity. Yue stood frozen for a beat, her mouth half-open, caught somewhere between confusion and caution. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this man had appeared without a single footstep, as if he'd just materialized out of thin air. Either she’d been too focused on Grim or this guy moved like a ghost.

She eyed the gleaming raven mask that obscured most of his face, its polished surface catching the faint magical glow that shimmered through the library. Though his expression was hidden behind the mask, she could feel his eyes studying her, sharp, calculating, theatrical.

“I told you,” the stranger repeated with an air of flamboyant disappointment, voice rising again as though performing for a stage. “It’s not a string. It’s the whip of love! Aah, but I digress. At last, I’ve found you!”

He pointed a gloved hand at her, gesturing with dramatic flair. “You are this year’s new student, are you not? Honestly, it’s not good,roaming around unsupervised, exiting the gate without permission! And this” he gave a flick of his wrist, tightening the glowing whip around Grim, who let out another distressed whine “an untamed familiar? A clear violation of school policy.”

“I told you! I’m not this guy’s familiar! Let me go~!” Grim flailed wildly, paws kicking at the air.

“Yes, yes, every rebellious familiar says that at first,” the man said with a sigh, not missing a beat. He wiggled his fingers in a silencing gesture, and the whip glowed brighter, muffling Grim’s complaints with a magical hum. “Let’s be quiet for a while, shall we?”

“Mmmgh! Mmgh mmgh!” Grim squirmed, the rest of his protests lost in the shimmer of the spell.

The man shook his head, placing a hand dramatically to his forehead like a long-suffering noble. “Really, it’s unheard of for a new student to open the entrance door by themselves. Do you have any idea how many wards are woven into that gate? It’s supposed to be sealed unless guided! How impatient must you be?” He gave a tired sigh, then extended his other hand toward her with an inviting flourish. “Come, come now. The opening ceremony has already begun. We must head to the Mirror Chamber at once.”

Yue didn’t move.

Her body was still tense, shoulders subtly angled, not quite hostile but far from relaxed. Every word this stranger spoke only deepened her unease. She hadn’t heard him approach. Not a whisper. Not even the faintest footstep on the polished floor. And now here he was, speaking like she was expected, like all of this was somehow normal.

Her eyes flicked from the glowing whip to the man's outstretched hand, then back to his masked face.

What kind of place is this? And what ceremony? Her gut told her to be cautious, yet she also knew she wouldn’t get any real answers just standing here.

“…New student?” Yue finally said, her voice low and skeptical.

Her gaze narrowed slightly as her thoughts raced. Is this some kind of mistake?

“…Door?” she echoed, frowning.

She opened her mouth to argue ‘He’s not my familiar’, she meant to say but the stranger was already turning away, sweeping his cloak behind him with theatrical grace as though he’d heard none of it.

The masked man tilted his head slightly, as though trying to gauge how much she truly remembered. His voice softened, taking on a more explanatory tone, though the flair in his movements never quite left.

“It’s the room where you first woke up,” he began, gesturing with one hand in a slow, deliberate arc. “The one lined with countless ornate doors, those weren’t coffins, but passageways. Every student enrolled at this institution arrives through one of them.”

Yue’s brows furrowed, her thoughts flashing back to that eerie chamber, the countless casket-like structures, and how the lid of hers had seemingly blown off in the chaos.

“So those weren’t coffins... they were doors,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone. “I think the flames blew the lid away.”

“Hmm... yes,” the man mused with a contemplative hum. “It would appear that, in the end, the root of the disturbance lies with this... familiar of yours.”

He gave Grim a pointed glance as the poor creature still dangled midair, limbs wiggling pathetically in the magical coil.

“If you brought him with you, then you must take responsibility for his behavior. A familiar that reckless, really.” He let out a theatrical sigh and shook his head, clearly enjoying the drama of the moment.

Before Yue could argue, he clapped his hands once, briskly. “Ah! But this isn’t the time for such a lengthy conversation. The opening ceremony is already underway. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss it entirely. Come, come, we’re going.”

But Yue didn’t move right away. She planted her feet firmly, gaze narrowing once more as she called out, “Wait, before that. Where even is this place? And who exactly are you?”

The man paused, head turning just slightly over his shoulder. For a second, there was an unsettling silence then he let out a small, amused laugh.

“Oh?” he said, voice lilting with mild surprise. “Are you still not fully awake? Hmm, perhaps your memory is a bit disordered due to the spatial transportation magic. It happens, it happens. Quite frequently, in fact.”

Yue’s fingers twitched at her sides, half-considering whether this was still part of some extended dream or an elaborate prank gone way too far.

The man turned around fully, bowing ever so slightly with a theatrical flourish of his cloak. “No need to worry. I shall explain everything in time, as we walk. I am kind, after all.”

Yue stared at him, expression unreadable. She didn’t like being herded around, especially not by someone who waltzed into a conversation mid-chaos and acted like they ran the place which, from the way he carried himself, maybe he did.

But... what choice did she have?

She glanced around at the endless bookshelves, the flickering candlelight, and the still-muffled Grim wriggling in the whip’s hold. This place was far from home. If she wanted answers, if she wanted any sort of control, she’d need to play along. At least for now.

With a sigh, Yue stepped forward to follow, her eyes never leaving the masked figure’s back. Whether this was a dream or some bizarre alternate world, she’d have to navigate it carefully.

She had no other real choice.

As Yue trailed behind the theatrical stranger, she found herself back in the familiar yet disorienting courtyard, its tall spires and looming arches the same ones she had raced through just moments ago while being chased by Grim. The surroundings were no less strange than before, but with the adrenaline starting to wear off, her thoughts were sharpening. She kept her steps light and her eyes wary, letting the stranger lead but making sure to keep a mental note of every twist and turn. This might be a dream, or some warped illusion, but panicking wouldn’t help her now. She needed answers and more importantly, she needed control.

The man cleared his throat with exaggerated flair, as if ready to begin a monologue.

“Ahem. Welcome to Night Raven College, and I’m Dire Crowley” he announced, spreading his arms wide. “This is Twisted Wonderland’s most prestigious magical academy, a place where only the finest, most promising young magicians are gathered to hone their craft.”

Yue blinked. Magicians? Her brow furrowed slightly. That wasn’t the word she expected. Not witches, wizards, sorcerers, or anything you'd hear in her place that she knows of. Magician. It sounded so… stagey. Like something from a circus, not a mystical institution. Still, the term hung in the air with the weight of official designation.

“Ma... magician?” she echoed softly, unsure whether she was questioning him or herself.

The man, who now formally introduced himself as Dire Crowley, took no notice of her stunned expression. “I am the headmaster of this fine institution, acting under the authority of the Headmaster,” he continued, puffing out his chest with obvious pride. “And yes, before you ask, I am quite qualified for the role.”

Yue narrowed her eyes slightly. His confidence seemed unshakable, borderline delusional. But more than that, she didn’t like how easily he glossed over the very real strangeness of her sudden arrival. She also isn’t trusting his full words either.

“The only individuals who can attend this academy,” Crowley went on, “are those with exceptional magical aptitude, chosen by none other than the Mirror of Darkness itself. This mirror recognizes talent and summons students from across different lands. Naturally, they are brought here through a special ‘door.’”

Yue’s mind flickered with fragments of memory. That room is full of ominous doors. The sound of crackling fire. The dizzying sense of falling. And before that...

Yue’s mind flickered with fragments of memory. That room filled with countless mirrors. The sound of crackling fire. The dizzying sense of falling. And before that... “I think... I did go through a mirror,” she muttered quietly, more to herself. “And... I think there was a voice calling out to me,” she added, frowning as if trying to recall what happened before she woke up in a coffin.

“Ah, splendid!” Crowley chimed, clearly pleased by her realization. “That would be our specially designated Mirror Gate. It appears only for the chosen students, serving as a sacred passage that links their world to ours. From ancient times, it has been accepted through conventional wisdom that such distinguished events, like the arrival of a new student, must follow a proper ritual.”

Yue paused at that, skepticism plain in her tone. “You say ‘conventional wisdom,’ but... whose convention are we even talking about here?”

Crowley merely chuckled in a way that suggested he had no intention of explaining further. “Ah, details, details,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You’ll come to understand everything in time.”

Grim, still ensnared in the magical whip, let out a series of muffled growls and kicks. “Mggghーー! Mmgghーー!!”

“Now, now,” Crowley sighed dramatically, “no need to make a fuss.”

Yue looked from Grim to Crowley, then back at the path ahead. Her gut twisted with unease, but there was no immediate threat, at least, not one she could fight with fists or fire. She’d play along. For now. She needed more information, and the opening ceremony seemed like the next step to getting it.

Crowley turned, his voice carrying cheerfully through the open-air halls. “Come, come, we’re going to the opening ceremony now.”

With a weary sigh, Yue followed the Headmaster.

Every instinct screamed at her to tread carefully, this place was strange, the man stranger, and everything felt like walking through the pages of someone else’s story. But for now, she had no other path forward. Better to follow, to observe, to listen. If this was a dream, she’d wake eventually. If not... she’d find her footing soon enough.

The Mirror Chamber loomed with a quiet, mystical gravity that made Yue’s skin prickle. The architecture was unlike anything she’d seen before circular, grand, and almost cathedral-like in design, yet it radiated an eerie, arcane chill. Silvery-blue flames floated in sconces along the walls, their ghostly light casting long shadows over the polished stone floor. At the very center stood a massive, dark-framed mirror taller than any person in the room. Its surface shimmered like liquid glass, depthless and dark, as if it stared back.

Robe-clad figures, students, she presumed, lined the edges of the chamber in silent anticipation. Most kept their hoods up, their faces obscured, but a few curious glances were cast toward the newcomers being ushered in. Yue lingered behind the headmaster, careful to keep her expression neutral as she studied her surroundings.

Her attention snapped to a sudden shift in the atmosphere. One of the robed figures broke away from the group with determined steps, making a straight path toward what seemed to be a newly assigned housemate. There was an air of inevitability in the way they moved like the decision had already been made by fate itself.

Then, a sharp voice cut through the quiet murmur of the room.

A young boy, shorter than most around him, stood confidently despite his stature. He had a youthful, fair complexion and auburn hair that curled around his face with an almost deliberate elegance. Two distinct strands curved forward to form a heart shape at the top of his head, giving him an oddly charming, if slightly whimsical, appearance. His bluish-gray eyes scanned the room with a sharp, calculating edge before he placed both hands on his hips and declared in a stern tone, “We’re done with orientation and dorm assignments, right?”

He barely waited for a response before launching into his declaration. “All right, new students let me be clear. At Heartslabyul, I am the law. Break the rules, and it’s off with your head!”

A hush fell over the chamber. Several students flinched. Some exchanged skeptical looks, others looked like they wanted to argue, but no one dared to speak. The boy’s presence, though small in stature, held the kind of ironclad confidence that brooked no challenge.

Before the tension could settle, another voice chimed in from across the room a lazy, amused, and unmistakably commanding in its own way.

“Yawn~ Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever,” drawled a tall young man with tan skin and an athletic build. His dark brown hair flowed past his shoulders, wild and untamed except for the braided sections on either side of his face, bound with yellow ties. His emerald eyes gleamed under long bangs, and a thin scar sliced across his left brow to his cheek, giving him a roguish edge. But what truly marked him were the lion-like features, furry ears twitching atop his head, and a long, sleek tail swaying behind him.

He stretched casually, then turned toward the crowd with a dismissive wave. “I’m heading back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw, follow me.”

A fair-skinned boy stepped forward from the gathered crowd, his presence calm and refined amid the lingering tension in the chamber. He appeared to be of average height, but carried himself with a quiet grace that made him seem taller than he was. His short, wavy hair, an elegant shade of cool light-gray parted neatly on the right and curled upward at the ends, giving him a slightly windswept look. One long strand framed the left side of his face, drawing the eye naturally to the small beauty mark just above the corner of his lip.

His eyes, a shade darker than his hair, held a soft yet shrewd glint, as though he were quietly assessing everything and everyone around him. Perched on his nose were rectangular, half-rim glasses with a sleek gray frame that added to his intellectual appearance. There was an effortless polish to the way he presented himself poised, pleasant, and undeniably observant.

With a modest but warm smile, he addressed the newcomers, his tone courteous and composed. “New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. I am honored to have this opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling and enriching experience during your time on campus.”

“Hey, has anyone seen where the headmaster went?” a tall, striking young man asked, his voice laced with confusion as his lilac eyes scanned the Mirror Chamber. He stood out even among the crowd of uniquely dressed students, his elegant appearance drawing attention without effort. His shoulder-length, light-blonde hair shimmered with a subtle gradient that faded into soft lavender at the tips, matching his ethereal gaze. His hair was styled with care, long, parted bangs framing his face, and two delicate braids falling from either side, meeting at the back of his head where they were secured with a golden barrette. The accessory gleamed under the chamber’s dim light, shaped like a heart pierced by a sword both regal and romantic in design.

He turned slightly as if expecting an answer, his expression growing more puzzled by the moment. “He vanished halfway through the ceremony…”

A dry voice crackled to life from one of the enchanted tablets floating nearby, cutting through the uncertain murmurs. “Some headmaster he is,” it quipped, the tone flat and unimpressed.

The other students began to whisper or chuckle softly until a small voice chimed in, light and cheerful in contrast. “Maybe he had a tummyache?” said a boy noticeably shorter than most. His skin was a warm, deep tone, and his wide garnet-red eyes sparkled with sincerity. Despite his small stature, he carried a bright and open energy. His choppy white hair barely brushed his forehead, and short brows arched slightly with curiosity. Wrapped around his head was a turban-like headband that matched his ornate outfit, the cloth tied into an oversized bow that sat neatly on the right side of his head.

The room fell into a hush again, save for a few muffled giggles, though no one could say for sure if it was amusement or nervousness. The headmaster's sudden disappearance was strange, even for a place like this.

A sudden, thunderous bang echoed through the Mirror Chamber as the grand doors flew open with dramatic force. Gasps and startled flinches rippled through the gathered students as Headmaster Crowley burst into the room, arms flung wide like an actor making his grand entrance on stage. His voice rang with theatrical indignation, “I most certainly did not!”

Apparently, he had heard the boy's innocent comment about a tummy ache from all the way outside, or perhaps he had just impeccable timing.

Yue blinked, startled by the abruptness of the scene, unconsciously stepping back slightly as the headmaster swept inside. His dark cloak billowed behind him as though he had rehearsed the moment, and Yue, who had been quietly tailing him like a wary shadow felt dozens of curious eyes shift toward her.

She felt the weight of their stares settle over her like a second cloak. They scanned her from head to toe, searching for some explanation: Who was this newbie who had arrived so late? Why was she with the Headmaster? Her fingers twitched at her side, the urge to fidget present but she steeled herself. No use panicking. Panic leads to mistakes.

Observe, gather information, and breathe.

She lifted her chin just slightly, gaze forward, ignoring them all. If there was one thing she'd learned from experience, it was that letting others see your discomfort only gave them leverage.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” the red-haired boy muttered, clearly unimpressed, one hand on his hip as his sharp eyes rolled toward the ceiling. His tone dripped with exasperation, as if this were merely the latest in a long line of Headmaster antics.

Crowley, still perfectly composed despite his over-the-top entrance, stepped aside with a theatrical flourish. “If you must know,” he said, tone lofty, “I was searching for the new students who failed to appear for orientation.” With that, he gestured grandly toward Yue and another figure draped in robes.

“You,” he said, voice taking on a more clipped edge of authority, “are the only ones yet to be assigned a dorm. Step forward to the Dark Mirror quickly, now. Time waits for no mage. I’ll keep my eye on your weasel.”

A furious, indignant growl erupted from the ground near him.

“Grrrrrr!!” Grim thrashed in defiance, still hopelessly entangled in the enchanted whip’s grasp, his sharp eyes blazing with frustration. The tiny creature continued to wriggle and growl like a wild animal caught in a trap, his pride clearly more wounded than his limbs.

Yue cast him a glance, one brow slightly raised. A weasel? Grim definitely wouldn't like that. And as chaotic as he was, part of her felt a bit bad for the little guy.

Still, her attention shifted quickly to the looming, ornate mirror at the center of the chamber. So this was the Dark Mirror headmaster who had spoken of the one that decided fates and assigned dorms. She tightened her fist. Whatever came next, she'd face it head-on.

Crowley, ever dramatic, swept around to face Yue, his cape flaring behind him like the wings of a theater curtain at its final act. A self-satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he spoke with grandiosity, “One of the new students wandered off, so naturally, I took it upon myself to retrieve them! Young people these days, so quick to panic, so eager to get lost.”

With the flair of someone who believed he was saving the day, he plucked Grim from Yue’s arms with a casual flick of his wrist, holding the squirming creature up like a misbehaving kitten. “Now, now. You are the last unassigned student, dear child. Step up to the Mirror of Darkness, if you would. I’ll keep an eye on this little tanuki-kun for you.”

Grim yowled in offense, his fur bristling. “I’m not a tanuki!!” he hissed, flailing in Crowley’s grasp. Yue raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to smirk. She hadn't even called him that this time.

From the crowd, the sharp-eyed red-haired student muttered, “A student… missing?” His voice was low, but Yue caught the steel in it, measured, and assessed. She could feel his gaze settling on her like a weight, even without looking directly at him. Something in his tone told her he wasn’t one to let things slide unnoticed.

Before Yue could respond, Crowley was already ushering her forward, guiding her through the sea of students with a gloved hand lightly on her back. She followed, not because she wanted to be herded like a lost sheep, but because resisting the headmaster now would only draw more attention and she’d had enough eyes on her for one day.

The Mirror of Darkness loomed ahead tall, silent, and impossibly still. It radiated a cool pressure that wasn’t quite wind and wasn’t quite magic, but something in between. The students parted as she passed, forming a loose ring around the chamber’s centerpiece, their murmurs quieting into expectant silence.

Yue took her place before it, spine straight and chin lifted. She kept her breathing steady, ignoring the dozens of curious eyes boring into her back. She didn’t care what they thought. Their opinions wouldn’t change whatever this mirror had to say.

Still, her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

The glass rippled like the surface of a deep pond, and from the swirling mist within, a pale ivory mask emerged. Its face was long and expressionless, the mouth tugged into a severe frown, and its hollow eyes seemed to look through her rather than at her.

She stared back, unmoved.

Huh, she thought, a flicker of dry amusement surfacing in her mind, looks like one of Shisho’s old mask relics. The creepy one she said was cursed, but mostly just collected dust in the storeroom.

Suddenly, the mask's rigid lips creaked open, revealing a deep, resonant voice that filled the chamber with eerie weight. Each syllable rolled out like a sacred rite, heavy with ancient intent.
“State your name.”

Yue blinked slowly. So much for subtlety, she mused, the corners of her mouth twitching with dry amusement. This mirror was as dramatic as the Headmaster himself.

Straightening her posture, she responded evenly, “My name is Yue.” Her tone was calm, measured—neither hesitant nor defiant. She deliberately withheld her surname. There was no need to offer more than what was asked.

"If you give someone your name, they can take your soul. If you give them your birthday, they can control your life." She remembered what her shisho said.

To her, names were powerful, more than mere identifiers. They held weight, meaning, magic. A name could bind or bless, befriend or betray. That was why she never minded when people heard it as “Yuu” instead. She wouldn’t correct them unless it became necessary. Better to let the details blur. In a world like this, you never knew who might be listening or why.

The mask echoed her name, the voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Yue…” It lingered there, as if tasting it on spectral lips, before continuing,
“The shape of your soul is…”

That caught her attention.

Yue’s brows rose slightly, curiosity sparking behind her cool gaze. The shape of the soul? What a strange, poetic method to assign dormitories.

Now that’s interesting, she thought, amusement curling at the edges of her lips. Let’s see how this enchanted mask reads me.

For the first time since stepping foot in the room, Yue leaned in, not physically, but mentally, her sharp mind turning over the possibilities. So the mirror doesn’t just sort by aptitude or magic affinity… but by something deeper? How quaint.

She crossed her arms lightly, letting the tension in her shoulders fade. This place might be full of surprises after all.

“……….”

The mirror remained silent, the ivory mask locked in a long, unreadable stare. Its hollow eyes bore into Yue, as if searching the depths of her being and finding only fog.

She didn’t flinch beneath its scrutiny. If anything, she expected the delay. She wasn’t exactly from around here, and she doubted this realm or whatever magic this mirror used had protocols for someone like her.

Whispers rippled through the hall like wind brushing tall grass, but Yue stood still and calm, hands clasped behind her back.

“……………”

Still, the mirror said nothing.

Yue raised an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly in dry amusement. Is this thing buffering? She resisted the urge to sigh and considered offering a helpful nudge. Did it need a fun fact about her? A resume?

Just as she parted her lips to speak, the mask finally stirred. Its voice echoed across the room, cold and impassive:
“…I cannot see it.”

There it is, she thought, only to pause mid-smirk. Wait, what?

Her expression faltered as confusion flickered across her face. You can’t see it? What does that even mean? I’m not invisible, and I’m certainly not a puppet.

The room, once filled with murmuring voices, dropped into stunned silence. For a breathless moment, not even the sound of shifting fabric or rustling capes dared to rise. Then, like water breaking through a dam, the whispers surged back, more urgent, more anxious.

Gasps. Speculation. Panic.

Crowley surged forward in a blur of dramatic fabric, his eyes wide with shock and fascination. “What?!” he exclaimed, as if the mirror had personally insulted him.

But the mask remained unmoved, its tone unchanged, its words deliberate and still devoid of emotion. "I cannot determine the nature of this one’s soul. This child possesses the strictness of Heartslabyul, persistence of Savanaclaw, benevolence of Octavinelle, mindfulness of Scarabia, tenacity of Pomefiore, diligence of Ignihyde, and nobility of Diasomnia. She aligns with the qualities of all dorms. Thus, both the color and shape of her soul are… everything yet non-existent."

Ahh, Yue mused, so that’s why it took so long… I resonate with all of them. Technically, I could belong anywhere. A rare flicker of pride warmed her chest but before she could explore that thought further, Crowley’s voice cut through.

“What?!” the Headmaster gasped, his eyes bulging with disbelief. “No magical power at all?! But that’s… impossible!”

Yue blinked, brows lifting ever so slightly. Wait, what? Her confusion was plain. That wasn’t what the mirror said, at least, not in the way Crowley interpreted it.

She opened her mouth to clarify, only to hesitate. Then, almost lazily, she let it close again. Why bother? If the man wanted to leap to conclusions, let him. There was something quite convenient about being perceived as powerless. The mirror hadn’t denied her magic; it had simply refused to categorize her. That subtle distinction could become a shield, a hidden advantage.

The mask spoke once more, voice echoing like an ancient decree:
“Therefore, this one is not suited to any dormitory.”

A collective gasp rippled through the hall, followed by another round of stunned silence. The idea that someone didn’t belong to any dormitory seemed to shake the very foundation of this world’s order.

Yue, for her part, didn’t flinch. She merely quirked a brow, the corners of her mouth tugging upward in faint amusement. Her silvery moon eyes glittered with curiosity, as though she had just uncovered an unexpected mystery hidden in plain sight.

Interesting, she thought, gaze flicking back to the mask. So this mirror doesn’t know what to make of me either. Even better.

A faint warmth began to bloom along Yue’s wrists, like a pulse beneath the skin. She lowered her gaze, only to find fine, shimmering patterns slowly etching themselves into her flesh delicate, intricate designs wrapping around each wrist like phantom ink. They glowed faintly before settling into a quiet, silvery mark that seemed to hum with hidden meaning.

So that’s new, she thought, arching an eyebrow. Her expression didn’t shift much, but her mind was already whirring. Could these markings have interfered with the mirror’s assessment? Or perhaps they were a consequence of the mirror’s attempt to read her? Either way, it only confirmed her suspicions of this world operated on a different kind of logic, and she was slowly beginning to understand the threads weaving it all together. She would study them later, away from the prying eyes and speculation, where she could inspect every curve and rune without interruption.

The strange turn of events, while jarring to everyone else, was falling into place for her like the pieces of an elaborate puzzle. Everything, the delay, the mirror’s indecision, even Crowley’s panicked misinterpretation was feeding her growing theory about how this place functioned. Her lips curled ever so slightly into a smirk, subtle and self-contained.

Looks like things are about to get interesting, she mused, mischief twinkling behind her calm, lavender eyes. Her stance remained poised and indifferent, but a glimmer of thrill stirred in her chest. She wasn’t just adjusting to this strange new world she was starting to enjoy it.

The chamber, however, had descended into chaos. Whispers surged into full-blown chatter, voices overlapping in a frenzy of curiosity and confusion. Yue stood at the center of it all like the eye of a storm, serenely detached as students craned their necks, pointed, and speculated with barely veiled excitement.

So this is what it feels like to be the oddity in a room full of magicians, she thought dryly. She’d seen this kind of attention before when her seniors were singled out by her shishō during difficult training sessions, surrounded by those eager to witness either brilliance or failure. It was the same weight of expectation and judgment, just with different faces.

Still, it didn’t faze her. Yue had grown used to being watched, prodded at from a distance by those who didn’t quite understand her. Rumors were inevitable, and in this place? Inevitable would come swiftly. She cast one final look toward the mirror, cool, unreadable, almost challenging, as if daring it to try again. But she already knew it wouldn’t.

"Are you suggesting that the black carriage retrieved someone who cannot even wield magic? That's preposterous!" Crowley exclaimed, his voice bordering on scandalized outrage. "The student selection process has remained flawless for over a century! Never once has it faltered! How could such a thing have occurred?"

Across the room, the boy with earrings leaned back casually, hands tucked into his pockets, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Aw, don’t sweat it, Headmaster!” he called out with infuriating cheer. “Everyone makes mistakes now and then.”

“That’s not the point!” Crowley snapped, irritation bubbling to the surface as his brow twitched in frustration. “This is a systemic anomaly!”

Meanwhile, Yue remained silent amidst the chaos, her expression placid, lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. She looked utterly unbothered, as though she were a mere spectator in a theater, watching a comedy unfold rather than standing in the very eye of the storm. The more Crowley paced and fretted, the more she looked entertained, arms folded loosely as if this whole ordeal was a minor amusement rather than a turning point in her fate.

So dramatic, she mused inwardly. And to think, I’m the so-called anomaly?

Crowley paused, hand to his chin, eyes narrowing as he began to mutter to himself. “No magic, and yet summoned... Could the mirror have malfunctioned? Or perhaps… no, no, that’s absurd…”

Before he could spiral further, a sudden noise erupted behind him.

"Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... GASP! ME! Let ME have this student's seat!" a familiar raspy voice cried out.

Grim had finally wriggled free from the whip’s restraint, his blue flames sparking as he dramatically flailed toward the spotlight. The moment Crowley turned, glaring at the furball with a mix of irritation and disbelief, the small creature puffed up like a storm cloud.

“Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!” Crowley barked, stepping forward in exasperation.

Grim wasn’t fazed. “Unlike that human, I can use magic!” he declared, puffing out his chest. “So let me be a student here! Watch! I’ll prove it! My spells are the cat’s meow!”

With that, he flung his arms wide, unleashing a flurry of brilliant blue flames into the air, eyes squeezed shut in dramatic flair.

The crowd gasped and stumbled back as the sudden burst of heat licked the air, flaring dangerously close to singeing nearby robes. Students cried out in surprise, scattering like startled birds.

Yue didn’t flinch. Her eyes simply tracked the flickering flames as if watching a street magician’s flashy stunt. She tilted her head thoughtfully, one brow rising.

Bold. Reckless. Loud, she mused, amused. But certainly not boring.

"Everyone, get down!" the red-haired boy shouted, his commanding voice cutting through the rising panic like a whip.

“MYAAAHHH!!” Grim wailed, his mouth spewing another uncontrollable torrent of blue flames. The Mirror Chamber, once grand and serene, was quickly descending into chaos, smoke coiling toward the vaulted ceiling, the once-pristine marble floor now scorched with flickers of azure fire that refused to die out.

Yue stood before the Mirror of Darkness, her eyes calmly sweeping over the pandemonium. The self-proclaimed Great Magician Grim continued his fiery outburst, sending students scrambling in panic as the heat rippled through the air. She quietly observed their reactions, the wide-eyed freshmen flailing to extinguish their robes, their panic echoing off the chamber walls.

Her gaze shifted to the upperclassmen, particularly those who carried an air of command, the dorm leaders, she presumed. Unlike the others, they remained composed, merely watching as though such disasters were a daily occurrence.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Yue caught a flash of movement, a boy with striking red eyes yelping as a burst of flame struck him squarely on the rear.

"AHHHH! HELP! I'M ON FIRE OVER HERE!" he cried, running in frantic circles, fanning his backside with a notebook.

"Someone catch that blasted animal before it burns the entire school to the ground!" Crowley barked, his voice rising over the panic but his command was lost in the chaos. No one moved. The students were too stunned, too busy ducking or gawking to react.

Except Yue.

Her sharp eyes swept the room, searching. No one's going to step up? she thought with quiet disbelief. Her gaze fell back to the red-eyed boy, who was still flailing dramatically.

She stepped closer, her voice low and calm. “You can use water magic, right?”

He blinked, startled by the question and her sudden presence, then nodded quickly. Drawing a pen-like object, a sleek black staff tipped with a shimmering gem, he raised it with a practiced motion and twirled it with a flick of his wrist. Water burst forth in a spiral from its tip, dousing the fire in one swift, well-aimed move.

“Thanks!” he said with a breathless grin, clearly relieved.

Yue merely nodded, her expression unreadable. Her focus had already shifted back to the flames and the rampaging furball. Her posture was still, centered, a quiet calm in the eye of the storm.

If this is the kind of chaos this place breeds on day one… her lips curled ever so slightly, then it’s going to be an interesting year.

“Ugh. Can I go now, or...?” The boy with lion-like ears stood off to the side, arms crossed and expression heavy with irritation. His tail flicked once in annoyance as he surveyed the rising chaos in the Mirror Chamber with an unimpressed scowl.

Across the room, the silver-haired boy who had previously laughed at Crowley’s expense turned to him with a smirk. “Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Why not help yourself to that plump little morsel?”

The lion therianthrope rolled his eyes, the green in them glinting with disinterest. “Too much effort. Do it yourself,” he muttered, voice dripping with disdain.

Before Crowley could scold them both for their apathy, a composed voice broke through the bickering.

“Allow me to handle this, Headmaster Crowley,” said the bespectacled boy, stepping forward with a polite smile and impeccable posture. “If no one else is willing to catch a small animal, I will accept the responsibility.”

From above, a floating tablet chimed in, a teasing voice echoing from its speakers. “Way to go, Azul. Racking up those participation credits.”

Yue’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the levitating device. She blinked, her sharp gaze locking onto it in fascination. What is that...? A sentient construct? Or a communication talisman? No, more like an enchanted familiar embedded with advanced magical circuitry... Her thoughts spun quickly, piecing together possibilities. 

She let out a soft gasp before catching herself. While the creature setting the room on fire was still a concern, the sight of the tablet had momentarily stolen her attention.

So... their magical engineering is more advanced than my world’s, she mused, both impressed and quietly delighted. Now this is intriguing.

A slight smile tugged at her lips, a spark of excitement flickering in her eyes. The chaos was still ongoing, but Yue was no longer just observing for survival, she was studying. Adapting. The unfamiliar was quickly becoming an opportunity.

"I'm sorry, were my instructions unclear?!" Crowley cried out, exasperation ringing through the chamber as his patience visibly wore thin.

The lion-eared student let out a tired sigh and crossed his arms. "Pretty sure you can handle catching one mangy tanuki all on your own, Headmaster," he retorted lazily, casting an unimpressed glance in Crowley’s direction.

“I’ve told you already!” Grim snapped, halting his rampage of blue fire to scowl at the lion boy. “I’m Grim, the spellcaster extraordinaire! I’m not a tanuki!”

Azul chuckled smoothly at Grim’s indignation, adjusting his glasses as he turned to the red-haired student beside him. “Aren’t you a spunky little fellow? Riddle, would you be so kind…?”

The boy called Riddle gave a curt nod, stepping forward with purpose. “Rule-breaking will not be tolerated,” he declared coldly, glaring down at Grim with piercing crimson eyes. “Furry miscreant. You will be judged by my hand.”

Grim, sensing the very real danger closing in, froze for half a heartbeat before yelping, “W-Wait a second-!” and bolting across the chamber as the two boys gave chase, wands, no, pens at the ready. They cast their magic with frightening precision, elegant strokes of their jeweled fountain pens conjuring spells that burst into the air with vibrant light.

Yue blinked at the sight of them in action, taking in every motion, every detail. So even their casting focuses are stylized into writing instruments… Curious. They channel spellwork through such personalized tools? How… expressive.

Her hand instinctively hovered near her left ear, caressing the earring, her instincts urging caution, but something deeper told her to wait. So she did. She observed.

The monster-cat was eventually cornered, puffed up and panting as he stood in the far corner of the chamber, eyes darting for escape.
“Couldn’t you tell we were giving you a bit of freedom?” the bespectacled student said smoothly, his glowing pen held with poised elegance. His voice was casual, almost disinterested, but his gaze was sharp beneath the glint of his lenses. “What a pitiful creature,” he added with a faint, amused smirk.

“F-Funaahh-!!” Grim bristled, his fur puffing up like a furious puffball. “You want me to set you on fire next?!”

Before Azul could reply, the red-haired student stepped forward with a cold glare. His hood slipped back, revealing sharp slate-gray eyes now narrowed in irritation. A tense silence followed the quiet growl under his breath, as if the air itself were waiting.

“I’m warning you,” he said evenly, voice edged with dangerous calm. “Give it up while you still have the chance.”

“No way!” Grim snapped, chest puffed out with defiance. “I’m going to enroll in this school, even if it kills me!”

Yue tilted her head ever so slightly, watching the tension crackle between them like flint striking steel. Her eyes flitted to the redhead, who was clearly seconds from snapping, vein throbbing at his temple, fists clenched tight around his ornate pen. She didn’t know him, but she could recognize that kind of pressure: the weight of expectation and a short fuse honed by rules.

“Azul, stand back,” the redhead snapped.

Azul, unruffled as ever, gave a subtle nod and stepped aside, as if he’d been expecting the command all along. There was a grace to the way he moved, controlled, confident, practiced.

Then the redhead raised his pen high, the jewel at its tip pulsing with contained power. “Order and silence!” he commanded.

A brilliant glow surged from the pen, casting long shadows across the chamber. The magic in his voice, sharp, commanding, absolute, sent an unspoken shiver down the room. Instinctively, the other students hushed, their murmurs silenced in an instant.

Yue, standing at the edge of the chaos, observed it all with calm detachment. Her fingers twitched once inside the robe, but she didn’t move. Her mind, however, was anything but still.

Interesting... Their magic is closely tied to hierarchy and presence. Not just power, but command. Fascinating.  Or is just that person name Riddle.

She allowed a faint smirk to tug at the corner of her lips, her expression unreadable.

Heh. Still glad I don’t need to get involved.

With a voice laced in iron authority, the red-haired student declared, “The sentence comes first, the verdict afterwards. You were given a fair warning. Now, face the consequences.”

Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly, the intensity of his words pulling her full attention. She could feel the magic coiling around him like a storm waiting to break.

Then it happened, his pen ignited with a brilliant red light, pulsing in tandem with his words as he raised it high.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

"MYAAH?!" Grim yelped in stunned disbelief just as a glowing, heart-shaped collar shimmered into existence, then snapped around his neck with a harsh, echoing clink.

“What are you doing?!” the creature howled, squirming as the magical collar yanked him upright with alarming strength.

Yue blinked once, her brow twitching at the sheer theatrical absurdity unfolding in front of her. A heart-shaped restraint? Really?

And then click. In a blur, two halves of the enchanted collar locked into place with a decisive metallic snap. Grim’s protests were silenced mid-screech as the enchanted collar briefly lifted him off the ground, leaving him flailing in midair like an angry balloon.

“F-Fugya! What is this thing!?” Grim wheezed, tugging at the enchanted metal now firmly fastened around his neck.

The red-haired student loomed above him, pen still aglow as he spoke with unflinching conviction. “The Queen of Hearts’ twenty-third law states: ‘No cats shall be brought into a place of ceremony.’ Your very presence here is a violation of that law. I will have you removed immediately.”

Yue exhaled through her nose, folding her arms with a quiet, amused breath. Her expression was unreadable, save for the faintest flicker of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. A little dramatic for a school rule, don’t you think? she mused silently. But hey, at least she didn’t have to lift a finger.

“I’m not a cat, either!” Grim rasped indignantly, his little limbs flailing as he struggled against the glowing collar. “I’ll burn this stupid thing to ash in no— Guh! Wh-what’s going on?! Why isn’t my fire working?!”

The redhead, Riddle, as Yue had now filed away in her mental notes, smirked with unmistakable satisfaction. “Hmph. Until I choose to remove that collar, your magic is completely sealed. Just like a house cat kept on a leash.”

“I’m not some house pet!” Grim snarled, squirming wildly like a fish caught in a net.

Riddle scoffed, gaze sweeping over the struggling creature with barely veiled disgust. “Trust me, no sane person would want a pet like you. Consider this a mercy. Once you’re off the school grounds, I’ll be generous enough to release you.”

Azul, ever the composed observer, gave a polite clap, his eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and something less innocent. “Riddle-san’s Unique Magic never fails to impress. Such efficiency, one phrase, and snap, all magic is gone. Remarkable. Sealing someone’s power so neatly… Ah, if only I could-” He paused, catching himself with a dainty smile. “-Well, I’d certainly prefer never to be on the receiving end, of course.”

Yue cast him a sideways glance, her gaze sharpening slightly. Yeah, no. You weren’t even trying to hide that greedy gleam. Noted.

She shifted her weight onto one leg, watching the chaos settle like dust after a storm. So the redhead’s name was Riddle. A sharp, pointed name, fitting for someone whose temper could probably ignite oil.

Before she could reflect further, Crowley suddenly swooped in from the side like a magician making a poor reappearance act. He clamped both hands down on her shoulders with theatrical urgency. “Please, you must take responsibility for that creature!” he cried, clearly referring to the still-squirming Grim. “A familiar should be properly trained, you know! Disciplined! Housebroken!”

Yue’s patience thinned like thread on the verge of snapping. She took in a long breath through her nose and turned her head, deadpan. “Headmaster, as I already said, he’s not mine.”

Crowley blinked. “...Come again?”

Her stare didn’t waver. “We met an hour ago. Just like I met you an hour ago.”

He froze mid-huff, visibly confused. “Wait, what? But—”

She lifted an eyebrow, voice dry. “I tried to correct you. You were too busy… narrating your own story.”

“Ahem!” Crowley cleared his throat a little too loudly, his posture stiff as his cheeks flushed pink beneath the ornate mask. Yet, even while flustered, he clung to his theatrical dignity like a lifeline. “Very well, let us simply proceed as if I had not been thoroughly and catastrophically mistaken.”

Yue said nothing. Her attention drifted to the doors that had only moments ago swung shut behind Grim’s dramatic departure. His voice, shrill, indignant, and muffled by distance, had faded, leaving behind a faint echo and the lingering image of that odd little creature.

A reluctant puffball, backed into a corner and scrapping to be taken seriously.

She released a soft sigh, arms folded as her gaze dipped momentarily to the floor. He looked like a deflated cat, she thought. The same way some of the strays she used to care for would curl up on her doorstep, trying to appear fierce when they were really just cold, hungry, and alone. Grim was... annoying, sure. But something about his tenacity tugged at her sense of familiarity. And maybe, just maybe, a touch of reluctant sympathy.

Crowley clapped his hands again, snapping the students to attention. “Despite a few unexpected hiccups,” he declared, “this brings the opening ceremony to a close! Housewarden, please escort your new students to their respective dorms.”

He scanned the gathered crowd with a frown that deepened by the second. “Hmm? But wait… I don’t see hide nor hair of Diasomnia’s young master. Where is Mister Draconia?”

From somewhere off to the side, a clawed student rolled his eyes and scoffed. “That guy’s always missing,” he muttered, arms crossed with a look of pure annoyance.

“Huh?” Yue’s gaze flicked toward the speaker,  the same boy who had earlier gotten scorched during Grim’s chaotic arrival. His snowy-white hair still looked a bit singed at the ends, though his bright crimson eyes were as wide and guileless as before. “Did no one tell him it was today?”

There was a beat of silence. Then, with all the venom of someone used to babysitting fools, another student snapped, “Then why didn’t you tell him?”

The white-haired boy blinked slowly, completely unfazed by the question. “Well… I could’ve,” he admitted, crossing his arms in genuine thought. “But I don’t really know the guy…”

Yue stared at him, deadpan.

Great. Not only am I stuck in a magical world, but it's apparently run by dramatics, pyromaniacs, and people who think communication is optional.

“That Malleus Draconia…!” someone blurted out with a mix of awe and dread.

Almost immediately, anxious murmurs followed like a spreading ripple:
“Should I just quit and go home…?”
“So it’s true? He actually goes to school here?”
“I thought that was just a rumor…”

The shift in the room’s energy was palpable. Students who had been confident just moments ago were suddenly stiff-backed or shrinking into their cloaks. Even some of the more aloof ones cast wary glances at the mention of that name, as though invoking it might summon thunderclouds and misfortune.

Yue blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity.

That reaction was… something else.

She had caused a stir too, she remembered. Her sudden arrival, the lack of magic, and the headmaster’s dramatic assumptions had all sparked their fair share of whispering. But this wasn’t idle curiosity or gossip. This was reverence tangled with fear. A name that seemed to carry weight heavier than any spellbook or rule in this strange academy.

Who exactly is this Malleus Draconia? she wondered, filing the name away for another time to look into. Currently, she will focus on the current predicament.

Before she could linger on the thought, a low voice, calm and resonant, spoke right beside her.

“Oh… I see. So he really did skip the ceremony.”

Yue flinched slightly. She hadn’t noticed anyone standing there before.

Her gaze snapped sideways and downward. A hooded figure, shorter than her by several inches, stood casually at her side, as if he'd always been there. His magenta eyes glowed faintly under his cowl, slit like a serpent's or no, a dragon’s. They swept over the crowd with detached interest, like he was simply confirming a quiet suspicion.

Yue narrowed her eyes. That voice, rich, smooth, and way too deep for his build, did not match the small frame it came from. The contrast unsettled her more than she liked to admit.

Since when was he standing there? she thought, a prickle of alertness rising in her chest.

Her gaze caught the shape of his ears, long and tapered to fine points.

Ah, she realized with a slow breath. A fae. That explains the presence.

Still, she didn’t relax. If anything, her posture straightened ever so slightly.

He hadn’t looked at her once, yet his sudden proximity, his unshaken composure, and that hauntingly calm tone, it all struck a strange chord deep in her chest. Like déjà vu wrapped in fog.

Yue held her breath for a moment, her eyes quietly studying his face beneath the hood.

Do I… know him?

There was something in his expression, distant yet watchful, that felt eerily familiar. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t strangers, not entirely.

The small student standing beside Yue crossed his arms, his expression carved from stone, impossibly still, unreadable. “It appears the invitation to the ceremony failed to reach him… once again,” he murmured, his voice low and resonant, like distant thunder rolling through a cavern. It didn’t match his size in the slightest.

Yue stole a sidelong glance at him, her mind still trying to reconcile the contradiction of sound and form. He really doesn’t suit that body. The sheer maturity in his tone made her feel as if she were standing next to someone ancient rather than a fellow student.

Before she could dwell on it longer, Azul stepped into the lull with theatrical flair, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Oh, how dreadful!” he sighed with faux sorrow, his usual smug smirk swapped for a contrived look of remorse. “I assure you, it was never my intention to exclude our esteemed Diasomnia Housewarden from such an important event…”

His words oozed diplomacy, but Yue could sense the calculated distance in them. He was quick to apologize, but quicker to deflect the blame.

Riddle, standing stiffly nearby, crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Regardless, the fact remains that he’s nearly impossible to approach,” he said tersely, his lips thinning. His clenched fists twitched at his sides, a clear sign his temper still hadn’t cooled after Grim’s earlier fiasco.

The hooded fae student remained unmoved, as though the entire conversation didn’t concern him. “Even so,” he said after a pause, a faint shrug lifting his shoulders, “I will see to Diasomnia’s new residents.”

His voice was composed, almost serene, but it held a deep rumble that felt far too ancient to be so casual. “Hopefully,” he added, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips, “that boy isn’t sulking over this.”

Yue arched a brow, watching him with quiet suspicion. That boy? The way he said it, equal parts amused and exasperated, made it sound like he was talking about a friend... or a child. Not someone whose very name had made the entire room stiffen like startled prey.

Just who exactly is this person…? she wondered, something tightening in her chest. That voice, that presence, those eyes, none of it matched the surface.

She kept her arms at her side, posture relaxed but alert. It was clear now: in this world of monsters and mages, appearances really were just another kind of illusion.

As the Mirror Chamber gradually emptied, Yue lingered near the edge of the crowd, her ears catching bits and pieces of conversations still swirling around that name, Malleus Draconia. His absence had left more of a mark than most presences did. Even now, students murmured in hushed tones, their voices tinged with a blend of awe, dread, and something almost like reverence.

Yue watched them with a contemplative gaze, a flicker of sympathy tugging at her expression. If just a name could silence a room, then what must it be like to live with that kind of shadow? She could only imagine the pressure of being feared before you even spoke a word.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she caught Crowley’s eyes briefly flicking in her direction. It wasn’t a dramatic gesture, just a subtle glance, but clear enough. She gave a slight nod in return, understanding the unspoken message. Whatever he needed to say, it wasn’t meant for the crowd.

Soon, the last of the students filed out, their footsteps echoing faintly into silence. The magical glow of the Mirror Chamber cast long, ethereal shadows, bathing the space in a ghostly luminescence. Crowley remained near the dais, his figure tall and sharp in the fading shimmer of arcane light, every movement still brimming with his usual flair.

“—Well then, Yuu-san,” he began, voice crisp and composed now that the audience had cleared. He folded his hands behind his back, posture almost regal. “It is with my sincerest regrets that I must now inform you that your time here has come to an end. I’m afraid you, too, must vacate the premises.”

Yue didn’t flinch. She only sighed, softly but without bitterness. “Figures,” she said with a faint, resigned smile. “A supposed non-magical person in a magic school… guess that was never going to last.”

Crowley’s eyes gleamed at her calm response, a rare moment of approval cutting through his usual theatricality. “Ah! It is so refreshing to speak with someone who possesses a sense of reason,” he declared, his voice thick with exaggerated relief. “Truly, a rare and precious gem among the chaos.”

He flourished his hand toward the towering, ornate mirror at the far end of the room, its swirling, dark surface pulsing gently with unknown depths. “Now then! The Mirror of Darkness will kindly return you to your hometown swiftly, safely, and without fuss.” His tone almost sounded proud, as though presenting a prized artifact. “Please, step forward and stand before the Gate.”

Back to the world I came from… the normal one.

But even as her feet moved toward the mirror, a quiet hesitation tugged at her.

Normal? The word rang hollow in her mind.

No, her world had magic too. It had ancient ruins whispered to house cursed gods, dungeons where monsters bred in darkness, and nobles who ruled under the ever-watchful eyes of emperors. There were sorcerers, witches, and beasts cloaked in shadows. But where this world gleamed with polished marble, gilded uniforms, and curated arcane rituals, hers was tangled, brutal, raw.

Magic in her world didn’t always come with elegance. It came with cost. With blood. With history people tried too hard to forget.

The monsters in her world didn’t just hide in ruins. Some wore royal crests. Some sat on thrones. Some nobles who hide behind their two facade faces.

She paused before the mirror, its swirling depths reflecting more than just her face. A flicker of something older stirred in her chest, grief with edges worn sharp by time. She had things left undone back there. Vows unfulfilled. Shadows yet to confront.

She didn’t dare name it aloud, not yet. Not here.

But she hadn't forgotten. Not for a second.

Her hand brushed against the pendant hidden under her shirt, fingers tightening briefly.

Then she exhaled, steady and quiet, and stepped forward.

Crowley extended his arm with a dramatic flair, his voice ringing with practiced command. “Now, step into the gate, and visualize the place from whence you came. O Dark Mirror, return this soul to where it belongs!”

The mirror’s surface rippled once… then stilled.

Nothing happened.

A beat passed.

Crowley cleared his throat with forced bravado. “Ahem– l-let us, er… try that once more, shall we?” He raised his staff again, more insistently this time. “O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!”

The mirror pulsed faintly—then a low, resonant voice emerged, slow and unyielding:

“There is no such place.”

Yue blinked, the words echoing strangely in her chest.

Crowley froze. “What?”

The voice repeated, unwavering:

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. None.”

A silence fell over the chamber, heavy and surreal. Yue’s eyes widened faintly, not in fear, but in realization. So… I really did cross over. This isn’t just another country, or a continent I’ve never seen. This is another world entirely.

Behind his mask, Crowley paled. “How can that be?” he muttered, beginning to pace in tight circles. “This day is a veritable parade of the impossible! First the ceremony chaos, then the magical misfires, and now this? A soul with no tether? No origin? It defies everything I know about interdimensional theory!”

Yue tilted her head slightly, arms folding as she watched him spiral. Amusement flickered across her face, subtle but unmistakable. For someone who’d just been told she didn’t belong anywhere in this world, she looked remarkably unfazed. In fact, if anything, she looked… intrigued.

Not scared. Not panicked.

She simply observed, calm and almost entertained, a faint glint of curiosity in her gaze. Figures. The universe finally spat me out somewhere stranger than home.

The Dark Mirror remained eerily still, its dark surface swirling faintly as if deep in contemplation.

Crowley cleared his throat, attempting to retain his usual composure. “This has never occurred in all my years as Headmaster. I must admit, I find myself rather perplexed.” He turned his curious gaze toward Yue. “Tell me, young man—what land do you hail from?”

Yue paused, considering her answer carefully.

It wasn’t a question with a straightforward answer. She had traveled often, wandering between regions, staying where she was needed or where fate pulled her next. Her shisho’s quiet estate had become something of a home base over time, but could she truly call it her origin?

After a thoughtful moment, she settled on the most neutral, least complicated option.

“…The Vastoria Empire.”

Crowley’s brow lifted in interest. “Vastoria Empire, you say?”

He folded his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with such a place. And I pride myself on knowing the homeland of every student who has ever stepped through this mirror. But this Vastoria Empire of yours, completely escapes my knowledge.”

Yue offered a slight shrug, her voice calm. “Didn’t expect it would be on your map.”

There was a subtle undertone to her words, something light, almost playful, yet it left the door open to questions she clearly wasn’t ready to answer.

“Well then!” Crowley exclaimed, straightening with renewed vigor. “No mystery should be left unsolved under my roof. Let us consult the library and see what can be uncovered, shall we?”

Yue gave a nod, following with even steps, her expression unreadable. Yet in her silvery moon eyes, a quiet spark flickered with curiosity, maybe. Or something amusing. Something waiting.

Yue glanced around the library, finally taking in its full atmosphere now that there was time to breathe. The towering shelves stretched endlessly into the shadows, lined with countless volumes, ancient tomes and arcane scripts, all softly illuminated by floating lanterns that flickered with blue light. The dark, polished floors reflected the glow like a calm lake under starlight. It was the kind of place stories were born in and secrets buried.

Perched on a cushioned chair near Crowley’s desk, she lazily swung her legs back and forth, watching with thinly veiled amusement as the Headmaster tore through book after book at lightning speed. For all his flair and dramatics, he was shockingly efficient, pages flying, fingers flipping, eyes darting from line to line with practiced precision. She had to admit, he wasn’t Headmaster for nothing.

"Nothing!" Crowley suddenly exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air.

Yue leaned back instinctively, just in time to dodge a flailing sleeve aimed dangerously close to her head. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, and amusement sparkled in her eyes. She didn’t speak, just observed, like one might watch a particularly passionate bird forgetting it couldn’t fly indoors.

With a frustrated huff, Crowley slammed shut a massive tome. The sound echoed like thunder through the otherwise hushed space, drawing the attention of a few magical lamps that briefly flickered in surprise.

“Just as I'd suspected. Nothing,” he said, voice edged with theatrical despair. “Not a single reference. Not only is your homeland absent from every known map in recorded history, there’s no mention of it in folklore, legends, or obscure travel logs!”

He leaned across the desk, gaze narrowing suspiciously. “Now then… Are you quite certain this Vastoria Empire exists? That it wasn’t a fib or… a joke? Because unless you're pulling a rather elaborate prank, which would be terribly ill-timed, the only explanation is that you’re from another planet. Or worse—” he drew back, gesturing wildly to emphasize the scandal  “you were summoned here from another dimension!”

Yue tilted her head thoughtfully, resting her cheek against her hand. There was no panic in her expression, no denial. Only that familiar glint of mischief in her crimson eyes, calm and sharp like a blade hidden beneath silk.

“Another dimension, huh?” she echoed, as if tasting the words. “That’d certainly explain the fashion choices around here.”

Crowley spluttered, clearly unsure if she was mocking him or just unfazed.

She didn’t elaborate further. Let him stew in theories for now, after all, the truth was far messier than even she wanted to admit.

Yue pretended to mull over Crowley’s dramatic declaration, lips pursed in a thoughtful line as if the idea had only just dawned on her. In truth, the moment the Mirror of Darkness had whispered those cryptic words, “There is no place in this world where this soul belongs” she had already guessed the truth.

Dimensional travel. Of course.

Still, it was a different thing entirely to hear it aloud.

She gave a light shrug, her tone laced with casual acceptance. “It seems that’s the only plausible answer right now.”

Crowley blinked, as if taken aback by her composure. Most people, when faced with the revelation that they’d been flung into another world, would’ve collapsed in panic, or at the very least demanded answers with frantic urgency. But Yue? She sat as serene as a pond at midnight, her silver eyes glinting like embers beneath a veil of disinterest.

Whether the Headmaster didn’t notice her unusual calm or was simply too preoccupied unraveling the growing mystery he didn’t press the matter.

Instead, he cleared his throat and straightened his cravat. “Very well, then. Let’s proceed with the basics.” He swept a hand toward her, as though expecting her to produce a briefcase of paperwork. “Show me everything you brought with you. Any form of identification? A driver’s license, perhaps? A letter of noble recommendation? Or even a… shoe? You do appear rather empty-handed, I must say.”

Yue blinked once at the last suggestion.

“A shoe?” she echoed, amused.

She took a moment to pat herself down, fingers brushing over the fabric of her uniform, lingering briefly at her left ear where a delicate earring dangled, and then slipping down to the pendant resting against her chest, a silver locket etched with an intricate sigil, holding a worn portrait within. Her hand finally paused at the jade talisman tucked neatly against her collarbone, its cool surface familiar and grounding.

Aside from those few things… she carried nothing. At least, nothing that could be seen.

Of course, Crowley didn’t need to know everything.

She kept her expression carefully neutral, a little thoughtful, a little apologetic. “Seems like that’s all I’ve got on me. Physically, at least.”

There was the briefest twitch of her lips, half-smile, half secret.

Crowley didn’t catch it. Or if he did, he was too busy pacing and muttering under his breath to question it.

And Yue? She leaned back in her chair, legs swinging once more, silently taking stock of the situation.

Another world, huh?

Well. She’d been through worse. Right now, Yue had one priority, survival.
Answers, consequences, the bizarre reality of having crossed worlds… all that could wait. She’d shelve the questions for later and let future Yue deal with the existential dread. Present Yue had more immediate concerns like food, shelter, and maybe not being kicked out onto the street in a world she didn’t belong to.

Crowley clasped his gloved hands behind his back with a theatrical sigh, his feathered mask drooping slightly as if weighted by the sheer gravity of the situation.

“Well, this is quite the predicament,” he said, as if narrating a grand tragedy. “I can hardly have someone with no demonstrable aptitude for magic wandering around the halls of this prestigious academy like a lost duckling.”

He paused, then added, voice softening with an exaggerated sense of pity, “And yet... as an educator, I find myself deeply troubled by the thought of turning away a young person. No coin to their name, no guardian to call upon… It would simply be inhumane of me.”

Yue arched a brow, barely suppressing the amused smirk that tugged at her lips. Such a gracious man indeed, she thought dryly. Still, she wasn’t about to argue with hospitality, no matter how flamboyantly it was packaged.

Crowley continued, clearly enjoying his own monologue. “In the meantime, of course, we shall look into ways to return you to your world. Research, inquiry, mystical probing, it’s all terribly complicated work, but worry not!” He flourished a hand over his chest. “For I, Headmaster Crowley, shall rise to the task. A man of compassion! A model educator!”

He turned to her with a wide, proud smile, waiting for what Yue could only assume was a round of applause. She gave him a polite nod instead.

“That’s... reassuring,” she said with a straight face.

“Indeed!” he beamed. “Well then, I shall escort you to your temporary lodging posthaste. It’s an older building, but, ah, it has plenty of character, one might say.”

Yue tilted her head slightly, amused. “Character, huh?” That usually meant leaky ceilings, creaky floors, and at least one ghost. Maybe two, if she was lucky.

But still, a roof was a roof. And for now, that was enough.

Yue stood at the base of the so-called Ramshackle Dorm, arms crossed and expression unreadable. The building loomed before her like something out of a haunted folktale, its crooked windows aglow with sickly moonlight, the roof sagging like it had long since given up hope, and ivy climbing the walls as though trying to strangle the life out of what remained.

She blinked once. Then slowly tilted her head to the side.

“Certainly too much character, if you ask me,” she remarked dryly, sarcasm laced so thin it might have gone unnoticed if not for the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Crowley, unbothered and ever-delighted by his own theatrics, clapped his hands once. “Isn’t it delightful? So quaint, so cozy in that... neglected sort of way! Right, scoot inside now. There you go!”

Yue hesitated only a moment before stepping forward, boots crunching on gravel and dead leaves as she pushed open the creaky front door. A cloud of dust greeted her like a long-lost relative.

She didn’t sigh, though she very much wanted to. No point complaining now. A roof was a roof, even if that roof might cave in at any given moment.

“This should keep the elements at bay for the time being,” Crowley announced behind her, gesturing grandly at the decaying structure. “Now then, I must return to my oh-so-important research. Do try to find some way to occupy yourself. Just don’t go wandering the campus. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now would we? Ta!”

And just like that, the headmaster vanished in a flourish of feathers and fog, leaving Yue in the doorway of what might generously be called a residence.

She stepped further inside and immediately regretted it.

The interior was worse. Much worse.

Peeling wallpaper hung like wilted petals, floorboards groaned beneath her weight as if protesting her existence, and every surface was blanketed in a thick layer of dust. Moonlight filtered in through cracked windows, casting jagged shadows across broken furniture and forgotten debris.

Yue wrinkled her nose, eyes scanning the ruined lounge in muted disbelief. 

“It’s like a desolate snowscape,” she murmured. “Only with dust… I don’t even see a clean place to sit.”

She gave the room one more look, unimpressed but resigned. “Well… beggars can’t be choosers now, can they?” she added with a shrug, stepping further inside and letting the door creak shut behind her.

Yue let out a long, heavy sigh, one that carried the weight of mounting irritation.

“Well,” she muttered with dry disdain, “it’s getting harder and harder not to lose what little respect I thought I had for that man.”

She stood in silence for a moment, arms folded as her eyes drifted across the dusty, half-rotted remains of what was generously called a dormitory. No one in their right mind would consider this a place fit for habitation. But complaining wouldn’t change her situation. Not yet, anyway.

“Focus on survival first,” she reminded herself with a sigh, “everything else can be future Yue’s problem.”

Trying to see the silver lining, however tarnished, it occurred to her that now would be a good chance to test her magic. She hadn’t had the opportunity since arriving in this strange world, and the quiet gloom of the abandoned dorm made for a good testing ground.

She closed her eyes briefly to center herself, drawing in a slow breath.

But before she could gather her energy, a soft golden glow blinked into her vision.

Her eyes opened, and there it was, just one.

A single Rukh, luminous and delicate, fluttered down before her like a drifting ember. She instinctively raised her hand, and the tiny creature came to rest on her finger, its wings humming gently like the chime of a distant bell.

Yue’s expression softened for the briefest moment. “Hey there…”

But the calm quickly gave way to confusion. Her gaze flicked around the room, scanning the shadows, the broken windows, the rafters overhead.

“Where are the rest of you guys?” she asked, voice dipping into a frown. “I usually see dozens and hundreds. Why are you alone?”

The lone Rukh tilted slightly, as if it understood but couldn’t answer. Yue’s brow furrowed.

That’s when she saw it.

Something dark etched into her wrist—lines that hadn’t been there before. She raised both arms slowly, inspecting them under the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows. The markings were symmetrical on each wrist, elegant, yet binding. Eight branching lines fanned outward like vines, curling tightly around her skin. Not ornamental. Not harmless.

Chains.

Her eyes narrowed, mouth flattening into a tight line. “A seal,” she whispered.

It wasn’t painful, but it felt like a barrier pressing down on her very soul. Restricting. Suppressing. She recognized the kind of work this was deliberate, precise, and most likely the reason her magic felt so faint and distant.

"Of course. Figures this world wouldn't make things easy," she muttered, fingers curling slightly.

Still, if there was even a sliver of her power left, she had to know how much. She clenched her fist, set her stance, and with a narrowed gaze, focused.

Yue decided to test her magic.

Yue stood alone in the center of the crumbling room, the air heavy with the weight of silence and dust. The dilapidated walls seemed to close in around her, but she didn’t flinch. With a soft exhale, she let the surroundings fade into the background.

In this moment, there was only her, and her magic.

She closed her eyes, her fingers gently curling into a firm clasp in front of her. A stillness washed over her, calm but focused. She could feel the familiar pulse of magic, buried beneath the seal, like a slumbering giant, waiting for the slightest provocation to stir. Despite the restraints, the rhythm of her magic was always there.

With a deep breath, she began the incantation, her voice soft but clear:

“O moon that shines through the dark night,
Guiding lost souls with silver light,
Stars that weave in constellation's grace,
Present yourself before my face—”

The words hung in the air, reverberating with the ancient power they carried. For a moment, everything seemed still, the room, the light, even the Rukh that had followed her.

And then, as the final syllables left her lips, a sudden pulse of energy thrummed through the room, vibrating with an intensity that seemed to resonate deep within her chest.

Yue’s eyes flickered open, just as a brilliant light erupted from her clasped hands. The room shimmered with a soft, celestial glow, the air charged with the magic that had long lain dormant.

Yue gazed at the staff in her hands, the sight of it filling her with a quiet sense of awe. It was a vision of elegance, one that seemed to capture the essence of the night sky itself. Crafted from slender, polished silver, the staff gleamed softly in the dim light of the room. Intricate engravings snaked their way along its shaft, delicate swirls and lines that appeared as if woven by stardust itself, each mark precise, purposeful, and alive with the faint hum of magic. The craftsmanship was exquisite, as if the staff had been carved by celestial hands.

At the top of the staff, a crescent moon cradled a star-shaped gemstone, pulsing with an ethereal blue glow that seemed to reach out to her. The gemstone shimmered with the light of a thousand distant stars, its glow steady and steady, as if alive with the very essence of moonlight. Surrounding the crescent were delicate silver vines, wrapping around the moon in an elegant embrace. Tiny leaves, so finely detailed they seemed almost real, added a natural grace, softening the sharp brilliance of the staff. It felt less like an artifact of power and more like an extension of the night sky itself, beautiful, quiet, and eternal.

Suspended from the crescent, a fine silver chain glimmered, its delicate links holding a small crystal that swayed gently with the movement of the staff. The crystal caught and refracted the faint light, scattering tiny specks of brilliance across the room like miniature stars twinkling in the void of night.

The lower end of the staff tapered into a fine point, sharp and sleek, with another teardrop-shaped gemstone embedded into the tip. Its cool, ice-blue hue gave off a faint, almost imperceptible glow that mirrored the chill of starlight itself.

Yue held the staff carefully, almost reverently. It was more than just a tool or a weapon, it was a conduit, a link to something far greater than herself. The staff exuded both grace and power, its calming, mystical aura filling the room and radiating a quiet strength. It embodied the delicate beauty of the moon and the unyielding force of the stars, a tangible manifestation of the cosmos that resonated deeply with her spirit.

A smile tugged at Yue’s lips as she ran her fingers over the cool surface of the staff. It was both familiar and new, an old companion and yet an item she had only just reclaimed. The connection between them was instant, something she couldn’t quite explain, but something she knew deep in her bones. This staff, this piece of the night sky, was hers.

For the first time since arriving in this strange world, she felt a flicker of hope. Her magic was still within her, and though it might be sealed for now, it would not remain so forever.

It was a relief to Yue that she could still manage basic magic, even if more complex spells felt slightly out of reach. She wasn’t entirely sure what the extent of her restrictions were, but she’d test that another time. For now, it was enough to know she wasn’t entirely powerless. The question of how much of her magic had been sealed lingered in the back of her mind, but there would be time to explore that later.

For the moment, the impending rainstorm outside made her priorities clear. She needed warmth, and the cold, neglected dorm didn’t exactly provide that. Without hesitation, she flicked her wand toward the fireplace. A burst of flame ignited immediately, crackling to life with a vigor that filled the room with a welcome heat. The fire crackled and sparked, its warmth quickly spreading through the room, and Yue let out a content sigh.

As the rain began to tap against the windows, she made her way over to the sofa. Her tired body sank into the soft cushions, the warmth of the fire curling around her like a gentle embrace. She placed her wand back into her earring, the subtle connection between them humming softly in the quiet of the room.

Yue leaned back, watching the flames dance as she allowed herself a moment of peace. The storm outside only seemed to deepen the sense of calm that settled over her. She could hear the rain grow heavier, its rhythmic patter soothing in its own way, like a lullaby.

The days ahead would no doubt bring their challenges, but for now, in the quiet warmth of the fireplace, Yue let herself relax. It was a brief respite, but she’d take it. Tomorrow, she would deal with whatever came her way. Tonight, though, she would simply enjoy the stillness, the quiet, and the fire.

“Looks like it started to rain…” she murmured to herself, voice barely above a whisper.

Just as sleep began to pull her under, a sudden screech shattered the peace.

“GWAH! It’s pouring out there!”

Yue’s eyes flew open in surprise, her body instinctively tensing as she turned toward the source.

“Grim?!”

She blinked, genuinely caught off guard by the sight of the soaking-wet, fur-covered troublemaker bursting into the room like a storm of his own.

The little creature puffed up his chest and grinned wide, water droplets flying from his fur as he shook himself off with theatrical flair.

“Bwahaha! That look on your face is priceless!” Grim cackled. “Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun! You really thought I’d just stay gone? Please. I’m way too sneaky for that!”

Yue narrowed her eyes, brushing damp curls away from her face as she sat up straighter. Despite herself, the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement.

Grim continued, proudly strutting into the room with his usual chaotic energy. “I ain't givin’ up on goin’ here just 'cause I got kicked out one measly ol’ time. And if you think otherwise, you don’t know Grim! I got dreams, baby!”

Yue tilted her head, observing him with a curious glint in her eye. There was always something ridiculous about him, but underneath that fur and bluster, there was something strangely admirable too.

“You really are desperate to join this school,” she said, voice softer this time, curiosity bleeding through. “Why is that?”

Grim’s ears perked, and for a moment, he looked more serious than usual, until he dramatically puffed up his chest again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he boomed. “I was born for this! I’m a magical prodigy destined to be one of the greatest mages of all time! I’ve been waiting and waiting for that fancy black carriage to show up for me. And yet… nothing!”

He huffed indignantly, flames almost flickering from his tail.

“That Dark Mirror’s got no eye for true talent! So I took matters into my own paws and came here myself. You humans really don’t get it, not lettin’ me in is the greatest tragedy the magical world’s ever seen!”

Yue chuckled under her breath, watching him prance around as if delivering a heroic monologue. There was something oddly charming about how confidently he spun his own narrative, rain-matted fur and all.

Then Grim perked up suddenly, flinching as another drop hit one of his ears.

“Mrrao! C’mon, scoot over! I’m getting dripped on here! Bwah! Another hole in the roof!” he cried out, darting toward the sofa. “These flamin’ ears are like my trademark, y’know? I can’t let ’em get doused!”

Yue rolled her eyes with a sigh that barely masked her grin, but she shifted over and pulled the blanket aside, letting the soggy little menace climb up beside her.

Yue glanced up at the dripping ceiling, then down at the growing puddles, water rhythmically plinking into a mismatched assortment of buckets she'd scavenged from storage. With a deadpan expression and a resigned sigh, she muttered, “Good luck. The ceiling’s riddled with holes. Guess I’ll go look for some buckets.”

Grim, now curled on the sofa and trying to dry his ears with his tiny paws, shot her a smug look.
“I dunno why you don’t just magic those holes away. You could have this whole dump patched up in half a jiff.” He snorted. “Ahhh, right. You can’t use magic at all. Pffft man, you’re useless.”

Yue arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by the jab. She’d dealt with worse than a talking furball with delusions of grandeur.

“If you’re the great magician Grim,” she said coolly, “I’m sure you could do it in a jiff too.”

Grim puffed up indignantly. “Hmph! Heh? You want me to help you?” He scoffed and turned his nose up theatrically. “Ha! You got the wrong idea. I’m just a poor, drenched traveler seekin’ shelter from the storm. You ain’t the boss of me! Now, if you had a few cans of tuna to sweeten the deal… well, then we might talk. But I don’t work for free.”

Yue shook her head with a soft chuckle. Of course. If food was involved, he'd probably patch the entire dorm with duct tape and charm it himself. “Oh dear,” she mused aloud, sarcasm dripping as thick as the rain outside, “the leaks are really getting bad. …About those buckets.”

Some minutes later, she stood alone in the creaky hallway, arms crossed and expression unamused as she surveyed her handiwork. The buckets, now scattered across the warped floorboards, filled slowly with rainwater from above. She tilted her head back, peering at the ceiling with a weary look that blended exasperation and disbelief.

This place was falling apart faster than she could patch it.
She exhaled sharply through her nose. Seriously? The headmaster stuck a minor in a dorm that’s one monsoon away from total collapse? She couldn’t decide whether to be offended or impressed by the audacity.

Just then, a piercing wail echoed down the hall.

“Gaaah!”

Yue jumped slightly, eyes snapping toward the source of the sound.

Suddenly, a wispy, translucent figure floated down from the ceiling like a child-sized bedsheet ghost. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly, and a rickety laugh poured out of its mouth like a creaky music box losing its tune.
“Yee hee hee… Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! We haven’t had visitors in ages! Oh, I’m just itchin’ for new friends! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

Yue blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then tilted her head in curiosity rather than fear. “Well,” she said slowly, taking in the odd little specter hovering before her, “things really are getting more interesting by the second.”

A sudden shriek cut through the dusty air like a blade.

“Hey, keep it down over?! AAAAAAH! GHOSTS! GHOOOOOOSTS!”

Grim had bolted upright, fur fluffed and tail three times its normal size. He scrambled backward onto the sofa, eyes wide as saucers as three spectral figures hovered into the flickering firelight.

One, with a friendly yet unsettling grin, floated forward with a casual shrug.
“All the people who used to live here got scared of us and ran away,” the ghost said wistfully, its voice echoing like a memory trapped in the walls.

A rounder, chubbier ghost bobbed excitedly beside him, clapping his little translucent hands.
“We just want a new ghost to play with! What do you say, buddy?”

Yue took a calm step back, assessing the situation with a flick of her eyes. Three ghosts, all seemingly harmless, childlike, even. She didn’t sense any malice, just pent-up energy and a desperate need for attention. Still, she kept her hand subtly near her earring, just in case.

Grim, on the other hand, was a shivering mess.
“Eeeeep! I-I’m a master sorcerer! I ain’t afraid of any dumb ghosts! Myahaaa!”
With a crackle of panic, he fired a small spit of flame from his mouth, an erratic blast that completely missed its mark.

The skinny ghost from the back phased in and out with a mischievous giggle, while the chubby one continued to dart around.
“Over here! Over here! Ah ha ha ha!”

Grim spun around in circles, trying to chase them down.
“Argh! They keep disappearing and reappearing! Stand still, you floaty freaks!”

Yue sighed, long and deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. The firelight flickered over her expression, tired, unimpressed, and mildly concerned about her new sofa catching a rogue flame.

“…You're going to set the entire dorm ablaze,” she said flatly. “You can’t even aim properly with your eyes shut.”

“Shaddup!” Grim snapped, not looking at her. “I don’t need any lip from you, human!”

Yue crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one hip, a sly little smile tugging at her lips. She could tell he was flustered, not scared, of course. No, never scared. Just… energetically overreacting. That’s all.

“Tell you what,” she said, tone as casual as a cat toying with a bird. “Maybe the Headmaster will let you enroll if you prove you’re brave enough to handle a few friendly ghosts. Get rid of them, and I’ve got a can of tuna with your name on it.”

Grim froze mid-pounce, ears twitching at the mention of tuna.

“Tuna?” he echoed, voice suddenly low and serious.

Yue gave him an exaggerated nod, her amusement barely hidden. “Premium. Imported. Possibly even soaked in herbs.”

A silence fell, broken only by the distant patter of rain and the mischievous giggling of ghosts.

Grim’s eyes narrowed with new determination.
“Alright, ghosts. Y’all messed with the wrong mage.”
He turned dramatically to face them, tiny paws raised in defiance.
“I’m not doin’ this for her. I’m doin’ this… for the tuna.”

Yue chuckled softly, folding her arms and watching him march off to chase specters like a knight on a very chaotic, very flammable quest. Maybe this place won’t be so boring after all.

Grim’s fur was on end, ears twitching, tail lashing behind him like a stormcloud ready to burst.

“Myah…?! Hmph! I’m Grim, Master Sorcerer!” he snarled, stomping the floor in frustration. “How come I can’t even hit one of these little-”

Before he could finish, the room erupted in laughter as the ghosts danced around him, phasing in and out with wild, high-pitched giggles.

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Hrgh! Ganging up on us like that? Yer a buncha cowards!” Grim growled, breathing hard through his nose, his pride crumbling faster than the dorm ceiling.

Yue watched him quietly from the hallway, arms crossed and one brow arched in amusement. She shifted her gaze to the trio of ghosts, studying their antics. They weren’t hostile. Annoying? Yes. Mischievous? Absolutely. But dangerous? Not in the slightest. They just wanted to play with Grim, preferably. She could already see it: they weren’t attacking him so much as treating him like a new toy.

With a small sigh, she pushed off the wall and stepped forward, her voice dry with a touch of teasing.

“Did I say one can of tuna?” she called out. “I meant two.”

Grim’s ears twitched at the sound of her voice, his head snapping toward her like she’d just offered him divine salvation. “Myaaaah… You! Human! Tell me which way the ghosts are!”

Yue pointed calmly. “To your left.”

“AAAAAAH! IT BUUUURNS!” the skinny ghost howled, spinning wildly as one of Grim’s fireballs landed a lucky hit. The ghost spiraled backward, dramatically flailing before disappearing into the wall with a squeal.

Grim’s eyes lit up with triumph. “Ha! Got one! Keep it up, just like that! Let’s clear out the whole lot of ’em!”

Yue simply shook her head, already regretting offering that second can of tuna. Still, she played along, scanning the room and calling out the next direction like a battle strategist guiding a very loud, very flammable pawn.

“Two o’clock. Quick!”

“PHOO! PHOO! MYAH-YAH-YAH! PHOOOOO!”

The normal ghost let out a chuckle as the fireballs whizzed past him and fizzled against the far wall. “Missed by a country mile. Heh heh heh!”

Grim bared his teeth. “Rrrrgh! Hey! Human! You gotta be more clear with your directions! I can’t hear you!”

Before Yue could answer, the chubby ghost popped up right between them, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Oooooh! Secret talk? I want in! C’moooon!”

“MYAAAH! NO!” Grim shrieked, leaping a solid foot in the air. “You stay way, WAY back!”

Yue stifled a laugh behind her sleeve. She didn’t need magic for this. Just patience, a bit of dry humor, and the promise of tuna. That, apparently, was enough to turn a chaos-gremlin like Grim into a barely-functioning ghostbuster. As she watched the fireballs continue to fly, and the ghosts giggle and dodge like children playing tag, she couldn’t help but think…

This dorm might be falling apart, haunted, and drafty, but at least it’s never boring.

Grim puffed out his chest, strutting around with his usual overblown bravado, a wide grin stretched across his face.

"Now that’s more like it! I knew I was a total whiz with magic!" he declared, twirling dramatically in place. "The great Grim can handle a couple of ghosts without some human tagging along! MYAHAHAHA!"

From behind a flickering wall sconce, the normal ghost let out a snort of laughter. “Pfft! Hahahaha!”

Grim’s ears flattened. "MYAH?! HUMAN!" he yelped, spinning around. "You gotta tell me if one of 'em's sneakin' up to spook me!"

Yue didn’t bother hiding her smirk as she observed the scene. Ghosts or not, this was quickly becoming more of a comedy show than a fight. Still, she kept her voice calm and steady, pointing toward a shimmer near the floorboards.

“Grim, to the right, low. Now.”

Without hesitation, Grim sucked in a breath. “PHOO! PHOOOOO!”

A burst of flame lit up the dusty hallway. The chubby ghost yelped, spinning like a top. “Yeowch!”

The skinny ghost wasn’t spared either. “That burns!”

Grim blinked in surprise, then cackled. “Nice! That actually worked!” He spun to look at Yue, eyes wide with sudden excitement. “Hey, human! What should I do next? Give 'em the works? Heh! Can do! Myaaah… Eat THIS! MYAAAH!”

A storm of poorly-aimed fireballs launched from Grim’s mouth, forcing the ghosts to scatter in a flurry of startled wails.

"Hwaaahhh! We gotta get outta here!" one of them cried. "Before we get disappeared for good!"

And just like that, the hallway fell eerily quiet. Only the soft plop of water dripping from the leaky ceiling remained.

Grim blinked, tail twitching. “H-huh? Did we… win?”

Yue’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter as she stepped over the scorched floor, crouching to meet Grim at eye level. Her tone softened, a rare warmth in her voice.

“We did it, Grim,” she said with a small smile. “You did an amazing job.”

For a beat, Grim looked stunned. Then, as quickly as the praise landed, he flailed dramatically.

“Aw, geez, I was scared outta my- I mean-” He cleared his throat and stood tall, dusting soot from his fur. “They didn’t faze me one bit! Just a walk in the park for a mage of my caliber!”

He turned toward the empty air where the ghosts had vanished.

“Whaddaya got to say now, ghosties?” he shouted. “That’s right!”

Yue didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with a faint smile tugging at her lips. It was hard not to be amused, even charmed, in a way by how fast he swung between cowardice and pride. But she didn’t mind. Maybe she’d lucked out with her odd little roommate after all.

Crowley appeared in a flash of dramatic flair, his usual theatrical tone echoing through the dusty hallway.

"Good evening!" he announced, sweeping his cape like a magician revealing a trick. "In another generous act of benevolence, I have brought you dinner- wait just a moment! That's the creature we ejected for causing chaos at orientation! What is that doing here?!"

Grim, still puffed up with pride from the ghost chase, gave a smug snort and waved a paw dismissively.
"Takin' care of your ghost problem, that's what. You're welcome, by the way."

Crowley's eyes narrowed as he looked between Yue and the smug little fire furball. "What is the meaning of this, Yuu? Although, now that I think about it... I do recall that this dorm had quite the mischievous ghost issue. Ah yes, that’s precisely why it was abandoned in the first place! The spirits drove every last student away in terror. And you're suggesting the two of you… worked together to banish them?"

Yue folded her arms, expression dry as sandpaper. She tilted her head, lips curling into a deadpan smile.

“And you thought it was a good idea for me to stay here?”

Crowley let out a suspiciously well-timed cough and turned his head away, suddenly very interested in the floor tiles.

Grim scoffed, clearly offended. "‘Joined forces’ ain't exactly how I'd put it. I’m the one who blasted those floaty freaks outta here. The human just stood around and pointed!"

He paused. A beat passed before his eyes widened with sudden realization.

"Hey! Wait a sec- I never got those cans of tuna ya promised!"

Yue smiled sweetly, kneeling just enough to meet Grim’s eyes with mock sincerity. “I didn’t say when you’d get them.”

Grim’s mouth dropped open in betrayal.

Before he could launch into a dramatic protest, Crowley cleared his throat and stepped in, clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

"Would you two be so kind as to demonstrate your ghost-eradication methods for me?" he asked, one gloved hand resting on his chest, the other motioning toward the hallway with curious intrigue.

Yue gave him a look that was half exhaustion, half disbelief.

She could already tell this was going to be the beginning of a long, strange chapter in her life, one haunted dorm, one smug fire demon-cat, and now an overly dramatic headmaster asking for demonstrations like this was some kind of circus act.

Still, if she wanted to survive in this bizarre school, it looked like she’d have to play along.

"Sure," she said flatly. "But you're cleaning up if Grim burns down a wall."

Grim threw his paws in the air, his ears flattening as he groaned loudly. "One, no, ‘cause I already wiped 'em all out! And two, no, ‘cause where’s my tuna?!"

Crowley, ever the dramatist, held up one gloved hand with flourish. "Then allow me to play the part of the ghost," he declared proudly. "As for the tuna, you’ll receive it only if you defeat me. Ah, the generosity of Crowley knows no bounds… Now, to chug this transmutation potion!"

Before either of them could react, he downed a potion and, in a blink, his body dissolved into a spectral form, wispy and floating, with a glowing skull-like mask and curling trails of mist pouring off his robes.

Grim blinked. “That’s more like it! Ah wait, you gotta be kiddin’ me. I gotta work with the human again?”

Yue crouched to his level with a smirk tugging at her lips and lightly tapped his nose. “This could be your big moment, you know. Enroll in school, show off the great magician Grim, and walk away with cans of tuna. Two birds, one fireball.”

Grim scrunched his face and crossed his arms. "Hrmph. All right, fine, but this is the last time. And I better be up to my jowls in tuna afterward!"

Without another word, Yue stood and focused on Crowley’s ghost form, narrowing her eyes slightly. No chant, no staff, no wand, he'd transformed instantly, effortlessly. Just a potion, apparently. Her gaze lingered on the ethereal shape floating in the air, mist curling around him like living smoke.

So that’s the kind of magic he’s capable of, she thought. No incantation. Not even a gesture. Definitely not someone to underestimate… So he’s not all smoke and theatrics after all, she thought. He really is the Headmaster for a reason.

She pointed sharply. "Grim, now. Go for the left flank. He's slow on turns."

“PHOO! PHOO! MYAAAH!” Grim launched his attacks like an unhinged turret, fireballs flying in chaotic, scorching arcs. Crowley's ghost form bobbed and weaved, theatrically dodging while chuckling ominously. After a final, explosive volley, Grim dropped to his haunches, panting hard, smoke curling off his whiskers.

"Well?" Grim asked breathlessly, eyes locked on the swirling ghost.

Crowley slowly floated over, utterly unbothered by the lingering haze of scorched air, then with no spell, no signal, returned to his human form in the blink of an eye. His mask remained perfectly perched, and his painted grin hadn’t so much as twitched.

“Incredible,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Incredible… I’ve never seen anyone bend a monster to their will quite the way you have.”

Yue blinked.

Crowley nodded to himself as he continued. “My educator’s intuition did pick up something about you during the, ahem, commotion at orientation, Yuu. You’ve got a certain… animal trainer-y, beast master-ish vibe. Very compelling. Oh, yes, that explains it perfectly.”

He trailed off mid-thought, mumbling to himself as his gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the hallway. Clearly, he'd spiraled into his own world again, forming conclusions no one else could follow and forgetting they were even there.

Yue glanced at Grim, who stood stiffly by her side. His usual bravado was notably absent. His eyes flicked between her and the headmaster, cautious but hopeful. He didn’t say anything, but his tail twitched, betraying the nervous energy running through him.

Yue studied him quietly. For all his attitude and loud mouth, he was… earnest. And frankly, kind of endearing. Even if he drove her up the walls, she couldn’t deny the little menace had grown on her.

I guess it doesn’t hurt to help him out a little.

She straightened and called out, calmly but clearly.

“Headmaster.”

Crowley snapped out of his trance, blinking in surprise. “Yes, yes, what is it?”

Yue gestured toward Grim with a small nod. “Would it be possible… for Grim to stay with me? And attend the school?”

Crowley snapped his head toward Yue so fast his feathered hat nearly flew off. “WHAT?! A monster? Stay here? In my prestigious institution?!”

Grim’s ears perked up as he blinked at her, stunned. “Whoa… Did you just…?”

Yue barely flinched at Crowley’s theatrical outburst. Her expression was neutral, bordering on bored, as she folded her arms and gave him a look that suggested please stop screaming before I develop a headache. “Let’s be honest,” she said plainly, “it’s not like he’ll stop trying to get in. You saw what happened at orientation. He’s persistent. And loud. Wouldn’t it save you a lot of trouble if he were already part of the student body instead of clawing at the gates every day?”

Crowley puffed up in offense, clearly not used to being spoken to so reasonably while he was still mid-dramatic reaction.

Yue pressed on, tone cool and level. “Besides, as you said earlier, this dorm was abandoned because of ghost activity. And since you said ‘don’t have magic’-” she paused, letting the words hang deliberately “-I could use someone to help keep them at bay. Grim proved himself useful in that regard.”

Her lips tugged up in a small, sly smile. She hadn’t lied about not having magic. She just never confirmed it, either. She had no obligation to explain herself when they were so quick to assume. Yue always did like wordplay, especially when it turned a disadvantage into leverage.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed slightly, a gloved hand stroking the underside of his mask. “Hmm… I suppose I cannot deny your plea entirely.”

Grim’s tail fluffed up. “Myah? Really?!”

“Let me be absolutely clear,” Crowley cut in, stern once more. “Under no circumstances would I officially admit anyone to Night Raven College who was not chosen by the Dark Mirror, especially not a monster! Nor do I plan to allow you, Yuu, to loaf around here like a freeloader indefinitely.”

Yue simply nodded in understanding, her expression unreadable. “That’s fair,” she said without missing a beat. “Nothing in the world is free, after all.”

Grim slumped dramatically, his ears drooping. “Tch… Never shoulda got my hopes up.”

Crowley lifted one finger like a professor about to launch into a lecture. “Now then, allow me to explain. The Dark Mirror is the one who brought you here, Yuu. Therefore, the school bears some degree of responsibility for your current predicament. As such, I will allow you to remain in this dorm… free of charge.”

Yue arched a brow, clearly waiting for the catch.

“However,” Crowley continued with a grin far too wide, “you will be expected to pay for your own food, clothing, and other personal expenses. You are penniless, aren’t you? But don’t fret! I have just devised a most ingenious plan.”

He said it with all the flourish of someone about to unveil a golden solution, hands splayed like a stage magician ready to reveal the final trick.

Yue gave him a deadpan look. “You don’t say,” she replied flatly, the sarcasm dripping from her voice like honey from a blade.

Crowley paused, blinked once, then cleared his throat with a dramatic cough, clearly choosing to ignore the jab.

Yue, meanwhile, stood calm and composed, her mind already racing through whatever "plan" he had concocted. If nothing else, she knew how to adapt—and if she had to jump through flaming hoops to survive in this bizarre academy, well… she was already surrounded by ghosts, monsters, and egos. What was one more challenge?

Crowley cleared his throat with great ceremony, spreading his arms as if presenting them with a grand reward.

“You needn’t look so alarmed,” he began, his voice smooth with self-satisfaction. “I’m merely offering a modest opportunity, just a few odd jobs around campus. From the way you handled things here, Yuu, it’s clear you know your way around a broom. So, what do you say to become… the school’s janitorial team? A noble, if humble, calling!”

He beamed as though expecting applause.

“If you agree, I will make a very special exception and allow you to remain on campus. Furthermore, I shall grant you access to the library. There, you may study and research methods of returning home. How soundlessly charitable I am! …Of course, your duties must come first.”

Grim’s jaw dropped. “Whaaat?! That’s your big idea? I wanted to wear one of those cool uniforms and actually be a student! Not sweep up garbage!”

Crowley sighed dramatically. “If you’re unsatisfied, I can simply arrange to have you removed again.”

“Myah?! …Fine! Fine! I’ll do it,” Grim grumbled, ears twitching.

Yue remained silent for a beat, blinking slowly. Then she lifted her hand to pause the exchange.

“Not yet.”

Crowley tilted his head. “Oh? Is there a problem?”

“You said,” Yue began calmly, “that I’ll need to pay for my own food, clothing, and personal necessities, right?”

“I certainly did,” he replied proudly, as if repeating an award-winning line.

“And to earn that money,” she continued, her voice sweet and measured, “I’ll be doing odd jobs for you?”

“Yes, precisely. I knew you were clever.”

Yue smiled. Not a kind smile. No, this one had layers. Her eyes sparkled with mock innocence, and anyone who truly knew her would recognize it instantly. The scammer’s smile. The one she wore when someone thought they were the one doing the manipulating.

“I see,” she said gently. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to acquire food, hygiene products, and a change of clothes when I currently have no money, no supplies, and no way to obtain any until I’ve already done the work?”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“Do you expect me to begin work tomorrow unwashed, still in the same worn outfit, and with an empty stomach? Not to mention,” she gestured around the decrepit dorm with a sweeping hand, “this building has leaks. I can’t exactly live or work properly in a place that’s threatening to cave in every time it rains.”

Crowley blinked, suddenly looking far less composed. “Well, I… that is…”

“And,” Yue continued smoothly, stepping closer with her arms folded and her weight shifted to one leg, “if the school bears some degree of responsibility for my current situation, as you said, then surely, it’s not unreasonable to ask for the bare minimum to survive.”

Her tone was pleasant, but behind the words was an unmistakable edge, sharp, cold, and mercilessly logical.

“You will provide two weeks’ worth of necessities, food, basic hygiene products, and at least one change of clothes. And you will be fixing the leaks in this dorm. Otherwise, consider me physically unfit to complete any ‘odd jobs’ for you.”

Crowley’s jaw worked silently, his usual pomp deflating like a punctured balloon. He clearly hadn’t expected her to push back. Beside her, Grim leaned away ever so slightly.

“Myah... I think she just broke him,” he whispered to himself.

Yue tilted her head, smile widening, serene on the surface, but with a flicker of something more dangerous just beneath.

“Unless, of course… the generous Headmaster would prefer to explain to the faculty why he left a displaced, penniless minor from another world to starve in a haunted dorm with mold and faulty plumbing.”

Crowley sighed in utter defeat, shoulders slumping.

“…Very well,” he muttered, voice tight. “I shall… arrange for the necessary provisions… and address the dorm’s maintenance.”

Yue straightened, expression smoothing into a polite smile once more. “Lovely. I look forward to a productive partnership.”

Grim exhaled, inching closer to her. “Okay, note to self: never argue with you when you’re smiling like that…”

Yue patted his head gently. “Smart boy.”

Crowley muttered something about “wily little devils” under his breath and wandered off to begin making arrangements, clearly wondering what exactly he’d just gotten himself into.

Yue sat quietly on her bed, legs drawn up, arms resting loosely around them. The soft, steady rise and fall of Grim’s breathing filled the otherwise silent room. He lay curled up like a loaf of bread beside her pillow, his usual complaints and dramatic flailing absent in the peace of sleep. In sleep, he really did resemble a cat, even if he vehemently denied it.

Her eyes wandered past him to the moon outside her window. It hung high in the night sky, a pale sentinel wrapped in the hush of darkness, casting a cool, silver glow across the worn wooden floor and cracked walls of the room. The light brushed over her features, lending her expression an ethereal stillness, calm, but unreadable, like a statue in thought. It was almost as if she were silently conversing with the moon itself.

A moment later, she moved. Soundless and slow, she slipped off the bed and padded over to the window. She perched herself on its edge, one leg tucked under the other, her back resting lightly against the chilled wall. The breeze drifting in was crisp, smelling faintly of earth and old stone. Yue leaned her temple against the wall, letting out a long, weary sigh.

What a day.

Just this morning, she’d been in her world, minding her own business. Then, without warning, bam, she was pulled into another realm. Magic, monsters, and mayhem all within her first hour of arrival. And school. Of all places, she’d ended up in a magic school.

Her brow twitched slightly at the thought.

Then came Grim, who called himself a monster, but still hissed when his ears were tugged and had the gall to nap in her bed like he owned it. He was fussy, loud, and far too proud for his size. Still… she glanced at the small, sleeping lump on her bed. There was something oddly comforting about having him around. Maybe it was the familiarity in the chaos.

Then there was the Headmaster.

She clicked her tongue quietly. Crowley. A man so full of theatrical flair, he practically sparkled when he spoke. “Generous,” he claimed. Generous enough to toss her into a decrepit, ghost-infested dorm and offer her a janitorial job instead of actual aid. And yet… she’d still managed to twist his words back on him and get some basic living conditions. Small victories, she supposed.

Yue rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Her magic was sealed. She still didn’t know how or why she was summoned to this world. And on top of that, she’d already been forced into a fight with ghosts, no less. All within the same sun cycle.

“A bit much for day one,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. It was dry with amusement, but laced with a note of fatigue.

Still, she couldn’t deny there was a strange calm in all the absurdity. In her world, things had grown too still. Predictable. Here… everything felt unstable, chaotic, alive. It was terrifying. It was exhausting. But it was also, in some strange way, freeing.

Yue tilted her head slightly, eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at the moon again.

“Alright then,” she whispered, the corner of her lips quirking upward. “Let’s see where this rabbit hole goes.”

And for just a moment, beneath the silvery light of another world’s sky, Yue allowed herself to feel the weight of her exhaustion and the thrill of uncertainty.

Then she pushed it aside and simply… sat. Letting the night breeze brush her cheeks and the stars above keep her company.

Yue leaned her head more firmly against the cool wall, the quiet thrum of the night washing over her like a tide. She closed her eyes, allowing the weight of exhaustion to pull at her limbs. Her thoughts, however, refused to still.

There’s no way Crowley’s going to follow through with any real research, she mused, the corners of her mouth twitching into a dry, amused frown. Not after the nonsense he pulled today.

Between his melodramatic speeches, flair for deflection, and a complete lack of structural maintenance, she doubted the so-called headmaster had even opened a single book on cross-world summoning. The man didn’t even seem capable of fixing a leaky roof, much less unraveling interdimensional travel.

Which meant… she probably wasn’t going home anytime soon.

A heavy sigh left her lips, carried into the night by the faint breeze whispering through the cracked windowpane. Yue had always trusted her instincts. They’d kept her alive more times than she could count. And right now, they whispered a singular, stubborn truth: She was stuck here. For a while.

The silence pressed in around her, not suffocating, but vast. Deep. Timeless. Only the occasional rustle of wind in the trees or the soft creak of old wood reminded her the world hadn’t paused entirely. Well, that and Grim’s gentle, rhythmic snoring. She cracked open an eye and glanced back toward the bed.

He’d rolled over onto his back, tiny paws twitching in his sleep, a content little smile tugging at his mouth.

She chuckled under her breath, soft and genuine. Of course I had to haggle with Crowley over tuna cans too. She’d nearly dragged the man across his own desk to get Grim a small stash of food. Honestly, that little monster had no idea how lucky he was to have her around.

Though… if she was being honest, it wasn’t just about him. It had felt good, pushing Crowley into a corner with words alone. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing that smug mask of his crack.

A faint thought brushed against her, unbidden.

Stella-nee would’ve been proud of that negotiation.

Yue blinked slowly, the smile that touched her lips turning bittersweet. She missed them. Her rowdy, chaotic, loud, infuriatingly loyal senior siblings. Every last one of them. Even the ones who left wet towels on the floor and blamed her when the snacks went missing.

Her chest ached just slightly with the weight of homesickness, but she pushed it down gently, the way one tucks a fragile thing into a box to keep it safe.

Her thoughts shifted again to something Crowley had said earlier.

Beast taming…?

That had caught her off guard. She didn’t remember ever doing anything that might hint at such an ability. Sure, animals liked her well enough, but that was probably because she always fed the strays. She didn’t have any kind of magical bond with them… right?

Unless it’s more metaphorical, she mused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Or latent. Or ugh, great. More mysteries.

With another small, tired sigh, she stood and padded back to the bed, careful not to wake Grim. The old mattress creaked beneath her as she slid under the covers, letting herself sink into its worn softness. It wasn’t much, but it was better than stone and wind.

She turned on her side, facing the window. The moon was still there, quiet and unmoving, as though watching over her from above.

“...Guess I’ll be here for a while,” she murmured, the faintest wry smile on her lips.

Then, at last, her eyes fluttered shut. Her breathing slowed. The day’s chaos melted away, and the silence reclaimed her.

Sleep came gently, and for once, without dreams.

End of Chapter

Chapter Text

Yue slowly opened her eyes, her gaze meeting the timeworn ceiling of Ramshackle Dorm. The paint was chipped in several places, and a fine crack ran like a river across one of the wooden beams. For a moment, she simply lay there, blinking up at it in silence as her mind struggled to boot up.

Right... this isn't a dream.

A faint groan escaped her lips as she sat up, her muscles protesting slightly from the chaos of yesterday’s events. Her body, out of sheer habit, had woken her early, whether she liked it or not. Of course, even in another world, my internal clock is relentless, she thought bitterly.

Yawning, she stretched her arms high over her head, her joints popping one after another in a satisfying chorus. Her hair, wild and tangled from sleep, drooped slightly in her face as she stared blankly ahead, waiting for her groggy mind to catch up with her body.

Another world. A magical school. A talking, fire-breathing cat er…, monster. Ghosts. Ramshackle Dorm. The whole absurdity of yesterday slowly returned like an annoying playlist on loop.

She ran a hand through her bed hair, trying to tame the mess into something less beast-like, then slid carefully off the mattress so as not to wake Grim, who remained curled up in a ball beside her pillow, snoring softly.

Just as her bare feet touched the wooden floor, a faint rustling noise caught her attention. Her ears perked up instinctively. She turned her head toward the source of the sound and there they were.

The trio of ghosts from last night floated in the hallway, peeking around the corner like mischievous children caught red-handed.

They stared at her.

She stared at them.

A long silence stretched between them as both sides froze like startled deer.

Yue blinked slowly, expression flat. The ghosts looked equally confused to see her awake so early, their transparent forms practically vibrating with mischief that hadn’t had the chance to be unleashed.

“Well,” Yue exhaled, dragging a hand down her face, “this is exactly the kind of morning I was hoping to avoid.”

The ghosts flinched slightly but didn’t move.

Yue crossed her arms, voice dry but calm. “Look. I’m too tired for hauntings or high-stakes hide-and-seek, alright? Let’s not start our morning with a chase. And, as you probably heard from the Headmaster’s very generous announcement yesterday, me and that brat over there-” she jerked a thumb at the snoring Grim, “are living here now. Whether you like it or not.”

The ghosts exchanged glances, their earlier enthusiasm for pranks dampened by her unexpected directness. It clearly wasn’t the reaction they were hoping for.

Yue stepped away from her bed and made her way down the creaky stairs, not bothering to glance back. The three ghosts followed her hesitantly, like scolded puppies unsure if they were still in trouble or not.

She reached the lobby and came to a stop in front of a medium-sized box resting in the middle of the room. Scribbled hastily across the top in Crowley’s elegant but hurried script were the words: “Necessities for 2 Weeks.”

Yue raised a brow and smirked. Well, well. Looks like Crowley can be productive when his pride is on the line.

“Guess the threat of me marching back into his office did wonders for his motivation,” she muttered with amusement as she crouched to open the box.

Behind her, the ghosts hovered awkwardly.

“You’re a weird kid,” the ghost with the normal build finally muttered after a long pause.

Yue glanced back at them, a playful glint in her eyes as she pulled out a stack of folded blankets. “You’re not the first to say that.”

“We thought you’d try to kick us out,” the chubby ghost said, blinking.

“Yeah,” added the skinny one, arms crossed. “After what happened last night, we thought you’d be screaming for an exorcist or something.”

Yue paused, then stood up fully, holding a can of beans in one hand and a mismatched pair of socks in the other. “And what would that accomplish?” she asked with a shrug. “You’re ghosts. You’re already dead. What am I gonna do, throw salt and hopes at you?”

The ghosts blinked again.

She smiled faintly, a bit more genuine this time. “Besides… if we’re all stuck in this run-down dorm together, might as well figure out how not to kill-” she caught herself, “or haunt each other in the process.”

A long silence followed. Then, slowly, the normal ghost chuckled. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine, kid.”

“Yeah, you’re alright,” the chubby one nodded.

The skinny ghost didn’t say anything, but his grin betrayed his agreement.

Yue turned back to the box and exhaled quietly, pulling out a cracked toothbrush and a bar of soap that looked like it’d been through a war. It’s not much… but it’s a start.

“Also,” she added over her shoulder, voice cool, “you three are going to help fix the leak in the roof. Consider it rent.”

Three ghostly groans echoed behind her, followed by the soft sound of reluctant agreement.

Yue smirked as she pulled out the rest of the supplies.

Welcome home, she thought wryly.

Yue continued rummaging through the box, sorting its humble contents into neat piles on the dusty floor. There were a few essentials: soap, a couple of toothbrushes, packs of instant food, threadbare towels, and what looked like expired shampoo. It’s something, she thought with a sigh. Crowley’s version of ‘necessities’ clearly doesn’t include dignity.

As she pulled out a small stack of mismatched dishes, she glanced at the trio of ghosts still floating nearby, watching her cautiously like kids expecting to be scolded.

“Why would I kick you out?” she said, not bothering to look up. “This is your place too, right? You've been here longer than I have.” She set a chipped mug on the windowsill and finally turned toward them. Her tone softened slightly, just enough to show she meant it. “Fighting’s exhausting. And frankly, I’ve got enough weird to deal with right now.”

The ghosts blinked in surprise.

“So how about we start fresh?” Yue dusted off her hands and stood straight. “My name is Yue. But if that’s hard to pronounce, just call me Yuu. Most people do.”

She didn’t reveal her full name as she remember her shisho’s word. "If you give someone your name, they can take your soul. If you give them your birthday, they can control your life."

There was a moment of silence before the normal ghost gave her a slow nod. “I guess you’ve got a point,” he said, scratching the back of his translucent head. “Name’s Ben.”

The skinny ghost raised his hand with a slight grin. “Billy.”

The chubby ghost offered a solemn nod. “Bobby.”

Yue nodded back at each of them, committing the names to memory. Ben, Billy, and Bobby. The spectral trouble trio. She could already feel the headaches stacking up, but there was something oddly comforting about their presence now that they weren’t trying to throw her suitcase out the window.

She grabbed a can of beans and shook it gently. “Also,” she added casually, “I don’t mind if you prank some of the other students. Or Grim.”

The ghosts perked up at that, their faces lighting up with gleeful curiosity.

“Especially the annoying ones,” Yue added, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’ll know them when you see them. Loud, cocky, always acting like they're the main character of the universe.”

Ben laughed. “That describes 80% the school.”

“Exactly,” she said, popping the box lid back on with a satisfying thud. Then she raised a finger, her smile shifting into something more serious. “But tone it down when it comes to Grim. He’s a brat, yeah, but... well, I’m the one stuck handling him. Cleaning up his messes, stopping him from biting people, making sure he doesn’t set fire to the curtains again.”

Bobby made a guilty sound. “That was funny though.”

“It was also nearly my hair,” Yue deadpanned.

The trio chuckled sheepishly.

Yue rubbed the bridge of her nose with a sigh but couldn’t suppress the faint grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Despite everything, there was a strange sense of camaraderie growing between them, like reluctant allies in a shared state of disrepair.

“Alright then,” she said, walking over to the window and opening it to let the morning breeze cut through the dorm’s stale air. “New rules: You prank, you clean. You float through walls, don’t peek in the bathroom. And if you’re going to haunt something, make sure it’s not my bed.”

“Deal,” the three chorused, surprisingly in sync.

Yue smiled to herself as she turned back toward the box and started planning where to store things. Okay... maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.

Of course, she hadn’t seen what breakfast at Night Raven College looked like yet.

But that was a problem for future Yue.

Ben grin widely at her “I like you already kid!”

Yue grinned and shot Ben a playful wink. “It’s part of my irresistible charm,” she said lightly, gathering the remaining supplies from the box and moving around the dusty lobby with practiced efficiency. Each item found its place — towels neatly folded, canned goods tucked away on a half-broken shelf, toiletries balanced precariously near the sink.

She scooped up a bar of soap and a faded janitor's uniform, eyeing the patched elbows and faint bleach stains. Well, it’s not glamorous, but it’s clean. Probably. With her arms full, she made her way toward the bathroom, passing the trio of ghosts as they drifted ever closer to Grim’s unsuspecting, snoring form.

She glanced at the furball, mouth wide open in blissful slumber. “Poor guy,” she muttered with a smirk. “He has no idea what’s coming.”

The ghosts snickered ominously behind her.

Once inside the bathroom, she closed the door with a gentle click, letting out a sigh. The water pipes creaked in protest as she turned the handle, and steam began to slowly fill the cramped space.

Outside, in the quiet dorm lobby, Grim shifted in his sleep, mumbling in a high-pitched dream voice, “Mmm... nngh... Five more minutes, Ma…”

Billy leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Hee hee hee… Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the school today?”

Ben loomed just above Grim’s face, voice low and eerie. “Go ahead, sleep the day away... You might not eeever hafta wake up again.”

Bobby added with a booming laugh, “Just like us! Ah ha ha ha ha!”

Grim’s eyes snapped open, his fur fluffing in all directions. “Myah?! The ghosts are back! YUU! Get up, we’re under attack!”

A muffled voice came from the bathroom. Grim’s ears twitched as he strained to make it out.

“…You’re on your own, Grim,” Yue’s voice echoed through the door, tinged with amusement and zero urgency.

Grim stared at the closed door in horror, betrayal written all over his fuzzy face. “Y-Yuu?! I thought we were a team!”

The bathroom door creaked open just a sliver. Yue poked her head out, her hair wrapped in a towel turban, one brow raised. “Guys, that’s enough. We had a deal, remember? Scare him, not traumatize him.”

Bobby floated in a circle with glee. “But his reaction was priceless!”

“Exactly!” Ben grinned. “Gold-star scream.”

“Five stars,” Billy added with a cheeky salute.

Grim glared at all of them, his tail puffed up like a bottlebrush. “WHAT deal?! Why am I not in this so-called deal?!”

“You were too busy snoring through it,” Ben said with a shrug.

Billy snorted. “You sleep like the dead. No offense.”

“Lots of offense,” Grim grumbled.

Floating upside down now, Bobby gave Grim a poke on the nose. “So I hear you two will be living here from now on, huh? Hope you like pranks as much as we do~ Hya ha ha!”

Grim’s fur bristled. “We gotta get rid of these things for good! They’re a menace!”

Back inside the bathroom, Yue’s voice called out again, calm and dry, “Too late. We’re roommates now. Get used to it.”

Grim slumped to the floor with a groan, his ears drooping. “Mwahh... I didn’t sign up for a haunted dorm life…”

Yue chuckled softly to herself as she resumed scrubbing away yesterday’s exhaustion. Despite the chaos, despite the absurdity of it all… something about this weird, cobbled-together crew of ghosts and gremlins was starting to feel oddly comforting.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Yue stepped out in her freshly donned janitor uniform, a slightly oversized navy-blue outfit complete with mismatched buttons and suspicious stains she chose not to question. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing the dark, winding thorn-branch tattoos that curled around both her wrists like inked manacles. She didn't bother hiding them; if anything, they added to her don't-mess-with-me vibe. The collar sat slightly askew no matter how much she adjusted it, but she wore it with quiet confidence, mismatched or not, she owned the look.

“Grim,” she called as she adjusted the waistband and smoothed her hair down into a loose, low ponytail. “Go wash up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and you smell like lint and regret.”

The feline demon groaned, dragging his paws across the floor with dramatic flair. “Why do I have to do anything? I’m not a janitor!”

“You will be if you want to eat tonight,” she said without missing a beat, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her face.

“Fiiiine,” Grim grumbled, trudging toward the bathroom like a condemned man.

Yue rolled her eyes. And he insists he’s not a cat, she mused with a shake of her head. He sulked just like one, tail twitching in defiance, every step an exaggerated protest.

As she made her way downstairs, Bobby floated alongside her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, well! Now you really look like a proper little janitor,” he said, eyeing her from head to toe with exaggerated approval.

Yue merely shrugged, her expression unfazed. “Gotta do what you gotta do to survive in this world, Bobby. Uniform or not.” She descended the last few steps into the dusty old kitchen, scanning the counter with a faint sigh. Let’s see if this haunted shack has anything drinkable.

She rifled through the “necessities” box Crowley had left behind, lifting up a few suspicious-looking bags labeled as “tea” in faded handwriting. She popped one open and gave it a cautious sniff, immediately wrinkling her nose. “Definitely low-grade. Smells like it came from a clearance bin.”

Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Yue filled the battered kettle with water and set it on the rickety stovetop. It groaned and wheezed but didn’t explode, so she considered that a small victory. While the tea brewed, the ghosts began to drift lazily toward the ceiling, yawning exaggeratedly.

“We’ll be off now,” Ben said, already phasing halfway into the wall. “Places to haunt, mischief to plan.”

“Try not to burn the place down while we’re gone~” Billy added with a wink.

“Bye Yuuuu~!” Bobby chimed with a grin before the trio vanished through the crumbling rafters, leaving only a faint chill in their wake.

With the room finally quiet, Yue poured herself a cup of the questionable tea and took a tentative sip from the chipped mug. It was bitter, earthy, and vaguely tasted like cardboard. She stared down at it blankly. “Yep… This is sadness in liquid form,” she muttered, but she took another sip anyway. It was hot, and that was good enough.

Moments later, Grim shuffled down the stairs, still damp and sulking, but marginally cleaner than before. He perked up instantly upon spotting a stack of cans by the box.

“TUNA!” he shouted triumphantly, diving toward them as if they might disappear if he hesitated a second longer.

Yue raised her mug in greeting. “Morning to you, too.”

Grim was already halfway through clawing open one of the cans with his teeth. “Mff… at least Crowley got something right.”

Yue leaned against the counter, sipping her tea and watching the chaos unfold in calm detachment. Despite the shabby surroundings, spectral roommates, and a day of mopping mystery stains ahead of her, she felt… oddly grounded.

Sure, she’d been isekai’d into a world of magic, monsters, and mismanagement, but for now, there was tea. There was food. And there was Grim, annoying, loud, occasionally flammable Grim.

She could handle this.

Maybe.

Just as Yue took another sip from the chipped mug, a sudden gust of wind stirred the dusty curtains. The recently repaired window, secured with all the confidence of a band-aid on a cracked dam, slammed open with a dramatic bang. Morning light spilled into the room, catching on swirling particles of dust and the flutter of a dark cloak.

There, half-dangling through the window frame like some overexcited theatre actor, was none other than Headmaster Crowley. His cloak flared dramatically in the breeze, gold embroidery glinting like sunlit stars. With one arm extended in a sweeping flourish and his mask catching the light just right, he looked like he was trying to strike a heroic pose straight out of a fantasy novel cover.

Or at least, that was probably the effect he hoped he was giving off.

“Good morniiiing, Yuu!” he practically sang, his voice too chipper for the hour. “I’ve brought breakfast! As promised in our very reasonable agreement!” He held up a basket that was far too neatly wrapped for someone who just stormed in through a window.

Yue blinked slowly, lips pressing into a line over her tea. She lowered the cup and stared at him, unamused. There was no alarm, no shout, just the silent, simmering resignation of someone who’d already accepted that today was going to test her patience.

“It’s too early for this kind of nonsense,” she muttered flatly, rubbing at her temple with one hand while the other loosely cradled her mug.

Crowley either didn’t hear her or chose not to acknowledge it. “Did you sleep well? I trust the haunted ambiance of Ramshackle was not too unsettling?” he asked cheerfully, as if breaking and entering via window was standard procedure.

Yue raised a brow, sipping her tea again before answering. “I’ve slept in dungeons and cursed shrines before. Your haunted dorm barely makes the list.”

Grim, who had just located a can of tuna among the boxed supplies, peeked out from behind the kitchen door. “He broke the window again, didn’t he?” he mumbled around the rim of the can, tail flicking in irritation.

Yue didn’t even bother responding, just gave Grim a sideways glance that said you already know the answer.

Crowley, still halfway through the window like an oversized bat, chuckled. “No need to look so sour, dear Yuu. Think of it as my signature entrance! Memorable, no?”

“If you don’t want to become a memorable cautionary tale, I suggest you use the door next time,” Yue said, deadpan. “You do know how doors work, right?”

She stood, her janitor uniform shifting with the movement. The sleeves were still rolled up to her elbows, showing off the thorn branch tattoos curling around her wrists like dark vines. Crowley’s eyes flicked to them for the briefest moment, but whether it was recognition or curiosity, Yue couldn’t tell. Not that she cared. Let him wonder.

He cleared his throat and stepped fully into the room, finally deciding to use his legs like a normal person. “Well! No time for dawdling. Breakfast now, chores later. I have a marvelous cleaning schedule all planned out for you and our dear Grimmy!”

Grim immediately choked on air. “What cleaning schedule?!”

Yue sighed again and took the breakfast basket from Crowley without a word. “Let’s just eat before the next absurdity finds us,” she said, already turning to head back to the kitchen. She muttered under her breath, “At this rate, I’m gonna need stronger tea.”

Crowley, as expected, brushed off her dry sarcasm with the finesse of a man completely immune to shame. Straightening his posture and brushing imaginary dust from his ornate cloak, he continued, “Now, as for today’s assignment, your job is to clean the campus grounds. Thoroughly.”

Yue didn’t respond immediately. She merely sipped her tea with a blank stare that made it abundantly clear how unimpressed she was.

“That said,” Crowley went on, waving a hand dramatically, “the campus is rather vast, and considering your unfortunate lack of magic, I won’t task you with cleaning all of it. Even I’m not so heartless.” He paused, clearly waiting for praise that didn’t come. “So, you’ll focus your efforts on the area from the front gates to the library. I trust this is manageable?”

“Sure,” Yue said, setting the mug down and folding her arms. “And do you want me to rearrange the stars while I’m at it, or just mop them?”

Ignoring the jab, Crowley pressed on, “I do, however, expect you to keep a close eye on Grim. I would prefer not to have another flaming broom incident like yesterday.”

Yue arched a brow, her expression unreadable for a beat. Then, with casual honesty, she said, “I can’t promise he won’t cause trouble. But if you dangle a few tuna cans in front of him, he’ll probably cooperate.”

Grim, who had been licking the last of the tuna juice from the can, froze. “Hey! I ain’t that easy to bribe!” he protested, though his twitching tail betrayed his interest.

Crowley seemed satisfied enough, nodding once. “Very well. Do not fail me, Miss Yuu. And as a token of mercy, you may take your lunch in the cafeteria. I eagerly await the fruits of your labor. Sparkling floors! Gleaming banisters! A spotless welcome to all prospective students!”

Grim huffed, puffing out his furry chest. “Hrmph! I ain’t cleanin’ nothin’! I came here to learn magic, not scrub floors! I wanna be slingin’ spells like BAM! POW! FWOOM!” He swung his stubby paws dramatically, narrowly missing a lamp.

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose and turned toward the door. “Let’s just head to the front gate for now,” she said flatly. “We’ll clean what we can, then maybe check out the library afterward, if we survive.”

Grim trailed behind her, grumbling something about his dignity.

Just as she reached for the door handle, Yue paused, her voice suddenly sweet. “Oh, Headmaster?”

Crowley, already halfway through making his second dramatic exit, perked up at the sound of her saccharine tone. “Yes, Yuu?” he asked hopefully, chest puffed like a proud peacock.

Yue turned slightly, still smiling, but there was a sharp glint in her half-lidded eyes. Her tone never changed, still gentle, still honeyed, but her presence suddenly felt like the room had dropped a few degrees. She pointed behind her, to the broken window Crowley had so gracefully crashed through.

“Before I return, you will fix the window,” she said softly. “Correct?”

Crowley blinked, confused by the dissonance between her voice and the silent threat radiating off her. “I-I beg your pardon, what-?”

Her smile widened, just a touch too much. “I said-” her voice dropped into clarity like the snap of a blade leaving its sheath, “Do. You. Understand?”

There was no mistaking the warning in her words now.

Crowley deflated instantly, shoulders slumping under the invisible weight of that smile. He looked very much like a scolded child who had been caught doodling on the headmaster’s office walls.

“…Yes,” he mumbled in defeat, head hanging.

Yue’s smile returned to a more natural shape as she turned away. “Good.”

Without waiting for a reply, she pushed open the front door, the light of morning washing over her and Grim as they stepped out.

"Wow…"

Grim's mouth fell open as he stumbled to a halt, eyes wide with awe.

Main Street stretched before them like something out of a grand old tale. Paved with smooth, dark stone and framed by intricate wrought-iron lamps, the avenue climbed steadily uphill, leading the eye toward a towering school building that loomed in the distance. Its many spires and sharp angles were blurred slightly by a soft veil of morning mist, giving the entire scene an almost otherworldly glow.

Lining the path were towering statues, seven in total, each one carved with meticulous detail. Four stood proudly on the left side, three on the right. Their regal poses commanded attention, as if even in silence, they spoke volumes about power, ambition, and legacy. The cool morning light danced across the edges of their marble forms, highlighting the flowing lines of their cloaks, the stern set of their mouths, the confident tilt of their heads.

It was clear these figures weren’t meant to inspire fear, they were meant to inspire admiration.

"This place is amazing!" Grim blurted, tail puffed up with excitement as he spun in a slow circle to take it all in.

Yue came to a slow stop beside him, raising a hand to shield her eyes against the pale sun. She drew in a deep breath, the air cool and sharp in her lungs. Despite the grandeur, an odd tension twisted in her chest, not fear exactly, but something like... expectation.

"So, this is Main Street," she murmured, her voice quiet in the vastness around them.

Her gaze lingered on the statues, tracing each proud, frozen figure. They towered like silent guardians over the street, standing with a dignity that suggested they were not merely commemorated here, they were revered. It wasn’t the sort of reverence born from gentle admiration either. It was heavier, edged with ambition and a silent challenge: Aspire to greatness... or be forgotten.

"There sure are a lot of statues, huh?" Yue added, though the words felt small against the sheer scale of everything.

She couldn’t help but wonder about the kind of school that chose these kinds of figures to line its entrance. There was no sugarcoating, no statues of smiling heroes or saints. No, these statues radiated strength, cunning, and an unapologetic thirst for power.

Are these really the people they expect us to look up to? Yue thought, a faint wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was certainly a far cry from the fairy tales she grew up with, the ones where the heroes were humble, selfless, and kind.

And yet... part of her couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something magnetic about it. Something daring.

"Not exactly the warmest welcome," she muttered under her breath, amusement flickering in her eyes. "But... I guess subtlety isn’t their thing."

Grim, oblivious to her internal debate, had already scampered ahead a few steps, craning his neck to get a better look at one of the statues.

Yue lingered a moment longer, letting herself soak it all in, the quiet majesty of the street, the unspoken promise that echoed off the stones: Greatness waits for those who dare to take it.

Grim padded along Main Street with his head craned back, still gawking at the towering statues. His ears twitched nervously as he glanced from one stern face to another.

"I didn't get a good look at these yesterday," he muttered, fur puffing up slightly. "What's the deal with these seven statues? All their faces look pretty scary. Like-" He pointed a paw up at one figure on the right side, "this lady here? She looks like she's got some reeeal anger issues."

"Don't know the Queen of Hearts, huh?" a voice drawled from behind them.

Yue turned, lowering her hand from her brow just in time to see a boy saunter up casually. His red hair was tousled, and the smirk on his face suggested he found the whole situation endlessly amusing. He wore the same school uniform she’d seen on a few others, black with red accents but somehow, he managed to look like he was already in the middle of getting into trouble.

Grim blinked at the newcomer. "Queen of Hearts? Is she some kinda big deal?"

The boy Ace, if Yue caught the stitched-on name tag right, shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

"She was the queen, ages ago," he said, jerking a thumb toward the statue. "Lived in this crazy maze of roses. She was obsessed with order. Like, if a single rose was the wrong color or her card soldiers stepped outta line?" He gave a sharp, slicing motion across his neck. "Off with their heads. No second chances."

Grim fluffed up even more, his tail shooting straight up. "Wah! That’s seriously messed up!"

Yue stepped a little closer to the statue, letting her gaze really study it for the first time.

The Queen of Hearts stood regal and imperious, her chin tilted high, one hand clutching a heart-shaped scepter like a weapon rather than a symbol of rule. Her robes fanned around her like a storm, intricate carvings suggesting layers of velvet and brocade, and her expression... Well, Yue had seen storms that looked more forgiving.

The sheer authority the statue radiated was palpable, and frankly, a little unnerving.

Beheadings for petty mistakes? Yue thought dryly, tilting her head. That sounds less like "strict" and more like "full-blown tyrant."

"Pretty cool, right?" Ace said, grinning like he couldn’t wait to see their reactions. "I'm a big fan. I mean, who would even bother obeying a queen who was all sweet and gentle all the time?"

Yue lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. She crossed her arms loosely, the morning breeze tugging at a few strands of her hair.

"Kindness isn't weakness," she said under her breath, almost to herself, but loud enough for Grim to hear.

Ace either didn’t catch it or didn’t care, because he was already strolling ahead toward the next statue, hands swinging loosely at his sides.

Yue lingered for a moment longer, studying the sharp lines of the Queen’s face.

There was something to admire about unshakable authority, sure. But power without compassion? That was just fear wearing a crown.

She turned on her heel to follow Grim and Ace, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. If this is the kind of person they celebrate here, I better keep my head on straight, literally.

Yue narrowed her silver eyes, studying the newcomer with quiet suspicion. The boy, Ace, had a teasing glint in his eye, the kind of look she'd seen before, the kind that usually spelled nothing but trouble.

Grim, oblivious to Yue’s wary stare, puffed out his chest. "Yeah, true. A leader's gotta be strong," he agreed sagely, nodding toward the imposing statue. Then his ears flicked toward Ace, and he squinted up at him. "But, puttin' that aside... who're you, exactly?"

Ace grinned, unfazed. "Name's Ace. Ace Trappola. I'm a first-year student here, as of... today!" He gave a casual little wave. "Pleased to meetcha."

Grim, ever eager to brag, introduced himself with a dramatic flourish of his paw. "I'm Grim! Future greatest mage to ever walk this earth! And that over there-" he jerked a thumb at Yue, "-is Yuu, my far less-interestin' hench-human."

Yue lifted an eyebrow at Grim’s declaration, though a faint smile betrayed her amusement. She stepped forward, brushing a few strands of hair from her face as she took Ace's outstretched hand.

"Henchman, am I?" she said lightly, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. "When did I ever agree to that, Grim?"

Her grip was firm as she shook Ace’s hand, giving him a look that suggested she wasn't someone to underestimate.

"Nice to meet you, Ace," she said, voice smooth but steady.

Ace chuckled, seeming a little taken aback. His gaze swept over her, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Yuu, huh? That’s a pretty foreign-sounding name if I’ve ever heard one."

Yue simply shrugged, unbothered. She’d gotten that a lot lately. It wasn't like she fit neatly into any of the boxes this strange world had.

Before Ace could prod further, Grim piped up, his paw waving excitedly toward another statue towering along the street.

"So, tell me, Ace," Grim said, his voice echoing a little off the stone-lined avenue, "that lion with the scar on his eye, is he a famous ruler too?"

Ace followed Grim’s pointing paw and nodded. "Of course!" he said, flashing a grin. "That's the King of Beasts. He ruled the savanna. But he wasn’t born into it, he had to earn the throne. Blood, sweat, and a whole lotta scheming." His voice dropped a little, almost reverent. "When he finally became king, he changed everything. Declared the hyenas, who were always treated like trash, would live among the lions as equals."

Intrigued, Yue shifted her attention to the statue Grim had mentioned.

The King of Beasts was captured standing proudly on a cliff, head held high, muscles taut with strength and authority. A long scar carved a path over one eye, a testament to the battles he had fought and survived. His stone mane seemed almost to ripple in a phantom breeze, and a solemn, heavy dignity radiated from his stance, setting him apart from the other statues.

Yue's fingers absently brushed her chin as she studied it.
Not born into power... but fought for it.
There was something almost noble about that, choosing to build a kingdom not just for himself, but for those forgotten and cast aside.

It was a different kind of strength from the Queen of Hearts' cold rule. This was the kind of leadership Yue could respect, earned, not demanded.

Still, her brow furrowed slightly. She knew well enough that lofty ideals didn’t always play out perfectly in reality.

"Changing old systems isn't as easy as making a royal decree," Yue murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

Ace caught her words and tilted his head slightly, his smirk sharpening in curiosity, but he said nothing, for now.

Grim, meanwhile, was already bouncing on his paws, eyes wide. "Man, that’s awesome! Maybe I should be a king too!"

Yue chuckled softly, finally relaxing a little as they continued up the mist-shrouded street, the looming figures of legends past watching silently from their pedestals.

Grim tilted his head, eyes flicking from one statue to the next as he tapped a clawed paw against his chin. “Sounds like a great guy! Not everyone’s able to look past social status like that.” He paused, then blinked and pointed a paw toward the next figure. “Hey, what about the lady with the octopus legs? She looks like she means serious business.”

Yue followed his gaze and took in the imposing statue of the Sea Witch. With her wide, confident stance and curling tentacles coiled beneath her, she gave off an aura of power that seeped through the stone itself. Her eyes were sharp, half-lidded in a knowing expression, and a wicked smirk curled her lips, as if she already knew your deepest secrets and your price for keeping them hidden.

Ace grinned, crossing his arms with a shrug. “That’s the Sea Witch. She used to live in a grotto deep beneath the sea. Word is, she dedicated her life to helping merfolk in need, changing their appearances, helping them find love, whatever their little hearts desired.”

Yue arched a brow slightly. That didn’t sound like help so much as a business transaction. She could already sense there was more to the story.

“But,” Ace continued with a sly edge to his voice, “nothing’s free, right? They say her deals always came with a steep price. But she was basically the underwater wish-granter. You wanted something badly enough, she made it happen.”

But as Yue’s gaze lingered on the statue, a thought crossed her mind. Something about the Sea Witch’s title reminded her of a figure from her past. "It’s like the Witch of Wishes," she murmured, almost to herself, the name slipping out with a sense of distant familiarity. In her own world, the “Witch of Wishes” had once held a similar title, a blend of legend and respect, granted to someone who’d offer aid but only at a price.

Ace raised an eyebrow, intrigued but content to let it slide, while Grim’s ears flicked at her words. Grim’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Myaha! So what you're sayin’ is, once I’m a great mage, I could get rich granting wishes too?! Just gotta charge ‘em an arm and a leg, huh?” He laughed, tail swishing. “Oh, oh! Do the dude with the big hat next!”

Yue’s gaze drifted toward the next statue. Tall, lean, and cloaked in flowing robes, the figure stood with an imposing air. He’s holding a long, curved staff with cobra head on top, and his turban was adorned with a feather that looked as if it could catch the wind at any moment. A calculating gleam was carved into his narrowed eyes, and his mouth was set in a smug, self-assured smirk.

Ace didn’t even need to look to know who Grim meant. “Ah, that’s the Sorcerer of the Sands. Sharp guy, he was the advisor to a sultan who, uh… let’s just say, wasn’t exactly known for his brains. He kept the kingdom from falling apart most days. One time, he even exposed a fake prince who tried to scam his way into marrying the princess.”

Grim nodded enthusiastically. “So he’s a good guy?”

Ace smirked. “Depends on who you ask. See, after that whole mess, the Sorcerer got his hands on a magic lamp, and boom! Next thing anyone knew, he was the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Then he crowned himself sultan. Can’t say he lacked ambition.”

Yue observed their back-and-forth silently, content to listen for now. Her silver eyes lingered on the statue, the so-called Sorcerer of the Sands. There was something coldly admirable in his expression, confidence shaped into stone, ambition worn like a crown. Still, something in his posture felt… hollow. As if even in this moment of triumph, he was still reaching for something more.

She let her gaze shift back to Ace, who hadn’t quite stopped throwing her glances every so often, his smirk never quite fading. She caught the teasing glint in his eyes, that half-challenge, half-joke expression she’d seen plenty of times before in people who thought they had her figured out at a glance.

Yue didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, pretending not to notice the amusement dancing in his features. Let him laugh. If he wanted to play, she could play too.

Besides… information was far more valuable than pride.

Grim’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as he bounced toward the next statue. “Wow! Guess it’s true that a mage needs to be an excellent judge of character, huh?” he said, tail flicking excitedly. Then he gasped, spinning on his heel to gesture dramatically. “And what about this beauty over here?”

Yue turned her attention to the new figure, a regal woman cast in flawless stone, standing proud and elegant. Her crown rested like a halo above her sleek, sculpted hair, and her flowing robes clung to a form that practically radiated authority and allure. Even frozen in time, there was a sharpness to her beauty, like the edge of a perfectly honed dagger.

Ace whistled lowly as he ambled over. “Ah, her? She’s the queen who was said to be the fairest of them all.” He leaned casually against a low pedestal, arms crossed. “Apparently, she checked her magic mirror every single day to make sure no one had stolen her top spot. If she caught even a whiff of someone outshining her, well... she didn’t exactly take it lying down.”

Yue narrowed her eyes slightly, lips twitching into a faint, wry smile. She could already imagine the type, ruthless, proud, and unwilling to let fate dictate her worth. There was something admirable about that, even if the methods were questionable.

Ace chuckled. “Gotta respect that kind of dedication, honestly. Also, rumor says she was a genius at brewing poisons. If you needed something ‘handled,’ she was your gal.”

Grim shuddered, edging slightly behind Yue. “Geez! She’s pretty, but that’s kinda scary…”

Ace just laughed, unbothered. “Scary, sure. But you can’t deny, she had drive.”

Yue had to agree, at least inwardly. In a world that chewed up the complacent, ambition was a survival tool. Beauty, too, was a weapon, if you knew how to wield it. Credit where it’s due, Yue mused, folding her arms loosely as she studied the queen’s cold, imperious gaze. She knew how to fight her battles and win, even if it cost her soul.

Grim, meanwhile, fidgeted with his scarf, casting another uneasy glance at the statues. “F-for sure... She fought hard for what she believed in and never gave up, huh? That’s, uh, admirable... I guess.” His eyes darted to another figure nearby, and his ears flattened slightly. “A-and what about the guy with the flaming head?! Now that guy looks seriously scary!”

Following his gaze, Yue spotted the next statue immediately. This one was striking, wild. The figure’s hair was a mass of flickering stone flames, mouth curled into a feral grin, and his long robes billowed around him as if caught in an unseen wind. Power practically oozed from his carved form, as natural to him as breathing.

Ace grinned, his tone becoming more animated. “Oh, that’s the King of the Underworld!”

Grim blinked, visibly startled. “Wha– the Underworld?!”

“Yup,” Ace said with a nod. “Ruling an entire kingdom filled with restless, unruly spirits? That’s no small job. And he didn’t even want it. They say it was basically dumped on him, but he still ran the whole show, efficiently, too. Real straight shooter, didn’t have time for sugarcoating.”

He jabbed a thumb at the statue’s flaming head. “He’s the one who ordered Cerberus to guard the gates, led the Hydra into battle, and even commanded the Titans themselves when push came to shove. Scary-looking? Sure. But hardworking? Absolutely.”

Yue regarded the statue thoughtfully. The fierce energy, the defiant grin, there was a strange kind of freedom in it. Unapologetically himself, she thought. He didn’t pretend to be a hero or a villain. He just did what needed doing.

The more she heard about these so-called villains, the more Yue felt a flicker of reluctant admiration. None of them had been passive about their fates. They fought, they clawed, they seized what they believed they deserved.

And in her own quiet way, Yue understood that kind of determination all too well.

Grim bobbed thoughtfully on his paws, tapping his chin with a claw. "Hmm. That IS something. T’think he had that much power and didn’t let it go to his head!” he said, genuinely impressed. Then, with a flick of his ears, he pointed toward the last statue at the end of the row. “And what about that one there, the one with the horns?"

Yue turned her head, already feeling the weight of the next figure's presence before she even fully looked. The last statue towered above the others, its silhouette framed by sprawling, sculpted horns. The figure stood proud and regal, robes flowing like shadow, an air of commanding dignity frozen forever in stone.

Ace’s tone shifted into something almost reverent as he approached the final monument. “That’s the Thorn Fairy who lived atop a mythical mountain,” he said, voice lowering slightly as if the mere memory deserved a certain respect. “She was noble, elegant, and terrifyingly powerful. Even among the Great Seven, her magic stood apart, storms, curses, thorns... She could conjure disasters that covered entire kingdoms in a heartbeat.”

He paused, flashing a grin. “And get this, she could even transform herself into a giant dragon.”

Grim practically vibrated with excitement. “Ooooh! A dragon! The monster every monster dreams of being! To reach the power of a dragon... the ultimate goal!” His tail wagged furiously behind him, little sparks of admiration practically flying from his fur.

Yue remained quiet, absorbing every word. Her silver eyes stayed fixed on the Thorn Fairy’s statue, reading the plaque at the base with careful interest. Powerful. Elegant. Fearsome. The fairy’s name alone seemed to carry a gravity all its own, like a whispered legend that never truly faded.

She felt a strange kinship stirring in her chest. Noble but feared. Cursed to be seen as the villain simply because she didn’t bow to anyone else’s will. Yue couldn't help but wonder, how many stories had been twisted by those too weak to understand the ones who refused to kneel?

Ace, seemingly energized by their reactions, swept his arm wide in a grand, theatrical motion, as though he were a master of ceremonies unveiling a priceless treasure. "And there you have it! The Great Seven. The most legendary, powerful figures in history. So important, they even got their statues lined up along the main road leading right to the school, smack in the middle of campus. Pretty impressive, huh?"

Yue’s gaze slowly panned across the statues once more, the queen, the sea witch, the sorcerer, the king of the underworld, and now the Thorn Fairy. Each figure was carved with care, their likenesses captured in cold stone, yet still vibrant with the echoes of their defiance and ambition.

Her eyes lingered a moment longer on the carved names beneath each figure, fingertips brushing absentmindedly over the faintly weathered text. The Great Seven... Why seven, specifically? There had to be meaning behind the number. Is it symbolic? Or were they simply the most infamous survivors of history’s judgment?

Yue tucked the thought away for later, the beginnings of a private theory already forming.

A sudden, mocking lilt in Ace’s voice dragged her back to the present.

“They’re awesome, unlike a certain little tanuki,” he added with a wicked smirk, casting a side-eyed glance at Grim.

“—?!” Grim flinched like he’d been struck by lightning, his round eyes bulging with disbelief as he turned on Ace, spluttering in outrage.

Yue exhaled slowly through her nose, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh of exasperation. I knew it, she thought, not even bothering to mask her faint annoyance. Couldn’t let the moment stay serious for long, could you?

Still, she held her tongue, merely giving Ace a sidelong glance of dry amusement, as if silently chastising him without saying a word. It was too early to pick fights, and besides, Grim could handle his own squabbles well enough.

Ace finally cracked.
“Pfft… Aha—aha ha ha ha ha ha!" He doubled over, laughter spilling out in loud, mocking waves. "I can't hold it back anymore! Ahaha ha ha!"

Grim bristled, his fur standing on end, but Ace barely spared him a glance. "C'mon, you two were the stars of the whole orientation fiasco, right?" he said, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye. "The one summoned by the Dark Mirror who can’t even use magic-" he jabbed a thumb toward Yue, "-and the little monster nobody summoned at all!" He howled with fresh laughter. "It took everything I had not to lose it right there at the ceremony!"

Grim growled low in his throat, his little paws balling into fists. "H-hey! You don't gotta be a jerk about it!" he barked, tail lashing.

Ace leaned back casually, arms behind his head, a smug grin plastered across his face. "So in the end, neither of you got admitted, huh? Now you’re stuck doing janitor work?" He whistled mockingly. "That's just so lame!"

Yue’s expression didn’t flicker. She merely exhaled a deep, tired sigh, the kind that spoke volumes without a single word. Honestly, she’d already pegged Ace as trouble the second he opened his mouth, there was a certain glint in his eyes, a tell-tale sharpness he hadn’t even tried to hide. His little "friendly tour guide" act had always felt flimsy. She hadn’t taken his bait, but Grim… well, Grim was another story.

Crossing her arms loosely over her chest, Yue raised a brow at Ace, the corners of her mouth flattening into a thin, unimpressed line. Her silver eyes, usually cool and reserved, flickered briefly with irritation. She had given him a chance, albeit a small one.
"...I was wondering when you’d finally drop the act,” she said coolly, voice smooth but edged, like a blade sheathed just enough to warn.

Grim gritted his teeth, his small body practically trembling with pent-up fury.

Ace simply shrugged, unbothered. "Anyway," he said, grinning wide, "just thought I'd swing by to have a little fun. Man, am I glad I did! Unlike you two, I actually have real classes to get to, y'know. So I’ll leave you to your important mission, what was it again? Oh, right! Picking up trash! Ahaha ha ha!"

With an exaggerated wave, Ace turned on his heel and sauntered off down the path, whistling a cheerful, mocking tune.

Yue opened her mouth, about to place a steadying hand on Grim’s shoulder and keep him from doing something foolish. Her instincts, honed from years of dealing with people who talked too much and thought too little, warned her it wasn’t worth reacting. Ignore him. He’s just trying to provoke you.

But Grim was already beyond reasoning.

"Myuh-uh! You ain't walkin' away from me!" he roared, claws sparking slightly with magic energy.
His voice cracked with rage as he charged forward, tiny paws swinging wildly. "It's too late for that!"
"MYAAAAAAH!"

Yue barely managed to suppress a groan, her hand freezing mid-air.
Oh no. Here we go...

“Whoa–!” Ace stumbled back a step as Grim lunged at him, teeth bared and flames flaring from his paws.

“No one makes fun of Grim, Master of Fire!” the little monster bellowed, eyes wild with outrage. “I’m gonna make that explodey-head of yours explode all over again!”

“Explodey-head?” Ace’s voice sharpened, his brow twitching. “You got a death wish, shorty? You really wanna go there? Talking about hair, huh? I oughta shave you like a toy poodle!”

“MYAAAAAH!!” Grim howled, flinging a fireball straight at Ace.

Yue remained motionless, arms folded and face blank with pure, undistilled apathy. She stared at them like someone watching two pigeons fight over breadcrumbs. A breath left her nose, flat, tired, unimpressed.

This again?

Ace, never one to let drama go to waste, smirked as he pulled something from his breast pocket. At first glance, it looked like a gem, glittering vividly in the sun. But upon closer inspection, it was set into the barrel of a slender, beautifully engraved fountain pen, a spellcaster's focus. It glimmered with stored magic as he spun it once between his fingers and pointed it toward Grim.

A pulse of wind magic burst from the tip, elegant but forceful.

“Try dodging this, furball!”

The sudden gust slammed into Grim’s next fireball, scattering it mid-air and sending embers fizzling uselessly into the sky.

“H-hey! His magic winds are blowin’ my fireballs away!” Grim screeched in protest, tail bristling. “That’s cheating!”

Yue dragged a hand down her face, resisting the urge to groan. Wasn’t even thirty seconds ago he said he was gonna explode Ace’s head. And now he’s crying foul?

She glanced at the sky for divine intervention that never came. The Headmaster told me to keep Grim out of trouble… There goes my allowance.

She looked up just as the flickering fireball skimmed past a statue’s base, dangerously close to the hem of the stone Thorn Queen’s carved robes.

Oh no. Please don’t let that hit the statue. Please don’t-

A puff of soot shot upward as the fireball detonated harmlessly against the cobblestone, leaving a scorch mark dangerously close to one of the Great Seven’s pedestals.

Yue’s fingers twitched.
I swear if they damage those statues…

A voice piped up behind her. “Whoa! What’s going on?”

She turned slightly, gaze flicking over her shoulder. A small crowd of uniformed students had begun gathering just behind her, drifting in from the Main Street. Most wore the Night Raven College uniform, crisp and pristine, but their expressions were anything but proper, wide-eyed, amused, and thoroughly entertained.

“Is this… a fight?” one student asked with barely hidden glee, jogging closer to get a better view. “On the first day?”

“Awesome,” someone else muttered, adjusting their tie. “Go for it!”

“Looks like yesterday’s monster… and a first-year?” another observed, squinting at Ace.

“If they’re gonna fight, they better make it good,” a student drawled from behind Yue, arms crossed, smirking like this was prime entertainment.

Yue glanced back at them, eyes narrowing slightly. Of course a fight would draw a crowd, she thought, annoyance pricking her like a splinter. And of course, they’re treating it like a circus.

She turned back to the squabbling duo, her expression sharpening. A muscle twitched in her jaw, her patience hanging by a thread. Grim’s ears were flattened, his tail flicking with fury, while Ace had completely abandoned any pretense of holding back, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

For a moment, Yue considered letting them tire each other out. Just for a moment.

“Awww, what’s the matter?” Ace taunted with a wide grin, casually twirling his spell pen between his fingers. “Can’t even land a hit with your little fireballs?”

Grim’s ears flattened in fury. “Grrrr… You better believe I’m about to! Take that!” he snarled, launching another fiery blast toward Ace with reckless abandon.

Ace scoffed, barely even bothered. “Pfft. Please. All it takes is a little gust and hah!” He flicked his pen, conjuring another burst of wind to knock Grim’s attack off course.

Only this time… something went very wrong.

The redirected fireball veered sharply, straight into the courtyard centerpiece: the ornate statue of the Queen of Hearts, standing proud and regal amidst the brick plaza.

A sickening hiss filled the air as flames licked up the marble base, leaving an angry black scorch mark.

Ace’s smirk dropped off his face like a rock. “Oh no. Now the Queen of Hearts’s statue looks like it’s been flame-broiled!”

Time seemed to slow.

Yue’s eyes widened slightly, her expression flattening into sheer disbelief as the horror unfolded before her.

…Ah. I jinxed it.

There was no other explanation. She knew she shouldn’t have thought it. She knew. Yet here they were: public property, torched. On the first day.

Grim, utterly lacking any sense of shame, pointed an accusatory paw at Ace. “That’s your fault for tryin’ to divert it! You shoulda just let it burn you to a crisp like it was s’posed to!”

Ace whirled around, spluttering indignantly. “Who in their right mind would ever do that?!” he barked. “Are you insane?!”

The rising noise of their squabble was abruptly cut short by a sharp, commanding voice slicing through the courtyard like a knife.

“What is the meaning of this? Cease this at once!”

Every head whipped toward the source, there stood Headmaster Crowley, resplendent in his feathered cloak, key shape cane raised imperiously.

Yue swore she felt the very air crackle with tension.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement, the crowd of students that had been eagerly egging on the fight moments ago now scattered like startled birds, fleeing in every direction to avoid being implicated. In mere seconds, the plaza was practically empty except for the guilty parties.

Ace’s face was drained of color. “Oh no. The Headmaster!”

Grim went rigid, his whole body trembling. “Myaaaaah! Not the ‘lashings of love’ again! I’m still sore from yesterday!”

Yue just stood there, quietly absorbing the chaos around her like the one calm center in the middle of a raging storm. She tilted her head slightly, watching Ace and Grim with the detached curiosity one might reserve for particularly stupid animals at a petting zoo.

They did this to themselves. Completely and utterly.

Still, she could already feel the incoming headache. And paperwork. And probably getting blamed by association.

Maybe if I pretend to faint, they’ll forget I was here, she mused dryly, one hand idly brushing her pants free of imaginary dust.

Ace yelped as Crowley’s staff thudded menacingly against the ground, the sound sharp and final.

“Ow! Hey! That wasn’t necessary!” Ace protested, ducking away as if expecting a second blow.

Grim squealed and tried to scamper behind Yue’s legs, but she simply stepped aside without a word, letting him tumble into the ground with a pained "oof."

No sympathy here. She was not about to become his human shield.

Crowley loomed over them, his voice rising dramatically as he pointed his staff at the trio.

“As if the likes of you could ever hope to flee from me! Haaaaah…” he declared with a flourish, cape billowing even though there wasn’t a hint of wind.

The students cowered or in Yue’s case, simply stood there, unimpressed and mildly annoyed.

The Headmaster’s mask seemed to glint ominously as he leaned in closer. “Did I not just warn you, ‘no more incidents’? And now you've gone and charred one of my precious statues?! It’s almost as though you want to be expelled!”

Ace immediately dropped into a panicked bow, practically slamming his forehead against the ground. “No! Forgive me! Mercy, Headmaster!”

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh, already feeling the start of a migraine. She shifted her gaze toward Crowley with the most deadpan expression she could muster.

“And how, exactly," she said slowly, voice dry as dust, “was I supposed to stop them? You do realize I’m the ‘supposed’ magicless student here, right?”

Her tone carried the weight of someone who had long since run out of patience with common sense. She pointed lazily toward Ace, who was still groveling.

“I was about to calm Grim down before that guy decided to poke the hornet’s nest. Maybe don’t forget who baited him into it?”

Ace, sensing the sudden shift of blame, hastily bowed again to Crowley, mumbling something about "deep regrets" and "rookie mistakes."

Yue simply crossed her arms and stared flatly at him.

If he thinks groveling will get him out of this, he’s sorely mistaken, she thought, already mentally preparing for whatever fresh hell Crowley was about to unleash on them.

The Headmaster clicked his tongue loudly in disapproval, dramatically sweeping his staff to point directly at Ace. “This will not do. And you, state your name and year, immediately!”

“Uh… Ace Trappola! Freshman!” Ace barked, snapping to attention like a poorly-trained soldier.

Crowley nodded, as if memorizing it for future blackmail purposes. “Then listen well, Trappola. You too, Grim—and especially you, Yue.”

Yue stiffened slightly, but otherwise didn’t react, simply meeting Crowley’s gaze with her usual calm, neutral stare.

“For the disgrace you have brought upon this institution today, you are hereby sentenced to wash a hundred windows.”

The courtyard echoed with their collective groans of despair.

“Myah?! A hundred?!” Grim wailed, throwing his tiny arms into the air. He immediately whirled around and jabbed a paw accusingly at Ace. “That’s what you get for makin’ fun of me! This is all your fault!”

Ace gaped at him in betrayal. “Whaaat?! Why do I have to do it too?!”

“Because you poked the damn bear,” Yue muttered under her breath, rubbing her temple. She let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound of a soul resigning itself to unjust punishment.

Guilty by association, she thought bitterly. Welcome to Night Raven College.

She wasn’t even mad anymore. Just… exhausted.

As Grim and Ace continued to bicker uselessly beside her, Yue simply stared up at the scorched statue, mentally calculating how many years of window-washing it would take to pay off the bad luck she seemed cursed with. She narrow her eyes pondering if she should use her magic or not.

Crowley tapped his staff once more against the ground with a sharp clack, signaling that his decree was final.

"Of course you do. You will meet in the cafeteria after your classes are concluded. No excuses. Are we clear?" His voice dropped low and menacing, daring any of them to protest.

Ace and Grim immediately snapped to attention, nodding furiously like bobbleheads.

"Y-Yes, sir!" Ace stammered.

"Myah! Crystal clear!" Grim added quickly, his ears flattened back against his head.

Yue, meanwhile, simply exhaled through her nose in a long, slow breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. No complaints, no dramatics, just silent resignation.

Figures, she thought dryly. First day and I’m already saddled with detention.

Knowing there was no point in arguing, Yue shifted her attention to Grim, who fidgeted at her side, shooting anxious glances between her and Crowley. She crouched down a little, leveled a look at him, and without fanfare, pulled a small tuna can from the pocket of her uniform, a precaution she’d wisely thought to bring along just in case.

She dangled it in front of his face.

"Move it," she said coolly, her tone leaving no room for debate.

Grim froze for a heartbeat before his nose twitched and his tail gave a hopeful flick. "Myah!" he yelped, immediately scampering to her side, completely forgetting the earlier scuffle.

Ace stared at the scene for a second, looking mildly impressed, before reality caught up to him.

"Wait, wait- I gotta get to class!" he blurted, jolting upright with a start. With a hasty bow toward Crowley and a hurried nod to Yue, he bolted toward the main building, his shoes clattering noisily against the stone.

"Later! Try not to burn down the rest of the school without me!" he called over his shoulder with a cocky grin before disappearing around a corner.

Yue didn’t bother responding. She just waved him off lazily, more concerned with keeping Grim from causing any more disasters than exchanging parting words.

The courtyard, once buzzing with energy and onlookers, was now eerily still, save for Crowley, who lingered like a dark cloud overhead, arms crossed as he watched them with a narrowed gaze.

Yue gave him a stiff nod and began tugging Grim away, her hand lightly gripping the back of his scruff when he tried to dawdle.

Window duty, Grim duty, and cleaning duty... All before noon, she thought sourly, mentally tallying her growing list of troubles.

Still, she supposed it could be worse.

At least she hadn’t been expelled.

Yet.

After what felt like an eternity spent scrubbing, mopping, and more accurately, wrestling Grim into cooperating, Yue found herself trudging toward the cafeteria, the so-called heart of the school.
The towering ceiling, tall arching windows, and gleaming floor gave the room an almost cathedral-like air, but after a full morning of cleaning duty, Yue was too tired to appreciate the grandeur.
She barely spared it a glance as they crossed into the wide, sunlit space.

Grim, trailing behind her, flopped dramatically onto the nearest bench with a groan.
"Myahhh... I'm already wiped from cleanin' all morning," he whined, thumping his tiny paws against the table in protest. "And now we still gotta wash a hundred windows?!"

Yue, not even bothering to look his way, simply adjusted her grip on the strap of her uniform jacket, her expression unreadable.
"Well, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions," she said dryly. "Suck it up. Maybe next time you’ll learn before lighting up statues."

Grim let out a pitiful growl under his breath but didn’t argue. He knew by now Yue wasn’t one to coddle him.

He sat up after a moment, his nose twitching. "What's really buggin' me is... Ace ain't even here yet! After all that mess he caused, too! How dare he make us wait?! Grrr!"

Yue didn't reply immediately. Instead, she let her body relax against one of the tall pillars lining the cafeteria’s sides, arms loosely crossed. She closed her eyes, letting the faint scent of fresh bread and roasted meats in the air swirl around her, cruelly reminding her of how hungry she was.

Time ticked by.

Yue: "..."
Grim: "..."
Yue: "..."
Grim: "..."

The school bell above chimed once, the agreed-upon time for their punishment to start.

Grim huffed. "He's late."

"Mm," Yue murmured without opening her eyes. "He’s late indeed."

Another awkward pause stretched between them, the bustling noise of students eating and chatting filling the background.

Grim's fur bristled. "He bailed on us, didn't he?!"

Yue cracked one eye open, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "He certainly bailed on us."

Grim slammed his paw on the table with the righteous fury of a wronged party.
"Ain't no way am I doin' his punishment too! No way, no how!" He jumped down from the bench, puffing himself up. "C'mon, Yuu! I don't care if we gotta drag him here kickin' and screamin', he's washin' those windows with us!"

Yue pushed off the wall and lazily stretched her arms overhead, feeling several joints pop in protest.
On this matter, surprisingly, she agreed with Grim.

"If I’m going down," she said with a dangerous glint in her eye, "I’m dragging him down with me."

Without wasting another second, the two stormed off, a girl misplaced in a world of Twisted and a pint-sized fire hazard, both fueled by righteous annoyance.

Their mission was clear:

Hunt down Ace Trappola and drag him back, whether he liked it or not.

Grim stomped into the empty classroom first, his little paws practically sparking with frustration.
"Hey! Ace! Get over here, you coward! Think you can hide from me, huh?!"

He darted between desks, peeking under chairs and behind curtains. After a few moments of frenzied searching, Grim huffed, his tail flicking irritably.
"Huh... Maybe there really ain't anyone here."

Just as Yue casually leaned against a nearby desk, a smooth, disembodied voice broke the quiet:
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm here."

Grim practically jumped out of his fur.
"Bwaaaah! The painting just talked!!"

Eyes wide, he scrambled behind Yue, pointing a shaky paw at a large portrait hanging on the wall, a dignified-looking scholar with spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.

The man in the painting gave an almost imperious sniff.
"Yes, and...? Is a talking painting truly so unusual at this school? The lady in the portrait on the opposite wall talks as well. As does the gentleman over there. As long as a painting has a mouth, why wouldn't it be able to speak? Is that truly so strange?"

Yue, far from startled, stepped forward, her gold-flecked eyes glimmering with genuine curiosity.
"Interesting... Are you similar to the ghosts wandering the halls? Or something else entirely?"

The portrait’s expression pinched in slight offense, puffing up a little with haughty pride.
"Unlike those restless, wandering spirits," he said with a harrumph, "I have been contentedly occupying this spot for over fifty years. A respectable and dignified existence, I might add."

Amused, Yue tucked her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels, the hint of a sly smile tugging at her lips.
"Fifty years on one wall... That's some commitment."

The painting adjusted his glasses and continued, redirecting the conversation.
"Now then, you seem to be searching for someone."

"Yeah!" Grim puffed out his chest again, marching up to the canvas. "We're lookin' for this guy named Ace! He’s got messy red hair, a real smug face, and a stupid lil' heart drawn on his cheek! You seen him?"

Yue crossed her arms, glancing around the empty room once more. She had a bad feeling Ace was up to no good... and if he thought he could escape his punishment, he clearly didn't know her very well yet.

The scholarly figure within the portrait adjusted his spectacles with a dignified air before answering,
"Ah, yes. I know precisely the one you speak of, a new student, if memory serves me right. Today was his first day attending classes. I believe he left for his dormitory some time ago."

Grim's fur practically stood on end, his claws digging into the floor in outrage.
"Myaaaah! So it is true! He's tryin' to ditch us!" he yowled, his voice echoing off the classroom walls. "Which way did he go? Tell us, c'mon!"

The portrait, clearly entertained by their antics, chuckled lightly.
"The door leading to the dormitories is in the eastern building," he said, gesturing vaguely with a nod of his painted head toward the far side of the campus.

Grim whipped around to Yue, determination burning in his eyes.
"Let's go after him, Yue! We can't let that weasel get away!"

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose, a long, exhausted sigh escaping her lips, the kind of sigh that came from deep within her soul.
Honestly, was it too much to ask for just one peaceful day at this bizarre school?

She blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and muttered dryly,
"Fine. But try not to set the whole place on fire this time, Grim."

Not bothering to wait for the overeager monster to bolt ahead, Yue pushed herself off the desk and started toward the door with a steady, unhurried pace. Internally, she was already preparing herself for the inevitable chaos that would come next. Somehow, she just knew Ace wasn't going to make this easy for them.

After all, trouble never seemed to come in small doses around here, and unfortunately for her, she was starting to suspect she had a natural talent for attracting it.

The Hall of Mirrors stretched endlessly before them, polished glass and swirling lights reflecting their hurried steps. The atmosphere, normally serene and mesmerizing, now felt almost comical as the sound of Grim’s furious little paws and Yue’s calm, steady jog echoed off the mirrored walls.

Up ahead, Ace was mumbling under his breath, clearly thinking himself victorious.
"Yeah, right. Like I’m actually gonna wash a hundred windows. I'm just gonna sneak back to-"

"AHA! GOTCHA, PUNK!" Grim’s shout cut through the hall, startling Ace mid-step.

Ace's head snapped up, his face a comical mask of horror.
"Oh no! They saw me!" he yelped, already breaking into a sprint.

"Stop right there, pal!" Grim snarled, pumping his tiny legs furiously. "No fair gettin' a head start! WAIT!"

Ace threw a panicked glance over his shoulder and hollered,
"Who in their right mind would ever wait for the people chasing them?! Seeya!"

Trailing a little ways behind, Yue couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Ace’s logic, her pace leisurely.
"Well, he's not wrong," she mused inwardly. If I were him, I’d run too.
Still, that didn’t mean he was off the hook.

Just as Grim and Yue turned the next corner in pursuit, they stumbled upon a new figure, a boy with striking two-toned hair and serious blue eyes, standing in the hall looking bewildered.

Ace yelled, "Outta my way!" as he barreled toward the unsuspecting student.

The boy stumbled back, startled. "Hey! What gives?!" he blurted, trying to figure out what was happening.

Jogging closer, Yue offered him a dry, almost pitying look. "He's running from his responsibilities. Mind lending a hand?" she said casually, as if she were discussing the weather.

The boy froze, visibly conflicted. "That's not right!" he barked, stiffening with sudden righteous indignation. He muttered to himself under his breath, "But how do I stop him? Freeze his legs? Tie him up? Maybe... No, that’s too much..."

Grim, still chasing, growled impatiently, "I don't care how! Just do something!"

"Anything?! Uh, anything... Okay!" the boy yelped, scrambling to think. With an awkward but determined thrust of his hand, he cried out, "I summon thee... something heavy!"

With a sudden flash and a loud pop, a heavy iron cauldron materialized in the air and crashed down right on top of Ace, pinning him to the ground with a loud metallic thud.

Ace yelped in horror, "Bwaaah?! Wha– A chauldron?!"

Yue blinked at the sight, then slowly tilted her head, observing the results. She let out a short, incredulous laugh, one hand resting on her hip. "Well... I guess that works," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into a bemused smirk.

Grim was practically rolling on the floor laughing, clutching his belly with his little paws. "Ah ha ha ha ha! Look, Yue, look!" he cackled, pointing at the sorry sight of Ace sprawled under the heavy cauldron. "That Ace guy got squashed flat! Aha ha ha! That's what you get, punk!"

Yue jogged up to the blue-haired student who had helped, her pace leisurely despite the chaos. She offered a faint, amused smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Thanks for the assist with the cauldron," she said easily. "Name’s Yue. Call me Yuu if you having hard time pronouncing my name"

The boy gave a small, serious nod, standing stiffly upright like someone used to following rules to the letter. "Deuce," he replied. His blue eyes darted between the pinned Ace and the cauldron, a frown pulling at his mouth. "A cauldron? I wasn’t expecting... that. I might've overdone it a little..." His voice carried a slight edge of panic under the calm exterior, like he only just realized the consequences.

Meanwhile, Ace groaned dramatically, pushing uselessly against the metal trap. "Owwww! What are you bothering me for? You guys could've just banged out the work yourselves!" he whined, glaring up at them with all the indignity of a cat stuck under a laundry basket.

Yue tilted her head and crouched down beside him, resting her elbows lazily on her knees. Her silver eyes gleamed with a faint teasing light. "There's no running from the Headmaster’s orders," she said, voice almost sing-song. "You either wash a hundred windows... or that problem you’re trying to escape is just gonna come back and bite harder later."

Ace muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like cursing, but before he could get another word in, Deuce leaned forward, incredulous. "You have to wash a hundred windows as punishment?!" His brows shot up toward his hairline. "What the heck did you even do?!"

Ace waved a hand dismissively, still trapped under the cauldron. "I was just messin' with that furball a little," he grumbled. "...Okay, okay, and maybe the Queen of Hearts statue got a tiny bit scorched. No big deal. Sue me."

At that, Deuce stiffened, his face paling slightly. "You damaged a statue of the Great Seven?!" he blurted, scandalized. "No wonder the Headmaster flew off the handle! You finally manage to get into this school, and you cause trouble on your very first day?! Are you stupid or what?!"

Ace shot him a glare. "Oh, shut up. Who even are you, anyway?"

Deuce folded his arms tightly across his chest, his face hardening in determination. "Deuce. Deuce Spade," he said firmly. "Don't you recognize your own classmate? Or is your memory just as bad as your judgment?"

Ace sputtered for a second, then grumbled, "You don’t remember my name either, do you?"

"That's not the point!" Deuce snapped back, puffing himself up. "You shouldn't be trying to duck orders from the Headmaster. That's just asking for trouble!"

Grim, still snickering behind Yue, chimed in with a triumphant smirk, "Serves you right!"

With a defeated huff, Ace slumped even further under the cauldron. "Yeah, yeah, message received..." he muttered, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this. "Fine, let's go bang out those windows already."

He paused, blinking as something clicked in his brain. "Wait... Huh?"

Yue just smiled sweetly at him, the very picture of innocence, even as she tapped the rim of the cauldron lightly with her finger. "Oh, don’t mind me," she said. "But you’re gonna have to get yourself out of there first."

Yue straightened up, dusting off her knees, but something gnawed at her, an odd, creeping stillness settling over the hall. She glanced around, frowning. It was too quiet. Far too quiet.

And then it hit her.

Grim was gone.

She blinked in mild disbelief. That little rascal... She hadn’t taken her eyes off him for more than a second, and he’d already seized the opportunity to bolt. Yue sighed, a deep, exhausted sound she was becoming far too familiar with today.

Ace, noticing the same thing a beat later, shouted, "The furball! He's gone!"

Across the wide expanse of the hall, Grim’s cackling laughter echoed like a bell. "Ah ha ha ha! I'll leave you two suckers to clean up the mess! Later, losers!" His tiny form zipped down the corridor, a blur of mischief and smoke.

Ace turned a scandalized glare toward the fleeing creature. "You caught me just so you could run away yourself?! Hey, you!" he barked, pointing a finger at Deuce. "Uh... Juice, or whatever!"

Deuce stiffened immediately, his face twisting in offended outrage. "My name isn't 'Juice'! It's Deuce! With a D!" he snapped, his fists clenching at his sides.

Yue, observing the exchange, couldn't help but press a knuckle lightly against her mouth to hide a chuckle. The absurdity of the situation almost made it entertaining, almost.

Ignoring Deuce’s protests, Ace jabbed a thumb at Grim’s retreating figure. "This is partially your responsibility now, you know! So help me catch that little furball!"

Deuce spluttered, absolutely flabbergasted. "How is this my responsibility?!" he protested, voice cracking in disbelief.

Ace, with the audacity only a delinquent could possess, shrugged. "Grim’s useless janitor friend-" he thumbed lazily at Yue, who raised a slow, unimpressed eyebrow at him, "-can’t use magic. That means it’s up to you and me!"

Yue made no effort to correct him. She crossed her arms and tilted her head thoughtfully, lips twitching with silent amusement. If Ace wanted to dig his own grave, who was she to stop him? Besides, watching him squirm later would probably be the highlight of her day.

Without wasting another second, the three of them broke into a sprint after escaping Grim.

"Better stop right there, furball!" Ace hollered as he dashed forward, arms pumping wildly.

Grim glanced back, mischief sparking in his bright eyes. "Make me, explodey hair!" he jeered before ducking around a corner, his small body slipping through the maze of mirrors with worrying ease.

Ace growled low under his breath. "Fine! If that’s how you want it... Then it’s a game of cat and mouse! Follow me, Juice!"

Deuce groaned, his patience clearly fraying. "For the last time, it’s Deuce! Deuce! How hard is it to get a name right?!"

Yue, jogging easily behind them, couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. At this rate, I'm going to get a workout in before Grim even gets caught.

Grim skidded around a corner, tiny paws scrambling for traction. "Ack! I got nowhere to go-!" he cried, his voice tinged with panic.

Ace, hot on his heels, grinned like a cat ready to pounce. "One more push, and we've got this in the bag..." he said, practically licking his lips at the thought of victory.

Deuce, a few paces behind, pumped his fist in determination. "If I just stop him with my magic-!"

Ace whipped his head around mid-sprint, scandalized. "Hey, could you NOT steal my schtick?! Step off, man!"

Deuce shot him an indignant glare. "Or you could just stay out of my way!"

While the two boys argued, Grim spotted an opening and seized the opportunity. "Woo! Now's my chance!" he whooped, darting away in a flash of gray fur.

Ace snapped his attention back to the fleeing monster, shouting, "HEY! WAIT-!"

Yue, bringing up the rear, felt her patience thinning fast. She slowed slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose as she jogged. This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. I'm supposed to be settling in, not babysitting a pair of bickering toddlers and a runaway furball... Unfortunately, like it or not, Grim was now her responsibility. A thought that made her sigh deeply as she picked up the pace again.

They barreled down the ornate corridor, the elegant decor a blur, before bursting through the swinging doors of the cafeteria. The scent of fresh bread and polished wood filled the air, but there was no time to admire the place.

"Don't forget!" Ace barked at Grim as they weaved between tables and chairs. "You gotta wash all 100 windows by yourself if I catch you! You said so yourself!"

Grim, nimble as ever, bounded onto a table and sprang off it like a spring-loaded toy. "Nuh-uh! I never said that!" he protested, voice full of smug defiance.

Ace gritted his teeth, practically foaming at the mouth with frustration. "Deuce! Match your magic timing with mine! We'll corner him!"

Deuce, caught off guard, blurted, "Huh?!"

Ace slammed his palm against his forehead mid-run. "Were you even listening?! That was way too soon!"

Yue watched the pair with exasperated disbelief. It's like watching two headless chickens try to herd a cat... she thought dryly, dodging a chair that Deuce nearly toppled over.

Meanwhile, Grim, still dodging wildly, snickered. "Lucky me! Time to make a break for it!" He shot through a gap between two long tables, aiming for another exit.

Yue narrowed her eyes, already moving to intercept. Not today, you little menace.

"Argh! Stop jumping around like that!" Ace barked, weaving between tables as Grim taunted them from above.

"Heh heh heh! Catch me if you can!" Grim cackled, scampering effortlessly across the beams and fixtures.

Deuce craned his neck to look up, frustration clear on his face. "No fair climbing onto the chandelier, you coward! I haven’t even learned flight magic yet..." he muttered, thinking hard. "What could I summon to grab him...? Hmmm..." His eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! That’s it!"

Ace, noticing the look on Deuce’s face, immediately felt a chill run down his spine. "Wait, wait, wait—what are you plotting?! Why are you pointing your pen at me?!"

Deuce, completely missing Ace’s panic, said confidently, "I’m going to launch you. It'll work, trust me!"

Yue, who had just caught up, felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. Oh no... she thought, eyeing Deuce's spell pen warily. He was a freshman, barely trained, and Grim was dangling from a fragile chandelier. Nothing about this screamed "good plan." She quickly raised a hand, her voice tight with warning, "I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Deuce."

Ace, already levitating slightly against his will, flailed his arms in a blind panic. "Are you KIDDING ME?! Bwaaah! Put me down! Seriously?! ABORT! ABORT!"

"I think we could just bait him with tuna or-" Yue started, trying to salvage the situation, but was abruptly cut off.

Deuce, totally ignoring the protests, locked onto his "target" with laser focus. "Just make sure you grab him tight. I’ve got him lined up and... GO!"

There was a flash of magic, and a scream.

"BWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Ace shrieked as he was catapulted straight up.

Grim let out a yowl of terror as Ace collided with the chandelier. "MYAAAAHHHH!"

Yue stood frozen, wide-eyed, watching the catastrophe unfold in horrifying slow motion. "Oh dear..." she whispered, helplessly witnessing the moment Ace latched onto Grim, only for the chandelier to groan ominously under the weight.

"Oh no no no no no..." Yue muttered, half in denial as the inevitable happened.

With a loud CRASH, the chandelier tore free from the ceiling and came crashing down in a shower of sparks and debris, smashing several tables beneath it.

Silence fell over the cafeteria. Yue closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and exhaled a long, defeated sigh. She tilted her head back toward the ornate ceiling, now missing a chandelier, and stared at the empty spot, silently questioning what cosmic mistake she had made to deserve being saddled with these idiots on her very first day.

Ace coughed as he pushed himself out of the wreckage, Grim clinging weakly to his head like a dazed hat. "I cannot believe... you just did that," he gasped, glaring daggers at Deuce.

Grim gave a pitiful "Myaaah..." before sliding off Ace’s head like a sack of flour.

Deuce, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, offered, "Oh, right... I probably should’ve come up with a way to soften your landing first. My bad."

Ace rounded on him instantly. "You complete and total MORON! We caught Grim, sure, but now the chandelier's broken! If the Headmaster finds out about this-!"

A cold, almost silky voice interrupted him from behind.

"If I find out about... what, dear Ace?" came the smooth voice of Headmaster Crowley.

Ace turned pale as a ghost and snapped to attention. "H-Headmaster Crowley!"

Yue silently mouthed a prayer to whatever higher being might be listening. Please just let me vanish from existence right now...

Crowley’s voice cracked like a whip through the stunned cafeteria.

"YOU. THREE. AGAIN. What have you done this time?!"

Grim wobbled in Yue's arms, his little paws grasping at the air. "Myaaah... Everything’s spinning…"

Suppressing the overwhelming urge to drop him on the spot, Yue locked Grim firmly in her grip with a tight, thin smile. The last thing I need is this gremlin making another break for it, she thought, her temple throbbing.

Crowley swept toward them, his cape fluttering dramatically behind him. "Burning a statue wasn’t enough for you? Now you’ve destroyed the chandelier?! Enough. All of you are expelled!"

Deuce and Ace both practically shrieked, voices overlapping in their panic.

"WHAAAAAAAT?!"

"No, no, no! Headmaster, please!" Deuce begged, looking like he might drop to his knees any second. "Give me a second chance! I can’t get expelled, I have to be here!"

Crowley folded his arms with a heavy sigh, entirely unmoved. "Then blame yourself for your own foolish behavior."

"I-I’ll pay for the damages!" Deuce cried, desperation pouring out of him. "However much it costs!"

Crowley raised a brow, as if Deuce had just said the stupidest thing imaginable. "Pay, you say?" His voice turned grave. "That chandelier was no mere light fixture. Its candles were powered by a rare, magical energy source, enchanted to burn for eternity. It was crafted by a legendary artificer,  possibly their greatest work, and installed when this very school was founded."

The Headmaster gave them all a pitying look, as if savoring the moment before dropping the guillotine. "Considering its historical and magical value... I would estimate its worth to be no less than one billion thaumarks." He paused for dramatic effect. "And you intend to repay that sum?"

Deuce’s face went utterly blank. "A... A billion thaumarks?!"

Ace, who had gone ghost-white, stammered, "B-But with your magic, sir, I’m sure you could just, y'know, snap your fingers and fix it right up!"

Crowley shook his head gravely. "Even magic has its limits. Worse still, the chandelier’s magestone, the very heart of its magic, is cracked beyond repair. A magestone cannot simply be replaced. The candles... will never burn again."

The air grew thick with the weight of Crowley’s words.

Meanwhile, Yue, standing perfectly still with Grim tucked under her arm, could feel her patience decaying by the second. Truthfully, if my magic wasn’t sealed, I could probably repair that thing in under five minutes. Her gaze flickered to the shattered remains of the chandelier, mentally calculating the spells she'd normally use, Reconstruction, Magestone Regeneration, maybe a touch of Temporal Reversion. But with my power locked away, she sighed internally, I'd probably just blow the whole cafeteria up.

Her tight smile never wavered, but the oppressive aura leaking off her, a chilling mixture of barely restrained irritation and a slow-blooming murderous intent, made even Grim stiffen nervously.

Ace shifted closer to Deuce, whispering out of the side of his mouth, "This is bad… real bad…"

Deuce’s lower lip trembled. "What am I gonna do...? How am I supposed to explain this to my mom...?"

Yue, voice flat and dripping with sarcasm, finally spoke. "And you thought it was a good idea not to supervise the punishment?" She shot a sharp, accusatory look at Crowley.

The Headmaster flinched as if she'd physically struck him. "W-Well, you see, as Headmaster, I have many pressing responsibilities-"

Yue tilted her head ever so slightly, the smile on her face never reaching her frosty eyes. "You could have informed any professor to oversee Ace's punishment. Simple delegation, no?"

Crowley coughed, sweat beading at his forehead. "N-Now, now, Yuu-san, let’s not point fingers! Mistakes were made all around-"

"And yet somehow," Yue said sweetly, voice like poisoned honey, "the only ones punished are always the students."

Every attempt Crowley made to excuse himself, Yue deflected neatly, her gaze and tone polite but slicing deeper with each retort until Crowley looked ready to bolt.

Desperate to regain control of the situation, Crowley abruptly clapped his hands together.

"A-Ahem! Anyway-!" he said loudly, cutting himself off from further humiliation. "There may be... one way. One tiny, nearly invisible sliver of hope to repair this chandelier."

Everyone froze, hope flickering in the air like a dying ember.

Yue crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. This should be good.

"There is?!" Deuce and Ace blurted out at once, eyes shining with desperate hope.

Crowley nodded, finally pleased to have everyone's attention once more. "Indeed. The magestone that powered the chandelier was originally mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. If you can procure a magestone with identical properties, it may, and I do stress, may be possible to repair it."

Deuce immediately straightened, determination burning in his eyes. "Then I’ll go find one, sir! With your permission!"

Crowley lifted a hand, as if to temper Deuce's eagerness. "I should caution you…" he said gravely, "the mines were closed quite some time ago. There is a very high probability that all the viable magestones have already been mined out. You might find nothing but dust and broken dreams."

"I don’t care!" Deuce declared without hesitation. "I’ll do anything to avoid getting expelled!"

Ace, meanwhile, slumped in defeat, running a hand through his hair with a long-suffering sigh. "Man, how did I get dragged this deep into this mess…?" he muttered under his breath, resigning himself to his grim fate.

As Crowley prepared to further dramatize the difficulty of their mission, Yue, who had remained silent until now, tightened her grip on Grim, who whined pitifully, spoke up, voice sweet but cold enough to freeze the air.

"And," Yue said smoothly, her eyes sharpening like a blade, "you will be personally responsible if anything happens to us... correct, Headmaster?"

The whole room seemed to freeze. Crowley blinked, mouth flapping wordlessly like a fish gasping for air.

"I—! W-Well, you see—"

Yue tilted her head slightly, her smile widening in a way that made even Ace and Deuce shuffle back a step. "Did I stutter, Headmaster?"

Crowley visibly deflated, shoulders sagging like a punctured balloon. "...Yes. I will be responsible," he mumbled.

"Good." Yue turned crisply on her heel, her iron grip still on Grim, who let out a helpless squeal as she towed him along like an unruly toddler.

"And no tuna cans for you, Grim, for the upcoming days. Consider it your time for reflection," she added coolly.

"Myaaaahhh! That's cruel and unusual punishment!" Grim wailed, tail drooping dramatically as he was dragged along.

Ace and Deuce exchanged a look behind her, part admiration, part fear.

"Man, he's scary when she's mad…" Ace whispered.

"More like terrifying," Deuce agreed, gulping. "But... also kinda amazing."

With that, they quickly fell into step behind Yue, trailing her like guilty ducklings.

As they made their way through the halls toward the Mirror Chamber, the heavy tension started to loosen, if only slightly.

Ace sighed loudly, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Maaaan... I swear, I have the worst luck. How does stuff like this always happen to me? First the statue, now a billion-mark chandelier…"

Deuce shot him a scowl. "You’re the one who started it by throwing that broom in the first place!"

Ace threw his hands up defensively. "Hey, you could’ve caught it! You had a clear shot! Don't go blaming me just 'cause you’ve got butterfingers!"

Deuce bristled, fists clenching. "I was trying to clean! You’re the one who turned it into dodgeball practice!"

"Details, details," Ace said breezily, clearly not that sorry.

Yue, walking a few steps ahead, let out a long, suffering sigh through her nose. Children. I am surrounded by children.

She didn’t bother turning around, simply lifting her voice enough that they could hear her. "Keep bickering and I’ll make you both carry Grim all the way there. See how you like hauling a howling sack of fur."

Grim let out a huffy "Myaaah!" but wisely said no more.

Ace and Deuce immediately snapped their mouths shut, casting nervous glances at each other before picking up the pace to follow her.

They soon reached the Mirror Chamber, the grand hall filled with the eerie glow of the great Dark Mirror. Its surface rippled like water, sensing their approach.

Without hesitating, Deuce stepped forward, squaring his shoulders with new determination.

"Dark Mirror!" he called. "Take us to the Dwarfs’ Mine!"

The mirror shimmered, responding to the command, and a swirling portal began to form within its depths.

Yue glanced at the boys sideways as the portal stabilized, Grim still dangling under one arm like an unamused purse. If they keep this up, we might survive this... or at least have good blackmail material.

With a final breath, the group stepped through the portal into the unknown, toward the abandoned mines, toward the possibility of salvation...
Or, more likely, toward even more trouble.

The Mirror spat them out at the base of a looming, craggy mountain. The sky above was swallowed in deep indigo hues, the only light bleeding from the sliver of a distant moon. Thick, tangled woods sprawled around them, silent, oppressive, and utterly still. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and moss.

Yue immediately shifted into high alert.

Her feet barely touched the ground before she straightened, eyes scanning their surroundings with sharp precision. Shadows stretched long and thin between the gnarled trees, and the thick underbrush muffled all but the faintest whisper of the wind.

Always assume danger, her shisho's voice echoed sternly in her mind. A single misstep in unknown territory could cost your life.

The lesson wasn’t just theory, Yue had lived it. Especially in places like this: abandoned mines, half-swallowed forests... graveyards of forgotten ambition.

Without a word, she crouched low, running her gloved fingertips lightly over the forest floor. She scanned for telltale signs: disturbed earth, deep claw marks on tree trunks, stray feathers, or footprints, anything that might hint at what creatures still roamed here. Her brows knitted in a slight frown. So far, nothing too fresh... but the oppressive stillness itself set her nerves on edge.

Something feels off, she thought, glancing back at her so-called companions. Out of all of us, I'm probably the only one who's even remotely prepared for this.

She tightened her grip on Grim's scruff, keeping him from wandering off.

Deuce broke the silence, stepping cautiously forward. "So this is the Dwarfs' Mine... Long ago, this mine was flush with magestones."

Grim shivered, his fur fluffing up in alarm. "Urgh... Who knows what kinda monsters are lurking in there now?"

Ace squinted into the distance and pointed. "Hey, I see a house over there. Maybe someone's still around. Let’s check it out."

Following his finger, Yue spotted a small, squat cottage tucked into the tree line, half-sunken into shadow.

"Stay close," she muttered to the others, automatically shifting her pace to stay a step ahead. Grim wriggled in her grasp but didn’t complain. Even he could feel the heaviness hanging over the place.

As they approached the cottage, dusk fully swallowed the forest, painting the scene in muted purples and grays. Yue pushed open the creaking door with her foot, stepping cautiously inside.

The air inside was stale, thick with dust and the sharp tang of mildew. A single glance told Yue everything: seven small chairs clustered around a tiny dining table, their legs warped with age. Tiny desks, low-set to accommodate someone much shorter than an average human, lined the cracked walls. Cobwebs draped the corners like ragged curtains, and dust motes swirled in the stale air.

Yue coughed once, wrinkling her nose, and fanned the dust away with her hand. Lovely, she thought dryly. Crowley wasn't lying, this place has been abandoned for ages.

But it wasn’t just the passage of time that unsettled her. No, it felt like the occupants had fled, not left at leisure. Half-eaten bowls, abandoned toys, personal belongings still scattered across the floor. As if they had dropped everything and run from something they couldn’t fight.

The thought prickled uneasily at the back of her mind.

Meanwhile, Deuce called out politely, though his voice was muted by the thick air. "Hellooo? Is anybody home...?"

Only silence answered.

"Must be empty," Deuce muttered, stepping over a broken chair. "Looks like it’s been abandoned for a long time."

"Bwah! I got a spider web on my face!" Grim wailed, flailing wildly and nearly smacking Yue in the process. "Ptchoo! Ptchoo!"

Ace snickered, wiping a cobweb from his own jacket sleeve. "Look how tiny these desks and chairs are. What, did a bunch of kids live here? One, two... seven chairs. Man, it’s like a clown car in here."

Deuce looked around more thoughtfully. "When the mine was flourishing, this place must’ve been full of life."

Ace shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's a ghost town now. We’re wasting time. If we wanna find a magestone, it'll be somewhere deeper inside the mine." He jerked his thumb toward the looming tunnel entrance outside. "Let’s head in."

As the others bickered and shuffled toward the door, Yue lingered behind, methodically searching the room. She wasn't about to walk into a dark mine unarmed.

Her eyes scanned the cluttered cottage, spotting an old pickaxe resting on the table. She picked it up, only for the rotten handle to crumble in her hands. She clicked her tongue in irritation and set it down.

Digging through a pile of discarded tools and odds-and-ends, she found a rusty iron pole, old, but still sturdy enough to swing. Yue gave it a few test swings, judging the weight and balance. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for a makeshift weapon.

Better than nothing, she thought, slipping the pole into her grip with a practiced flourish.

With one last glance at the eerie, abandoned cottage, Yue turned sharply and followed the others outside, her steps light, silent, and prepared.

If anything jumps out at us, Yue thought, eyes narrowing as she stepped into the dark, gaping maw of the mine, they’re not touching a hair on my boys without going through me first.

The group emerged from the abandoned cottage, and Yue paused at the threshold of the mine.

The entrance yawned before them like a gaping mouth, framed by jagged rock and reinforced beams slick with age and moss. The surrounding darkness felt almost alive, dense, impenetrable, and cold. A musty, metallic scent, old earth and rust, wafted from the tunnel depths.

Grim stared into the black void, his ears flattening nervously. "You wanna go inside there? It's pitch black!" he squawked, taking an involuntary step backward.

Ace rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his voice dripping with bravado. "What, are you scared of the dark? Pathetic."

Yue couldn't help the snort that slipped out at Ace’s comment. Big words from someone whose hand is shaking, she thought dryly, catching the way Ace hastily tucked his trembling fingers into his jacket pocket, trying and failing to look nonchalant.

Her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings again, searching for anything useful. Near the old minecart tracks, half-buried in dirt and weeds, she spotted a battered lantern. The glass was cracked, and the metal frame was rusted, but it seemed salvageable. Yue picked it up, inspecting it with a frown.

It'll have to do.

Wordlessly, she adjusted the wick and patched the worst of the cracks with a strip of cloth torn from a disused sack nearby. Then, holding the lantern out toward Grim, she jerked her chin expectantly.

"Grim," she said curtly, "light it."

The little monster bristled immediately. "Why should I listen to my henchman?! I'm the great Grim!"

Yue simply leveled him with a hard, unimpressed stare, the kind that brooked no argument.

Grim gulped, his tail puffing up, and hurriedly spat a small controlled fireball into the lantern. It sputtered to life, casting a warm, flickering glow that barely pierced the oppressive gloom.

Ace snickered under his breath. Grim whirled on him, ready to snap back, but Yue cut in first.

"Enough," she said firmly, thrusting the now-lit lantern into Ace’s chest.

He stumbled back a step, blinking. "Huh? Me?"

"You have two hands. Hold it," Yue said simply. "You're not here just to run your mouth."

Ace opened his mouth, probably to protest, but thought better of it when Yue raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. Grumbling under his breath, he took the lantern with both hands, holding it high.

Yue gave a small, approving nod. Finally, Everyone doing their part.

"Myah?! I'm not scared of anything!" Grim puffed up again, clearly trying to salvage his dignity. "I'm taking the lead! You all follow me!"

Without waiting for a response, Grim marched forward into the mine, tail high and defiant. The lantern’s glow bobbed wildly with each determined step.

Yue followed closely behind, her grip tightening around the rusty iron pole she carried. Her instincts flared, caution prickling at the back of her neck like a cold draft. She expanded her perception outward, letting her senses stretch into the darkness ahead, just as her shisho had taught her.

The mine swallowed them whole.

Inside, the air was damp and heavy. Every breath tasted of earth and metal, old dust clinging to the back of their throats. The tunnel twisted and stretched ahead of them, supported by rotting wooden beams that creaked softly under their own weight.

Small veins of magestone glittered faintly in the stone walls, throwing eerie glimmers of light, but they were too small to be of any real value. Yue scanned them out of habit but quickly dismissed them. Nothing that would power a chandelier.

The lantern's weak light cast long, trembling shadows across the rough-hewn walls. Every crevice and outcrop seemed alive, moving in the flickering glow.

Yue’s boots made barely a whisper on the packed dirt floor. She tapped the ground gently with the pole at each step, testing for hollow spots, hidden pits, or traps. A dull vibration traveled up the pole with each careful strike, telling her that the ground was, for now, solid.

Her sharp gaze flicked around constantly. A mine this old, and this abandoned, didn’t stay empty without a reason.

They pressed deeper into the mine, shadows curling and shifting around them with every step. The air grew colder, so cold that even Grim's tail began to droop.

"Hold up!" Deuce called suddenly, halting so fast that Ace nearly ran into his back.

Ace let out an annoyed sigh. "What now?"

Deuce squinted ahead, eyes darting left and right. "There’s... something there."

Grim's fur puffed up once again. "Myawh?! What do you mean something?!" he squeaked, clinging closer to Yue’s side without thinking.

Then, from the darkness ahead, came a burst of eerie, high-pitched giggling.

"Hee hee hee hee! Visitors! The first in ten years!" sang a translucent figure that drifted lazily into view, a ghost with a mischievous smile stretching unnaturally wide across its face.

Another spirit materialized beside it, voice dripping with mock hospitality. "Do make yourselves at home... You can stay forever!"

Ace practically jumped a step back, waving the lantern wildly. "More ghosts?! Seriously?! They're floating around here too?!"

Deuce’s face tightened. "If we stop to fight, we'll never get anywhere. Let's just keep moving," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, but his stiff posture gave away his unease.

Ace rolled his eyes dramatically. "Sure, sure, but don't act like we all voted you team leader, genius. The only reason we're here at all is because of that boneheaded stunt you pulled!"

Deuce stiffened, turning sharply toward Ace. "Oh? I'm pretty sure this mess started because you tried to ditch your window-cleaning punishment!"

Ace threw his hands up. "Oh, so we're digging up ancient history now? Fine. Let's go all the way back. This disaster actually started when furball over there fried that statue!"

Grim gasped, scandalized. "Myah?! Maybe you shouldn't have made fun of me then, huh?!"

The volume of their argument quickly escalated, their voices bouncing chaotically off the stone walls. The ghosts cackled louder, circling closer like vultures sensing weakness.

Yue's patience, already worn thin by the mine’s oppressive atmosphere, snapped.

She slammed the rusted pole down onto the ground with a sharp clang that echoed through the tunnel like a gunshot.

"Shut up. All of you," she barked, her voice cutting through the bickering like a blade through smoke.

The effect was instant. Grim, Ace, and Deuce froze, their mouths snapping shut. Even the ghosts paused mid-laugh, hovering uncertainly in the air.

Yue fixed the boys with a cold, withering glare, the kind that promised severe consequences if they so much as breathed wrong.

"Each one of you is at fault," she said, her tone low and sharp enough to slice. "Ace, for baiting Grim, insulting everyone, and trying to run away from your punishment. Grim, for running wild and causing mayhem without thinking. Deuce, for rushing headlong with that hot-headed plan without consulting the rest."

Each name was accompanied by a tap of her pole on the ground, tap, tap, tap, as if passing judgment.

She turned then, slowly, to the floating ghosts.

"And you," Yue said, voice dropping even lower, cold enough to freeze the marrow. She raised the pole, pointing it directly at the spirits, golden sparks flickering faintly around her hand. For a brief heartbeat, a glint of deep gold flashed through her silvery eyes, ancient, dangerous.

The ghosts recoiled midair, their spectral faces paling even further.

"I'm running very low on patience," Yue continued, voice deceptively calm. "Unless you want me to personally send you screaming back to the underworld, I suggest you scram. Now."

The ghosts didn’t need telling twice. With a chorus of frantic yelps "Y-YES, MADAM!" they fled deeper into the mine, their forms flickering like candle flames in a storm.

The mine fell eerily silent once again, save for the soft crackle of the lantern and the boys’ embarrassed shuffling.

Yue let out a slow breath through her nose, reining herself back in. She leveled a final, stern look at the group.

"Focus," she ordered curtly. "We’re here for a magestone. Nothing else. No more bickering, no more distractions."

The boys nodded stiffly, chastened, and fell in line behind her.

Yue took the lead again, her senses stretched razor-thin for any signs of trouble, her grip firm around her pole.

Honestly, she thought with exasperation, babysitting wasn’t listed anywhere in the mission description.

Still... a tiny, reluctant smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. At least they listen when it counts.

They pressed on deeper into the mine, unaware that something far more dangerous than mischievous ghosts awaited them in the blackened tunnels ahead.

They moved cautiously through the gloom, the only light coming from Ace’s wavering lantern. Every shadow seemed to stretch longer, deeper, as if alive.

Then-
Grim’s ears twitched sharply. He froze mid-step, tail puffed up and stiff.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, his voice tight with fear.

Yue immediately halted, muscles coiling like a drawn bowstring. She tilted her head, forcing herself to breathe slowly, tuning out the others' nervous shuffling. She strained her hearing-

There it was.
A low, grating noise, like claws dragging agonizingly slow across rough stone.

Yue’s fingers tightened instinctively around her rusted pole, knuckles whitening. Her heart stayed steady, but her mind raced—calculating escape routes, potential threats, and the quickest way to shield the others if needed.

Something’s here.
The very air around them shifted, colder, heavier. Every instinct in Yue’s body screamed danger.

Then a voice, twisted and broken, rasped from the darkness:

"...iiivvv... ...oooouuu..."

Yue snapped her head toward the sound, instincts flaring. Alarm blared in her head like a warning siren.

The others stiffened behind her.

"Huh?!" they chorused in a confused panic.

Ace swung the lantern wildly around, his voice cracking, "Wh-where's that comin' from?!"

The ghostly voice moaned again, closer this time:

"...neeevvvaaa... ...iiivvv... ...ooouuu…"

Deuce gulped audibly. "Sounds like... it's getting closer…"

Suddenly, something lurched into view from around the bend of the mine shaft.

In the dim glow of the lantern, it staggered forward, a hulking figure, grotesque and wrong, its form stitched together like a fever dream. Its head resembled a giant ink bottle, dark and glossy, but a deep, jagged crack ran down one side. From the crack, thick, black ink oozed and dripped steadily, almost as if the creature itself was bleeding shadow. Where its mouth should have been, there was only the unsettling sight of ink bubbling and seeping through the break, giving the impression of a silent, endless snarl, twisted with greed and madness.

Its voice rumbled out in a guttural growl:

"Stooonesss... Stooonesss aaare miiiiine!"

Ace recoiled, face draining of color. "Bwah! There it is!"

Deuce stumbled back a step. "What is that?!"

Grim scrambled behind Yue, fur standing on end. "Myawhh! No one said there'd be monsters! We gotta get outta here!"

Ace's gaze flicked between the creature and the walls. "That thing’s seriously creepy! But- wait! Didn’t it say something about 'stones'?!"

Grim's eyes widened. "Wait, WHAT?!"

The monster let out a deep, guttural snarl, its distorted voice growing louder, more desperate:

"Stooonesss... ...nevvvaaa give stooonesss...!"

The trio screamed together, stumbling backward.

Deuce’s eyes lit up in realization. "So there ARE still magestones here!"

Grim shook his head violently, backing away. "Myaaaah... Even as a future great sorcerer, I... I don't think I can take that thing down!"

Deuce clenched his fists, squaring his shoulders with reckless resolve. "But we need that magestone or we're all getting expelled! I’m going in!"

"Are you outta your mind?!" Ace yelped, grabbing at his sleeve to stop him.

Before Deuce could charge recklessly forward, Yue moved. Fast.
She grabbed Deuce's shoulder in an iron grip, forcing him to halt mid-step.

"Stop," she ordered, voice low but brooking no argument. "It’s too dangerous. We don't know what that thing’s capable of."

Her body moved instinctively between the creature and the boys, taking a defensive stance. Even as adrenaline sharpened her senses, Yue's mind remained ruthlessly clear, calculating, planning. There was no room for panic now.

Charging in blindly will only get us all killed.
I have to keep them safe... even if it means standing against that thing myself.

Deuce stiffened under her hand, frustration and fear warring in his eyes. But he didn’t pull away. Yue’s authority, earned through both action and presence, held firm.

The monster staggered closer, its claws scraping against the stone walls with a shrill screech, muttering feverishly about "stooonesss" and "nevvva give..."

The lantern flickered violently in Ace’s trembling hand, throwing monstrous shadows against the walls.

Yue didn’t flinch. Her silver gaze sharpened, the faint embers of her hidden power stirring within her.

Think, Yue. Fast.
They couldn't beat it in a straight fight, not without knowing its strengths or weaknesses.

They needed a plan. And they needed it now.

Before Yue could even piece together a strategy, Deuce suddenly lunged forward, holding out his magic pen. The gem at the tip gleamed brightly as he began casting a spell, reckless determination flashing in his eyes.

"You absolute idiot-!" Yue hissed under her breath, but it was too late to stop him.

With Deuce charging in, the others had no choice but to leap into action. Grim and Ace scrambled to follow, firing off bursts of magic at the looming monster.

The creature let out a furious, guttural roar, its ink-cracked form absorbing the blows like raindrops on stone.

"Begone! Begone! Begooooone!" the monster bellowed, swinging its massive, distorted arms in a wild frenzy.

"Bwaah!" Deuce yelped, narrowly dodging a strike.

Ace cursed under his breath. "Aw, crap! He's got Loosey-Deucey on the ropes! Not on my watch!" Without thinking, Ace lunged forward, firing off a quick blast of magic. It struck the creature's shoulder, making it stumble for half a second, but it wasn’t enough. The monster retaliated with a vicious swipe.

Ace’s eyes widened as the hit connected, sending him hurtling backward, right into Yue.

With an effortless pivot, Yue caught him midair, her arms hooking under his knees and back in a perfect, if accidental, bridal carry.

Ace flushed bright red. "Seriously?! Put me down!!"

Yue smirked as she set him down, gracefully enough to preserve his fragile dignity, but not without a teasing glint in her eye.

Meanwhile, Grim darted around frantically, tossing fireballs that fizzled uselessly against the monster's oily skin.

"Myaaah! It's like nothin' even hurts it!" Grim wailed, his tail puffed out in terror.

As Yue steadied herself again, her sharp gaze caught something, a glimmer of light behind the monster, half-buried in the rubble.

"Huh?" she muttered under her breath.

Ace followed her line of sight and stiffened. "Behind the monster! There's something sparkling in the mineshaft!"

Deuce's eyes lit up with reckless hope. "Could that be a magestone?!"

"Stoooonesss... Nooo giiive yooouuu stooooone!" the monster howled, the crack in its ink-bottle head oozing thicker streams of shadow as it lurched forward with renewed ferocity.

Yue noticed Deuce bracing himself to rush in blindly again. Tch, how predictable.

Before he could even take two steps, Yue grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him hard, tossing him toward Ace like a sack of flour.

"Hey-!" Ace grunted as he caught Deuce, staggering a few feet under the momentum.

Yue shot them both a glare, her voice sharp with authority. "I know you're reckless, but don't gamble with your life like that!"

Grim skidded up beside them, eyes wide with panic. "Yuu! We gotta book it, and fast! That thing's gonna pound us into tuna paste!"

Yue didn't miss a beat. "YOU DON’T SAY?!" she snapped back with dry sarcasm.

Without wasting another second, she swung her rusty pole with all her strength, slamming it into the creature’s side. The blow wasn't enough to fell it, but it staggered, crashing heavily against the mine wall and sending a shower of loose stones cascading down.

"Retreat, now!" Yue barked.

This time, no one argued. Grim, Ace, and Deuce bolted after her without hesitation, racing deeper into the mine as the monster's furious roar echoed after them, shaking the very walls around them.

Yue ran at the front, mind working furiously.
This isn’t over.

The four of them stumbled out of the mine shaft, the cold night air slamming into them like a wall of ice. Ace collapsed first, dropping onto his knees, gasping like a fish out of water. Grim flopped onto his back dramatically, paws splayed out like a starfish. Deuce leaned against the rock wall, chest heaving, trying and failing, to look tougher than he felt.

Yue wiped her forehead with her sleeve, her breath steadying faster than the others. Compared to the rest, she was almost unnervingly composed, though a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. She leaned her shoulder against the rough rock, silver eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

The monster’s distorted form still burned fresh in her mind, the way it flickered, the strange dissonance in the air around it. Not a normal ghost. Not a simple curse. Something far older, more deliberate.
Her fingers itched for a piece of charcoal and paper, to map out the patterns she noticed.
But not now. Not while the others were still flailing.

"Remember, Yue," her shisho’s voice whispered in her memory, a calm anchor in the chaos, "if you feel yourself slipping, retreat. There’s no shame in it. Adrenaline clouds the mind. Fresh air clears it. Only with a clear mind can you see the moves you missed before."

She closed her eyes briefly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. The sharpness of the night air cooled the lingering heat in her veins, sharpening her thoughts like a blade on a whetstone.

Grim was the first to speak, his voice trembling slightly. "This... this should be far enough, right?"

Ace flopped onto his back beside him, arms spread wide. "I don't even care. I'm dead. Leave me here. Bury me right here under this stupid rock."

Deuce wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "That thing wasn’t normal... Not like the ones in class. This one's wrong. Creepy."

"No kidding," Ace grumbled. "That wasn’t a ghost. That was a full-on murder nightmare from hell. Nobody said anything about that! Where’s the fine print on the death waiver, huh?!"

Grim, trying to look tough despite shivering, added, "I-I bet it's super rare! Like, ultra mega death boss rare!"

"Fantastic," Ace deadpanned. "I'm honored to be mauled by a collector’s edition horror."

Deuce straightened, squaring his shoulders. "We can't just give up! The stone’s still inside!"

Ace rolled his eyes so hard Yue could practically hear them clatter in his skull. "Oh yeah, sure. March back in there and get eaten alive. Genius idea, Deuce. 10/10. No notes."

"I'd rather die than get expelled!" Deuce barked, fists clenched. "Night Raven is everything!"

Ace pushed himself up, jabbing a finger at him. "Yeah? You will die if you go back in there like some kind of brainless meat shield!"

Deuce shoved his finger aside. "Better than living as a coward!"

"Better a coward than monster chow!"

"CHICKEN!"

"MEATHEAD!"

Grim cackled nervously between them, enjoying the spectacle far more than he should have. "Ooooh, fight, fight, fight! Maybe the monster'll come finish ya both off!"

Their argument escalated, voices bouncing off the stone walls, loud enough that Yue half-wondered if they were trying to summon the monster back by sheer stupidity alone.

Her patience, already paper-thin, snapped.

Without raising her voice, without even a hint of outward anger, Yue pulled her hand down her face in a slow, deliberate motion and spoke, voice low, sharp, and ice-cold:
"Enough."

The word cut sharper than a shout. The bickering slammed into silence.
Both Ace and Deuce froze mid-squabble, instinctively straightening like scolded puppies.

Even Grim shuffled a few steps behind a rock, peeking out with wide eyes.
"Uhh... Deuce? Henchman’s scary when she's mad. Like, seriously scary. Like, scarier than the monster."

Deuce coughed awkwardly into his fist. "S-sorry, Yuu... lost my temper..."

Yue exhaled slowly, tilting her head back to gaze at the endless, glittering night sky.
When she lowered her head again, her silver eyes ever so calm, so cold, pinned Deuce like a butterfly to a board.

"Deuce," she said quietly, "I know why you're pushing yourself. You want your mother to be proud of you."
Her tone was not mocking. It was a blade wrapped in silk, cutting, but honest.

"But," she continued, stepping forward, "if you die here, she won't have a son to be proud of. Only a grave to visit."

The words were brutal in their simplicity, yet Yue delivered them with the cool detachment of someone who knew that comfort and survival did not always walk hand in hand.

Deuce swallowed thickly. His face crumpled for a moment before he pulled it back together, pressing his fist against his heart in silent acknowledgment.

Ace muttered under his breath, "Yeesh. No mercy."

Yue flicked a cool glance his way.
"Same goes for you, Ace," she said. "Panic makes poor decisions. Poor decisions get you killed."

Ace immediately held up his hands in surrender, grinning nervously. "Nooo problem here, mastermind! I love living! Big fan of breathing!"

Yue's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she turned back toward the mine shaft, thoughtful.

The cold still hung heavy around them, and the air was thick with exhaustion, but Grim, ever the optimist when it came to violence, suddenly perked up.
"Hey, can't you guys just blow that thing up with magic or somethin’?" he demanded, waving his paws dramatically.

Deuce shook his head, wiping soot off his cheek.
"The Headmaster said it himself… magic has limits." His voice was firm, almost quoting directly from a lecture. "If you can't clearly visualize your spell, it isn't going to happen. And the bigger or more complicated the magic, the harder it gets. That kind of control takes training."

Ace flopped against a rock, arms crossed. "Yeah, that’s why we have magic academies, genius. You can't just snap your fingers and boom, instant monster slaying. It’s a whole thing. You get flustered, you screw up. Real fast."

Yue, listening quietly, tilted her head slightly. The information slotted neatly into the mental notes she was compiling.
Hmm. Different structure than home. Visualization-based... less dependent on the world's leyline flow?
It was interesting, in a detached way, like comparing different styles of swordplay.

Still, she couldn't resist.

"So," Yue said innocently, her silver eyes gleaming, "that's why Grim can only summon fire."

Grim's fur puffed up instantly, his tail bristling like a bottle brush.
"HEY! I’m just getting started, alright? I’m gonna learn WAY cooler magic than that! You'll see! I'll be, like, a fire-breathing, ice-freezing, thunder-zapping king of magic someday!"

Ace snickered under his breath. Deuce gave a polite, if skeptical, little cough.

Yue smiled faintly, a hand resting under her chin in thought.
She turned back to Ace, curiosity glinting in her gaze.
"I assume spellcasting came naturally to you guys?"

Ace shook his head immediately, letting out a laugh.
"Nope. Takes forever. Unless the magic’s, like, your natural specialty, you're stuck grinding like the rest of us. If it is your thing, it feels easier... more intuitive, y'know?"

Yue hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a finger.
"Hmmm... so the principle's the same, no matter where you go. Practice, affinity, and a lot of patience."
She shifted into a classic 'thinking pose', arms folded, one hand supporting her chin, eyes half-lidded in contemplation.
It made her look weirdly like a tiny, serious professor puzzling through an equation.

Ace, watching her, shook his head in disbelief.
"Man, you sure are way too calm about all this. I mean, monster jumps us outta nowhere, we're running for our lives, and you’re just... what? Cool as ice the whole time?"

Yue blinked, almost surprised by the observation. She tilted her head at him, expression mild.
"I've been through worse than this."

Ace gawked. "Worse than an inky-headed mine monster?! We almost got turned into jam, lady!"

Deuce nodded fervently. "It was horrifying! I thought Grim was gonna faint-"

"Hey!!" Grim squawked.

Yue simply shrugged, the motion loose and unbothered.
"That monster’s nothing compared to some of the things back in my world. If I knew its weakness, I could’ve ended it already."
She said it casually, like commenting on the weather, and then immediately stiffened.
Ah.

Ace and Deuce both froze mid-breath.

Grim was the first to blurt it out.
"Wait. Your world?!"

Deuce leaned in, eyes wide. "Hold on, what do you mean by ‘your world’?"

Ace pointed accusingly at her, his mouth hanging open. "Y-you’re not from around here?! Like, not from Twisted Wonderland not-around-here?!"

Yue, realizing she'd accidentally cracked open a whole can of cosmic worms, blinked once, slowly.
Then she gave them a perfectly calm, utterly shameless smile.
"Ah. Was I... not supposed to share that information?"

The three boys continued staring at her like she’d grown a second head.

"Oops," she said, voice flat and absolutely not sorry.
"Well. In that case, I’m blaming everything on Headmaster Crowley."

"Wait, wait, WAIT," Ace stammered, throwing up his hands. "Back up! You're from another world?! Like, another PLANET? Dimension? How many other-worlds are there?!"

Deuce looked equally panicked. "Is this normal?! Should we get the Headmaster?! Should we not get the Headmaster?! Is there, like, a protocol for this?!"

Grim, meanwhile, was vibrating with excitement.
"DOES THAT MEAN YOU GOT WEIRD COOL POWERS?! Like, interdimensional cosmic laser cannons?!"

Yue tapped her chin again, pretending to seriously consider it.
"Not cosmic lasers specifically," she mused, "but close enough."

Ace buried his face in his hands. "I'm not paid enough for this."

"You don't even get paid," Deuce said helpfully.

"EXACTLY!"

Yue just chuckled under her breath, the sound soft and oddly warm compared to her usual deadpan calm.
Maybe it was the sheer absurdity of it all. Maybe it was just... nice, in a weird way, to not have to hide every piece of herself for once.

She let them stew a little longer, then added, almost cheerfully:
"Don't worry. I'm not planning on unleashing world-ending doom. Probably."

"PROBABLY?!" they all shouted in unison.

Yue smiled, utterly unbothered.
"Focus on the monster first," she said breezily. "Existential crises can come after breakfast."

Deuce, still visibly rattled from Yue’s earlier casual world-hopping confession, shook his head and forcibly dragged the conversation back to reality.
"Anyway," he said, voice tight with urgency, "we need to find a way to defeat that creature and get the magestone back. Before things get even worse."

Ace groaned, tossing a rock half-heartedly into the dirt.
"Yeahhh, sure. Just like the time with the chandelier, huh? You 'found some way' then too, and look where that got us." He jabbed a thumb back toward the mine shaft they'd just scrambled out of, face deadpan.
"We fought that thing, Deuce. It creamed us. So unless you’ve suddenly developed genius-level strategic skills, I don’t exactly trust you to ‘improvise’ again."

Deuce stiffened, outrage practically vibrating off him.
"What?! You're the one who-"

Grim dramatically threw up his paws. "Aaand they're at it again."

Yue, exhausted by the endless bickering, pinched the bridge of her nose with a slow exhale.
Honestly, at this point, it felt like babysitting two particularly stubborn puppies who hadn't realized the house was on fire.
Without looking at them, she muttered flatly, "I guess you guys can just get expelled, then."

Ace and Deuce both snapped toward her at once.

"WHAT?!" they yelped in unison.

Grim whistled low. "Whoa. Harsh. Where’d that come from?"

Yue straightened, fixing them both with an utterly unimpressed stare.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her voice cool and even.
"If we don’t work together, we’re dead. No magestone, no mission, and a one-way ticket to expulsion."

Ace sputtered, clearly scandalized. "‘Work together’... Is that some kinda joke?"

He jabbed a thumb toward Deuce, making an exaggerated face.
"You always say the lamest things with the straightest face, Yuu. You seriously expect me to team up with Loosey-Deucey over there? He'd get me killed!"

Deuce bristled, glaring at Ace.
"Like it’d be some treat for me either! I’d rather fight the monster alone than depend on you!"

Yue watched the two of them, bickering like children, and decided she was far too tired for this.
Without missing a beat, she turned away from them and said blandly, "We need to come up with an actual plan. Preferably one where you two don’t get each other eaten in the first five minutes."

Ace gawked at her like she'd suggested they kiss or something.
"A proper plan? Like, like some kinda cheesy buddy move? Are you serious?!"

Deuce crossed his arms stiffly. "Yeah, agreed. No way could I work with him."

Yue tilted her head slightly, smiling sweetly, which somehow felt way more threatening.
"Then by all means," she said serenely, "feel free to get expelled."

The words hung in the air like a guillotine.

Grim rubbed the back of his head, looking conflicted.
"Y'know... gettin' expelled on the first day would be, uh... pretty lame. Maybe even lamer than losing to a monster."

Ace opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Deuce stared at the ground, shoulders stiff.

Yue arched an eyebrow at them, her silver gaze gleaming with silent amusement.
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, savoring the silence stretching between them.

"What’s wrong?" she asked innocently. "Cat got your tongue?"

The two boys squirmed, exchanging glances like trapped animals.

Finally, Ace let out a long, suffering sigh.
"...Fine. Temporary truce."

Deuce grunted reluctantly. "Only until we get the magestone."

Grim clapped his paws together enthusiastically. "That's the spirit! Now let's blow up that monster already!"

Yue allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
Sometimes, all it took was the right amount of passive-aggressive encouragement.

Still, internally, she was already running through possibilities.
That monster wasn’t just some random beast, it had been created by something. And creatures like that never guarded magestones by coincidence.
Hmm. Distraction first, weaken it, then find the core.
She'd have to handle this carefully if she didn’t want the whole mine collapsing on them.

But outwardly, Yue just gave a soft hum, turning toward the mine entrance with a cool, almost lazy air.
"Then let’s get moving," she said, her voice as steady as ever.
"We don't have all day."

As they made their way back toward the mine entrance, Yue called for a quick huddle, halting the group with a small wave of her hand.

She crouched slightly, drawing a rough sketch in the dirt with a stick, a wobbly circle for the monster, scattered marks for the magestones.
"Listen carefully," she said, her tone level but firm, "the monster’s body is slow, sluggish, even. Did you notice how it was dragging itself around?"

Ace squinted at her impromptu doodle. Deuce leaned in seriously. Grim... looked like he was two seconds from wandering off before Yue snapped her fingers in his face.

"It’s heavy," she continued, tapping the stick against the monster doodle. "The way it moves — it's like it's weighed down by its own body mass. Which means... it's bad at reacting quickly."

Grim's ears perked up. Ace tilted his head, intrigued. Deuce nodded along slowly.

"We're going to use that to our advantage," Yue said, straightening up.
"We’ll take turns firing spells at it. Keep it confused. Distracted. I'll stay back and give the cue for who moves and when."

She pointed back at the direction of the magestones that the monster was guarding.
"We need to lure it away from there. Once it’s distracted enough, one of us can slip in and grab the magestone while it’s focused elsewhere."

Ace gave a low whistle. "Whoa. You actually thought that through."

Yue simply gave a small shrug, as if planning quick monster heists was something she did every Tuesday.

Grim, however, shuffled his paws nervously.
"Yuu... Are you sure this plan’s gonna work? 'Cause, uh... I'm not scared or anything! Just... y'know... suddenly feeling kinda... hungry!"

He gave a half-hearted laugh that fooled no one.

Ace snickered. "Heh. Real inspiring, Grim. ‘Course, you eating rocks would probably scare that thing off faster than anything else."

He stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders with a grin.
"Whatever! Gotta keep it loose, keep it lively, right? Let’s go mess it up!"

Deuce straightened, clenching his fists with determined energy.
"It could really work. I’m ready whenever you are, Yuu!"

Yue let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
They're trusting me with this...
It was strange. Nice, even.

Still, she couldn't help the small prickle of nerves crawling up her spine.
She hoped the plan would work. It should, logically, she’d sized up the monster, calculated its weaknesses. But fights were unpredictable. Especially against something so unnatural.
If things spiraled out of control... she might have no choice but to jump in personally.

Yeah... Let's not jinx it, she thought, shaking her head slightly.

Straightening up, she jabbed the stick into the ground with finality and gave the boys and Grim a calm, determined nod.
"Alright. Everyone ready?"

Ace twirled his wand with a cocky grin. "Born ready."

Deuce gave a sharp, confident nod. "Let’s do this!"

Grim... still looked like he’d rather be napping, but he forced a brave grin anyway. "Y-Yeah! Leave it to me!"

Yue turned toward the dark mouth of the mine where the faint glow of magestones flickered.
"Then move on my signal," she said quietly, a steely glint flashing in her silver eyes.
"And whatever you do, don’t stop moving."

With that, she took the lead, her heart steady even as adrenaline buzzed at the edges of her mind.
This wasn’t the first monster she faced. And if she had anything to say about it, it wouldn't be the last either.

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

Yue stood at the front, rusted pole clenched tightly in her hands, her silver eyes cool and focused.
Without missing a beat, she began barking out commands with the sharp precision of a seasoned soldier.

"Grim, draw its attention! Ace, Deuce, be ready to move on my signal."

Grim gulped, his tail fluffing up, but he puffed out his chest and scampered forward.
"H-Hey! Monster! I'm, uh... I'm over here!" he called, voice cracking slightly.

The creature twisted its grotesque form toward him, its watery mass rippling with every sluggish movement.
It let out a guttural roar that shook the ground beneath their feet.
"GRRRAAAWRR! BEGOOOONE!"

Grim flinched, stumbling back.
"He’s comin’ our way, Yuu" he yelped.

Yue didn’t even blink. She slammed the butt of her staff against the rocky ground with a sharp crack, sending a small shockwave through the air.
"Right here, you inky bastard!" she barked, voice cutting clear across the battlefield. "Grim, that's far enough! Fall back!"

The monster hesitated, its milky eyes swiveling toward Yue, drool-like ichor dripping from its misshapen jaw.
"Grurgh...? THIEEF... THIS WAY... NEVER GIVE STONES... NEVER!" it bellowed, lumbering toward her now.

Grim scampered back with an undignified squeak.
"Eep! If that thing lands even one punch, we're gonna be pancakes!"

"Then don’t get hit," Yue said flatly, her expression unreadable as she side-stepped a swinging, sluggish swipe.
"Focus. We need to lure it farther from the cave. Keep moving!"

The monster bellowed again, louder and angrier.
"BEGONE! BEGOOOOOOONE!"

They darted through the jagged stone terrain, weaving between boulders and uneven ground, the monster dragging itself after them like a bloated leviathan.

Grim panted, his paws barely keeping pace.
"We got him a good distance away from the mine now!"

Good. Exactly as planned.

Yue allowed a small, rare grin to flash across her face.
"Perfect. We're counting on you guys!"

Ace gave a mock salute, flashing a cocky grin.
"You bet. Time to turn up the heat!" He spun his wand once, then pointed it at the monster.
"One extra-large gust of wind, comin’ right up!"

Grim, picking up the cue, puffed out his chest and unleashed a blast of fire.
"With a side of Grim’s blazin’-hot fire! Myaaah!"

The wind whipped the flames into a furious cyclone, spiraling high into the air before crashing down onto the creature.

The monster shrieked, staggering backward under the assault.
"GRRAAAAHHH?!"

Ace smirked, his jacket whipping around him dramatically.
"How’s that taste?! With my winds fanning them, even Grim’s feeble little flames can become an inferno!"

Grim snapped his head toward him, eyes wide with outrage.
"FE-Feeble?! I’ll have you know my flames are ferocious, you mop-headed twig! You’re the one who’s-"

"Focus," Yue cut in sharply, her tone brooking no argument.

Ace and Grim instantly snapped their mouths shut, grimacing but falling back into formation.

Yue’s gaze flickered back to the monster.
The flaming tornado continued to rage around it, forcing it to reel and stumble back. Its once menacing posture was now riddled with fear.

Her heart quickened, not from panic, but excitement.
It’s working.

"The monster's afraid!" Yue announced, her voice carrying clearly over the roaring fire and wind. "Now’s our chance, move!"

Deuce tightened his grip on his wand, forcing himself to stay calm even as adrenaline surged through his veins.

"Just stay cool... Aim carefully..." he muttered under his breath. "And pull out the biggest, heaviest thing I can think of... Get 'em cauldron!"

With a loud CRASH, a massive iron cauldron materialized out of thin air, plummeting onto the monster’s head like a hammer from the heavens.

The creature let out a strangled squawk.
"Gwaaah?!"

Grim pumped his paws in the air, his voice ringing out in excitement.
"NAILED it! Look, Yuu! The monster got flattened just like Ace did back with the chandelier!"

Ace let out a groan, shooting Grim an exasperated glare.
"Coulda done without the reminder, thanks. I swear, this day’s been one sucker punch after another."

But Deuce, to his credit, stayed focused.
"Quick! While it's distracted, we need to grab the magestone!"

Yue’s sharp gaze darted to the monster’s side, a faint glimmer was visible near the creature’s twisted limbs.
There it was, a jewel that shimmered with a mesmerizing blend of deep blues and purples, cut in an intricate, almost otherworldly pattern.

"That’s it!" Deuce cried out, heart hammering in his chest as he dashed forward. "That’s the magestone!"

The monster shuddered violently, a howl ripping from its throat as it clawed at the ground, trying to pull itself free from under the heavy cauldron.
"GUH?! WAAAIT! NOOOOOOO!" it wailed, desperation dripping from every syllable.

Ace’s grin faltered slightly.
"Uh-oh! It's wriggling loose!"

Grim waved his paws frantically.
"Hey, Deuce! You gotta pile on more weight or we're toast!"

Deuce’s mind blanked for a second, and then panic-fueled inspiration struck.
"Uh—something heavier?! I-I summon... another cauldron! And another one! AND another one on top of that! ALL the cauldrons!"

One after another, heavy black cauldrons rained down, clanging and bouncing with resounding thuds before pinning the monster completely under their combined weight.

Yue, watching the scene unfold from a safe distance, blinked slowly, her face the very picture of disbelief.

Really? His grand strategy was just... more cauldrons?
She sighed through her nose, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Simple-minded, but surprisingly effective. I’ll take it.

The monster howled again, writhing futilely under the avalanche of cookware.
"NNNGAAAAH! MY STONE! DON'T TAKE MY STONE!"

Ace crossed his arms and shot Deuce a look.
"Seriously, is summoning cauldrons the only move you know?!"

Deuce, red-faced and bristling, snapped back,
"Pipe down! I’m working with what I got, okay?!"

Meanwhile, Grim had scampered over to where Deuce held the shimmering magestone tightly in both hands.
"We got it!" Grim whooped. "Now let’s hightail it outta here before that thing busts loose!"

Ace gave a sharp nod.
"Roger that! Move, move, move!"

The team turned on their heels, sprinting back toward the cavern entrance as the monster’s agonized roar echoed behind them, rattling the very walls.

"MY STOOOOOONEEEE!!!"

Yue brought up the rear, her staff ready just in case the creature managed to catch up.
Even though her expression stayed composed, there was a spark of fierce satisfaction burning in her chest.
Good. We’re almost out. One step closer.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated from here.

Ace’s voice rang out in panic as he glanced over his shoulder, wide-eyed. “Are you kiddin’ me?! It’s still coming! It just shook off all that weight!”

The creature howled, its bloated form twisting grotesquely as it lurched forward with unnatural speed.
"Ooooooooogh...! Giiiive it baaaaack...!" it moaned, its voice a wet, broken gurgle.

Deuce cursed under his breath. “It’s too fast! It’s about to catch us!”

Yue narrowed her silver eyes, their color flashing faintly under the tense moonlight. She could already feel it, this wasn’t over, not while they still held what the monster was desperately clinging to. Her black hair, as dark as the night itself, rippled behind her as she ran.

"Figures," she thought grimly, her grip tightening around her pole. "With the thing it’s protecting in our hands, of course it’s going to chase us down."

Grim screeched, stumbling alongside them. “Mwahhh! I did not sign up for this!”

A sharp memory flickered through Yue's mind: her master’s voice, cold and relentless, “He’s still a threat until he’s dead.”
Another lesson she could never forget, no matter how far she ran.

"So are we," Yue muttered under her breath.

Without hesitation, Yue dug her heels into the dirt, skidding to a sharp stop. Spinning her pole in a quick flourish, she turned to face the incoming threat, a quiet calm settling over her. "Guess we got no choice," she said, her voice steady. "It’s either kill... or get killed."

Ace glanced at her, then cracked a cocky grin. “Aw, fine! Let’s just smash the thing! Try not to wet yourself, Deucey!”

Deuce barked back, "Same to you, Ace!"

Grim bared his teeth, his fur puffing up. "I'm gonna show ya why they call me Grim the Great!"

Spells began flying, lighting up the darkened ruins with bursts of fire, lightning, and ice. They poured everything they had into the monster, desperation sharpening every strike. Yue hung back at first, watching, calculating.
Their attacks were hitting, but exhaustion was catching up to them fast. Their movements were slower. Their spells were weaker.

"They're burning out," Yue thought, frowning. "If this keeps up, they're the ones who'll fall first."

She didn’t hesitate.

In a fluid motion, Yue surged forward, a glint of gold flashing briefly across her silver eyes, so faint it could have been a trick of the broken light, but powerful enough to stir the air around her.

The monster roared and swung a massive, inky pickaxe down at her.

"Too slow." Yue darted sideways, her body moving with a dancer’s grace. The pickaxe slammed into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust and broken stone. Seizing the opportunity, Yue sprinted up the haft of the weapon, parkouring with ease along its surface. Her heart beat steady. Her mind was sharp.

As she vaulted high above the monster’s head, Yue’s pole spun through the air, gathering momentum. For a heartbeat, she was nothing but a shadow against the moon.

“This ends now,” she said, her voice ringing clear.

The pole came down with a sharp, decisive crack. The end of the weapon connected with the creature’s phial-shaped head in a deafening crack. The force of the blow reverberated through her arms as the monster’s form fractured violently. The monster let out a final, broken shriek before collapsing to the ground with a deafening thud.

Yue landed lightly in a crouch, dust and debris swirling around her boots. She rose slowly, pole held loosely at her side, and approached the twitching corpse. Her silver eyes, calm and unblinking, watched for any sign of lingering life. Her instincts told her to be sure.

Kneeling down, Yue placed one hand gently on the monster's cracked head, feeling the last of its corrupted magic unravel.

Only then did she whisper, soft enough that only the fading soul could hear, “May the moonshine guide you.”

The monster's body began to dissolve, breaking apart into shimmering motes of light and drifting into the night sky—free, at last, from whatever curse had bound it.

Yue stood, her expression unreadable. She turned back to her exhausted companions, her black hair fluttering in the quiet aftermath, silver eyes reflecting the scattered moonlight.

Inside, a part of her ached.
Another life lost to darkness. Another enemy who might’ve been something else, if fate had been kinder.

But she buried the thought deep. There would be time for mourning later. For now, they had survived, and that would have to be enough.

She spun her pole once more and rested it across her shoulders.

Ace, Deuce, and Grim stood there, gasping for air, bent over with hands on their knees. Their wide eyes flicked toward Yue, a mix of disbelief, amazement, and overwhelming relief shining across their faces.

Ace spoke first, his voice cracking slightly. "It’s... over?"

Grim wobbled on his paws, his tail puffed up like a bottle brush. "I think... we won? Yeah, we did it!"

Deuce straightened up, punching the air with a rare, genuine grin. "All right!"

Ace whooped, throwing his arms up. "Woohoo! We're alive, baby!"

Grim, unable to contain himself, bounced toward Ace and Deuce, holding up his paw eagerly. "Gimme a victory high-five!"

Without much hesitation, the trio clumsily slapped their hands and paw together, laughing breathlessly in their own chaotic way.

A small scoff escaped Yue before she could help herself. She leaned casually on her pole, a wry smile tugging at her lips as she watched them celebrate like overexcited puppies.
"And these were the guys who thought teamwork was lame," she thought, rolling her silver eyes fondly.

"Shared adversity sure brings people together, huh?" she teased, her tone light, almost playful.

Deuce flushed slightly, scratching the back of his head. "Uh... I don't think that had anything to do with it."

Ace waved a hand dismissively, trying to salvage whatever scraps of coolness he had left. "Yeah, yeah! Spare us the clichés, Yuu!"

Grim puffed out his chest dramatically. "There's no 'together' here! We won 'cause of me! This was all thanks to me bein' a magical genius!"

Yue chuckled softly, twirling her pole lazily in her hand. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, O Great and Mighty Grim."

Grim beamed proudly, completely missing the sarcasm.

Ace shot Yue a sideways glance, then grumbled under his breath, "Y'know... I hate to admit it, but..." He jammed his hands into his pockets and kicked a loose stone. "We mostly won because of your plan."

Deuce nodded, a little more sincere. "Yeah... if you hadn't kept your cool and barked out orders, we would've been ink smears back there. We didn’t even have a second to think." He gave a half-awkward, half-grateful smile. "Thanks, Yuu. Seriously. I... probably would've gotten expelled if we failed this."

Ace grumbled, arms crossed. "Tch. And here I thought you were just some cold, bossy know-it-all... Turns out you’re a cold, bossy know-it-all who actually knows what he's doing."

Yue laughed quietly under her breath, shaking her head. "They're trying so hard not to just say 'thank you' like normal people," she mused.

But deep down, their clumsy, roundabout praise warmed her in a way she didn't expect. Her chest felt a little lighter.

She leaned her pole over her shoulders, resting it behind her neck casually. "Well," she said with a small shrug, her black hair shimmering faintly under the moonlight, "I guess it's lucky for you guys that I like lost causes."

Ace huffed, but there was no real bite behind it. "Hey! We ain't lost causes! We're just... selectively victorious!"

Deuce sighed. "That’s not even a thing, Ace..."

Grim jumped up, still full of misplaced energy. "Whatever it is, we rule!"

As the night wind ruffled their clothes and the ruined battlefield fell into a rare, quiet peace, Yue allowed herself a real smile, a small, but genuine.

"Maybe being with them isn’t so bad afterall" she thought.
Just maybe.

Still, the flash of gold that had sparked through her silver eyes lingered at the edge of her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn't quite hear yet.

For now, she pushed it aside.
They had survived, they had the magestone... and for tonight, that was enough.

"Come on," Yue said, already striding ahead. "Let’s get out of here before something worse shows up."

"Hey, wait for us!" Ace, Deuce, and Grim scrambled after her, their laughter echoing through the crumbled ruins under the silent, watchful moon.

As they trudged away from the fallen monster’s remains, Yue glanced back once, her silver eyes scanning the wreckage to make sure it was truly over.
Seeing no sign of movement, she relaxed slightly and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“I’m just glad no one got hurt too badly," Yue said, voice low but sincere. Her fingers flexed slightly around her rusted pole, feeling the lingering hum of spent magic still buzzing in her veins.

Ace, dragging his feet dramatically, threw his hands in the air. "Yeah, yeah, lessons were learned, yadda yadda. Can we just go home already? I'm wiped."

Grim groaned loudly, his ears drooping. "Ughhh, usin' all that magic made me starving!" He sniffed the air dramatically. "Huh? What’s this?"

Deuce, who was trailing a few steps behind, frowned as Grim scampered over to something lying in the rubble. It glinted oddly under the faint moonlight, a jagged shard, black as coal.
Grim pawed at it, then leaned in, giving it a hearty sniff.

"Is that... a part of the monster we just beat?" Deuce asked, squinting. "It kinda looks like a magestone... but I’ve never seen one that color before."

Yue's brows knitted together in concern. A magestone that black? Something about it made her skin prickle uneasily.

Before she could voice her warning, Grim grinned wide, his tail wagging excitedly.
"What IS this? It smells amazing!"

Ace recoiled like Grim had just licked a puddle. "Are you insane?! You’re sniffin’ some cursed monster rock!"

"It’s gotta be some kinda fancy monster candy it was hidin’ from us!" Grim declared proudly. "And if it tastes half as good as it smells-"

Without a shred of hesitation, Grim opened his mouth and chomped right down on the mysterious black stone.

Time seemed to freeze.

Yue's mind short-circuited for a solid two seconds, a full-blown, system error screen flashing across her thoughts.
Her mouth dropped open slightly before she managed to sputter, "DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST EAT THAT?!"

Grim blinked at her innocently, still chewing.

"Spit it out!" Yue snapped, lunging forward, letting go of the rusted pole and flailing her hands at him like he was a cat caught stealing food off a counter. "Out! Out! Bad cat!"

Ace doubled over laughing, barely able to breathe. "Pffft- Oh man, his face-!"

Even Deuce cracked a crooked smile, watching Yue desperately try to wrestle some sense into the gremlin beast. 

Grim doubled over, groaning loudly. "Oooogh... Urrrgh..." His face twisted in a pained grimace, then abruptly lit up in pure bliss. "That... was AMAZING!"

Ace, Deuce, and Yue all stared at him, their voices overlapping in disbelief.
"What?!"

Grim straightened up, eyes sparkling as if he'd tasted heaven itself. "Rich in flavor and full-bodied... Like sweet, fragrant flowers burstin' into bloom on my tongue! A whole field of 'em! Right in my mouth!"

Yue blinked, thrown completely off by Grim’s sudden shift into poetic critique.
Where did he even learn words like that? she wondered, baffled.

Ace recoiled with a grimace. "Gross. Monsters must have real weird tastebuds."

Deuce scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "You might be onto something… Most humans don't just pick random junk off the ground and shove it into their mouths."

Yue let out a long-suffering sigh, pushing a hand through her hair. “Monsters really will eat anything, huh,” she muttered under her breath.

Meanwhile, Grim puffed out his chest proudly, wagging his tail. "Myah ha ha ha! Man, was that great! Don't worry about me. I don't have a weak little human stomach like you guys."

Ace rolled his eyes. "Hmph. We'll see how cocky you are when you’re curled up puking later tonight."

Deuce shook his head, rallying them. "Come on, guys. We’ve got bigger things to worry about. We need to get this magestone to the headmaster, before something else happens."

Yue hesitated for a moment, eyeing Grim carefully.
Something still gnawed at the back of her mind, an unease she couldn’t quite name. The way that stone looked, the way it felt... it wasn’t normal.
But Grim looked fine, for now. Energetic, even.

She exhaled quietly, shoving her worry into a box in her head for later.
One crisis at a time.

"Let’s just go before you start licking more suspicious rocks," she muttered, falling into step with the others.

Grim, meanwhile, stubbornly swallowed with a big gulp. "Too late! Already down the hatch!"

Yue stared at him in pure disbelief, arms slack at her sides. "Unbelievable. Out of all the dumb things you could've done tonight..."
She pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling slowly through gritted teeth.
First surviving a monster, now babysitting a magic-stone-chomping maniac... At this rate, I'll have gray hair before going back to my world.

Ace sauntered over, elbowing Deuce lightly. "Hey, you gotta admit... Yue did call most of the shots back there. Kept a cool head, saved our butts."

Deuce nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. He's... kind of scary when he's serious. Like a bossy general... or maybe a villainous mastermind."

Yue arched a brow at them. "I'm right here, you know."

Ace shrugged without a shred of shame. "Yeah, yeah. The point is... you saved us, Yuu. Probably should've said it properly earlier."

Deuce gave a sheepish chuckle. "Even Grim owes you. Y'know, if he doesn't turn into a monster himself after eating that thing."

Grim froze mid-gloat, a slow horror dawning on his face. "W-Wait, what?!"

Yue smirked, crossing her arms. "Actions have consequences, Grim."

The cat-beast let out a terrified wail, spinning in circles and patting his own belly like he could force the stone back up.

Ace and Deuce doubled over laughing again, while Yue simply shook her head, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

"Come on, genius," Yue said, nudging Grim forward with her leg. "Let's get moving before your stomach starts glowing or something."

Together, the ragtag group limped toward the exit of the ruins, the battered magestone clutched safely in Deuce’s hands, and an entirely new, unknown problem now quietly brewing in Grim's gut.

Just another day in her life, Yue thought dryly, her black hair catching the moonlight like a slice of night itself.
And somehow... it was starting to feel almost normal.

As the four of them made their way back, the adrenaline of the battle slowly wore off, replaced by an easy, tired energy. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel, and idle chatter soon filled the air.

"Man... you sure surprised me back there, Yuu," Ace said, breaking the silence first. His voice carried that usual teasing lilt, but there was an edge of genuine admiration underneath.

"Yeah!" Deuce chimed in eagerly, practically bouncing on his heels despite how worn out he looked. "That move you pulled was insane! How do you even balance like that?!"

Yue laughed lightly at their sudden enthusiasm, feeling some of the earlier tension slip from her shoulders. She shrugged, flashing them a faint, almost mischievous smile. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

"Come on, seriously!" Deuce pressed, eyes wide with pure amazement. "You made it look so easy. There's no way a normal person could just do that."

Yue chuckled, her gaze turning a little distant. "Lots of practice," she said simply. "You'd be surprised what you can pull off when you don’t really have a choice."

Ace snorted, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. "Tch. I could totally pull something like that off if I felt like it. I just don't need to show off all the time, y'know?"

Yue raised an eyebrow, giving him the driest look she could muster. "Oh really? You want me to teach you, then? We’ll start with a handstand. Let’s see how long you last before you eat dirt."

Deuce immediately burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. "You’d fall flat on your face in like ten seconds, Ace!"

Ace huffed, looking thoroughly offended. "Ten seconds?! Please. I’ll have you know I’m very athletic. I’d last at least thirty!"

Yue smirked, hands sliding into her pockets casually. "Mmm, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it. Maybe I’ll even time you."

Ace grumbled something under his breath about ‘unfair bias’ while Deuce kept snickering beside him. Even Grim threw in a few smug chuckles.

The easy banter continued for a bit until Ace, looking suspiciously thoughtful, glanced over at Yue again.

"Y’know... earlier," he started, slower this time, "you said something weird. About not being from around here." His eyes narrowed slightly, sharp despite his usual laziness. "You're not from the sticks, are you? You’re not even from this world, right?"

The question hung in the air, heavier than before.

Yue’s smile faltered for just a second before she quickly smoothed it over, her steps not missing a beat.
Persistent little weasel, she thought dryly.

"Wow, would you look at that," she said brightly, ignoring his question entirely, "we're almost at the Mirror Chamber. Let's save the existential talks for when we’re not covered in monster guts and exhaustion."

Deuce blinked. "Wait, really? Already?"

Ace groaned, clearly not satisfied with being dodged. "Hey, don’t think I’m gonna forget about this! I want answers, Yuu!"

"You’ll get your answers," Yue said breezily, waving a hand. "Eventually."

Grim snickered, trotting ahead of them. "Heh, Yuu’s got more secrets than a treasure chest! I kinda like it."

Yue just smiled faintly, her gaze flicking ahead toward the looming silhouette of the NRC.
Some secrets were better left unopened... at least for now.

The moment they stepped into the Chamber of Mirrors, the familiar sound of sharp, clicking footsteps filled the air. Yue didn’t need to look up to know it was Crowley. The Headmaster, impeccably dressed as always, strode toward them with an air of importance, his mask glinting faintly in the dim light.

Sure enough, Headmaster Crowley emerged from the far end of the chamber, his cloak billowing dramatically with every step. Impeccably dressed in his usual flair, gloves spotless, cane gleaming, mask polished to an absurd shine, he looked more like someone arriving for an opera than a man overseeing a school with frequent magical disasters.

His initial glance toward them was casual, dismissive even. Probably expecting another petty student complaint or mischief report. But halfway through his stride, he came to a screeching halt, his heels clicking against the floor like punctuation. He turned on his heel with a practiced flourish, the end of his cape snapping in the air like a flag.

“Oh my seven!” Crowley gasped theatrically, throwing his hands to his masked face as if someone had just told him tuition was free now. “What in the world happened to the three of you? You look like you were tossed into a magical blender! Singed clothes, scuffed shoes, soot on your faces, how could this happen on my watch? My precious students, so bruised and battle-worn!”

Yue lifted her chin slightly, finally meeting his gaze with a calm, unimpressed stare. Her eyes were sharp, the kind that could cut through illusions, and certainly through drama. Her silence said more than any scolding could. Another sigh escaped her lips, slow and deliberate, like the breath of someone desperately holding onto patience.

This is the Headmaster? Really? This is who runs this place? No wonder everything’s a mess.

Beside her, Ace and Deuce exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsure whether they were about to be praised, blamed, or theatrically fainted on.

Then Crowley gasped again, apparently catching up to the realization that they had, in fact, succeeded.

“Wait a moment, don’t tell me… you actually made it to the Dwarfs’ Mine?! Mount Dwarf?!” His voice cracked into disbelief. “You really trekked all the way out there to retrieve the magic stone?! You actually followed through?! I thought for sure you’d give up halfway, get distracted, or fall into a minor pit of despair! Or lava!”

The trio blinked, each of them slowly turning to look at one another in perfect, confused unison.

“Huh?” they said together.

Yue raised an eyebrow, arms folding across her chest. “You assigned us to do it.”

Yue tilted her head at Crowley, her voice dry with a hint of sarcasm. “You really shouldn’t underestimate a group of desperate teenagers.”

Her words hung in the air like a slow, biting wind. Crowley blinked behind his mask, caught off guard.

“I didn’t expect you’d actually do it,” he admitted, chuckling as if this were all part of some harmless school prank. “And certainly never imagined you’d return with a magestone! Goodness, I spent all evening drafting your expulsion papers in advance, very thorough ones, too!”

Grim froze mid-strut, his tail puffing up like a startled raccoon’s. “Are you serious?!” he shrieked. “While we were out there fightin’ some psycho monster, riskin’ life and tail for your shiny stone, you were already writing us off?!”

Ace’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes flared with righteous indignation. “Unbelievable! We were crawling through a mine full of traps, debris, actual monster and ghosts, and you were ready to kick us out?!”

Deuce looked equally appalled. “We barely made it back in one piece!”

Crowley, who had been dramatically mid-gesture again, perhaps ready to spin into another monologue, suddenly froze. His gloved hand hovered in the air like a dancer paused mid-pose.

“…Monster?” he repeated, the word slow, sinking into his tone like a stone dropped in deep water. His whole demeanor shifted, the theatrical air slipping just enough to reveal the glimmer of genuine concern beneath.

Yue's brows lifted just slightly. Finally, something got his attention.

“Yes,” she said, her tone sharpening. “Something was in the mine. Something that shouldn’t have been there.”

Crowley straightened, posture going rigid. “Would you kindly, all of you, come with me and recount this story in full detail?”

There was no further fanfare.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode down the hall, his cape whispering against the floor. The mirrored walls reflected their worn forms as they followed, silent for once. Even Ace and Grim held their tongues.

Yue followed quietly behind them, her thoughts racing faster than her steps. Something had changed in the Headmaster’s eyes. Whatever that thing was in the mine, it wasn’t just an overgrown cave dweller. Crowley had recognized the weight in their words—and that unsettled her more than his usual ridiculous antics.

Whatever came next, she had a feeling this wasn’t over.

They were swiftly ushered into the Headmaster’s office.

The moment the ornate doors to the Headmaster’s office shut behind them, Yue felt her shoulders sag, the tension she'd been carrying all day finally loosening its grip. She slumped onto the nearest velvet-lined sofa without ceremony, legs stretched slightly out, head tilted against the high back. Her entire body ached, muscles sore from dodging falling rocks, adrenaline crashes, and clashing with a monster that had no business existing.

Let the boys talk. She’d earned a minute of silence.

Ace and Deuce, still riding the high of having not died, launched into their retelling with wild gesturing and overlapping voices. Grim, naturally, tried to frame himself as the hero, puffing up his chest and dramatically recounting how he “took the lead.” Yue said nothing, only raised an eyebrow when he exaggerated the part where he supposedly bit into the monster's hide “like a noble beast.”

As the chaos unfolded in front of her, Yue let her gaze wander around the room.

The Headmaster’s office was as dramatic and ostentatious as the man himself. Rich blue carpets sprawled across polished floors, illuminated by the soft glow of hovering candles in golden candelabras. The enormous stained-glass windows behind the desk bathed the chamber in soft hues of indigo and violet.

But what caught her eye most were the potraits.

Just like the ones from the main street, all seven stone figures, the Dorm Founders, one for each Dorm, floated in a circular formation above the center of the room. Their eerie stillness made them seem like silent watchers, suspended mid-judgment. It was the kind of thing meant to impress... or intimidate.

Yue stared at them for a long moment, expression unreadable.

They really go all out in this world, huh?

The clamor of voices gradually died down, and Yue sat up slightly as she noticed Crowley turn toward them, finally done listening.

“Hmmm,” he mused, his masked face thoughtful as he steepled his gloved fingers. “So… a mysterious creature lurking in the depths of the Dwarfs’ Mine. And the four of you, despite your… differences, banded together to defeat it and bring back a magestone?”

Ace scoffed lightly and leaned against the armrest of Yue’s sofa. “I wouldn’t go as far as saying we worked together.”

Deuce nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, it was more like… we just happened to want the same thing at the same time.”

Yue tilted her head, eyes still on the Headmaster. Her voice was low but pointed. “Motivated chaos.”

Crowley turned his gaze on her, but Yue merely crossed one leg over the other, resting her chin on her hand. Her stare was calm, cool, and a little tired.

Let’s see what he makes of this.

Before any of them could react to the Headmaster’s pensive silence, Crowley suddenly let out a loud, choked sob.

Yue blinked. Once. Twice.

“…What,” she said flatly, her tone more confused than concerned.

Crowley threw his arms into the air, dramatically burying his masked face in his gloved hands as he wailed, “Oh, gracious... Ohhh… Ohhhhhhhh!”

The sound echoed off the tall windows and velvet drapes like a haunted opera. Grim recoiled, ears flattened, and hissed under his breath.

“What is this guy’s deal?! Burstin’ into tears in public? At his age?! That’s just embarrassing.”

But Crowley was unfazed by the judgment, too wrapped up in his own emotions to notice. He spun around dramatically, the hem of his cloak fluttering like he was performing on stage.

“In all my decades, no, generations! -of service to this most esteemed academy,” he cried, chest heaving as he staggered back toward his desk, “never, not once,have I seen such a heartfelt display of student unity! The students of Night Raven College… joining hands to face a common enemy!”

Deuce immediately began to panic, flailing his arms in protest. “Whoa! Hold on, no way! I didn’t join hands with anybody! I’d rather fall into a pit!”

Ace looked equally appalled. “Yeah, no. There were no hands involved. Gross. Let’s be clear.”

Then he tilted his head, frowning with mock suspicion. “Wait a minute. ‘Decades’? Just how old are you, Headmaster?”

Yue’s gaze sharpened at that little slip of information. Her expression didn’t change, but her thoughts turned, quietly absorbing the implications.
So people really can have long lifespans in this world… or maybe he’s not human at all.
It was the kind of detail she didn’t ignore.

She looked at the two boys still sputtering over the idea of cooperation and sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
Seriously… how high is the average student’s ego here that “working together” is such a foreign concept?

Crowley, as if he hadn’t just aged himself like a fine bottle of suspicion, recovered with the elegance of a stage actor transitioning scenes. He sat down behind his grand desk, fingers steepling with sudden purpose, eyes gleaming with something more calculating than theatrical.

“And yet,” he said, voice now calm, almost too calm, “would the two of you have made it back here tonight without Yuu-san’s presence?”

The question struck the room like a slap. The playful atmosphere dissolved.

A heavy silence followed. Ace and Deuce shifted awkwardly in place, all their bravado suddenly very far away. They didn’t answer, not immediately. Their glances toward Yue weren’t hostile, but uncertain, humbled even. The reality of what could’ve happened without her there was finally settling in.

Yue met Crowley’s gaze briefly, then rolled her shoulder with a faint wince and gave a lazy shrug. Her voice was cool and dry as she replied:

“It was either that, or we all got expelled… or mauled by the monster.”

Crowley let out a deep sigh, the kind that echoed through the chamber like a tired wind rustling through old curtains. It wasn’t just exasperation this time, there was something else woven into the sound. Something quieter. Reflective. A rare moment of sincerity from the overly theatrical headmaster.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his usual flamboyance dimmed by a rare edge of conviction.

He straightened slightly in his chair, the glint in his eyes sharpening as he focused on the boys seated across from him. “The reason you three managed to coordinate tonight, the reason the two of you aren’t actively strangling each other right now, after everything that happened in those mines…”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over them like fog. “I trust you know exactly who’s responsible for that.”

The silence that followed was awkward and long. Ace shifted in his seat with a huff, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Deuce rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable.

“…Tch,” Ace grumbled, slouching slightly. “Yeah, well… whatever. That doesn’t mean I like admitting it.”

Deuce sighed, relenting with a small nod. “It’s true. Yuu… kinda held us together back there.”

Yue, still perched on the armrest of the plush velvet chair, didn’t say a word. She merely quirked a brow at the two boys, half amused and half unimpressed. She didn’t need their gratitude. She just didn’t want to die in a glowing hell cave with bickering morons.

But then Ace, true to form, couldn’t help tossing something unexpected into the mix.

“Also,” he added, waving a hand casually, “finding out Yuu’s not even from this world? That was a whole other surprise.”

Deuce’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, seriously, Headmaster… are you sure it’s okay for him to be here? I mean, don’t you have some sort of interdimensional protocol or something?”

Yue’s ears perked up slightly at the word him.
Oh? So they assumed I’m a guy. Interesting.
She tilted her head toward the window with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, finding great fascination in the way the moonlight glinted off the floating statues. There was no need to correct them. Let them squirm in ambiguity a little longer.

Crowley’s expression blanked. He blinked once. Then again. Slowly, his head snapped toward Yue, sharply with the motion.

“You told them?!”

Yue turned back to him with the slow, deliberate grace of a cat that had just knocked a glass off a table and didn’t feel even remotely sorry. She offered a lopsided, innocent smile. “It slipped. You never said it was a secret.”

Crowley buried his face in both hands, groaning theatrically. “Unbelievable…”

Yue leaned back with a shrug, unbothered. “Besides, they would’ve found out eventually. I mean… I’m clearly not from around here. I asked what a magestone was.”

Ace raised a hand, helpfully. “Yeah, she doesn’t even know who the Great Sevens are. That kinda gave it away.”

Deuce nodded seriously. “And she also didn’t know Thaumarks is our currency.”

Crowley groaned, dragging a gloved hand down his face as if the very notion of budgetary responsibility aged him another decade.

Deuce, ever the straight-laced one, raised a hand in concern. “But… is it really alright for Yuu to stay in Ramshackle? That place looks like it’s about one strong breeze away from collapsing.”

“Yeah,” Ace chimed in with a frown. “It’s a health hazard. The windows rattle even when there’s no wind.”

Crowley straightened, posture stiffening as if their comments were personally offensive. “I assure you, it is perfectly suitable for Yuu to stay there. After all, I am generous. As Headmaster, it is my noble duty to ensure her well-being.” Then, quieter, almost too soft to hear, he muttered under his breath, “Totally not because we don’t have the budget…”

But unfortunately for him, everyone heard that part loud and clear.

A beat of silence passed before Ace, Deuce, and Grim all turned toward him slowly, expressions painted with varying shades of disappointment and thinly veiled disgust. It was like watching students realize the answer sheet had been blank all along.

Ace leaned toward Yue, voice low. “So that’s why he made you do janitor odd jobs.”

Yue offered a dry smile and popped the final syllable: “Yep.” Then added with casual disdain, “He definitely doesn’t want to get caught doing anything that might make him look like an actual authority figure.”

The others nodded solemnly, a rare moment of unity forged through mutual irritation.

“Speaking of which,” Ace said, glancing sideways at her. “You’re way too chill about all of this, Yuu. Like, out-of-nowhere world-hopping, magic monsters, weird headmaster—none of that phases you?”

Yue shrugged, unfazed. “Panicking won’t help. I’ve already decided to roll with it.”

Deuce blinked at her, clearly impressed and baffled. “I don’t think I could ever be that calm…”

Before the conversation could continue, Crowley loudly cleared his throat and slammed a hand onto his desk with theatrical flair, cutting through the atmosphere like a cymbal crash. He sprang to his feet, his cape flaring dramatically behind him.

“Anyway!” he declared, eyes sparkling as if he’d just had the most brilliant epiphany of the century. “This moment has truly moved me beyond words! This whole incident, this test of courage, camaraderie, and creature conquest, has proven that my trust was not misplaced!”

He pointed toward Yue with dramatic flair. “Yuu-san! no, wait- Yuu-kun! My doubts are allayed! You, my dear, possess the natural instincts and potential of a true beastmaster!”

There was a long pause as his voice echoed into silence.

Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Yue all stared at him.

Blankly.

Not a single thought behind their eyes.

“Haaahhhhhh?!” they all chorused in perfect unison, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and even Yue, though hers was more a quiet, bewildered blink than a full-on outburst.

Beastmaster?

Yue tilted her head slightly, brows knitting in faint confusion. Beastmaster? Where in the moon’s name did that come from? She certainly didn’t recall having any beast-taming powers. Her abilities, if they could even be called that, were tied to the moon, subtle things like heightened awareness, seeing through illusions, occasional prophetic dreams, and an odd affinity for the night sky. Animals did seem unusually friendly toward her, but she chalked that up to being raised among nature. Or maybe it was just the way she moved, quiet and non-threatening.

Wait... some members of my clan were beast tamers, she thought, considering it. But that trait never manifested in me. Or… did it?

Still, she was reasonably confident that being followed around by a grumpy, food-obsessed raccoon-cat didn’t qualify her as a beastmaster.

With practiced calm, she lifted a brow and folded her arms. “Care to elaborate, Headmaster?” Her voice was even, though the edge of dry skepticism in her tone could’ve sliced paper. “Specifically, what you mean by ‘beast taming.’”

Crowley puffed out his chest as if he'd been waiting to be asked just that. “My students,” he began, striking a dramatic pose, “are chosen by the Dark Mirror for their exceptional magical prowess and unique potential. But with great talent comes... excessively inflated egos. Most of them are so self-centered, so intoxicated by their own abilities, that they never even consider teamwork.”

Grim crossed his arms with a snort. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

Crowley gave him a withering look but continued. “But you, Yuu-kun, you have no magic. None whatsoever. And yet, despite that, or perhaps because of it, you were able to get those very same prideful, difficult students to fight together, side by side. That kind of influence, that unifying force... It’s extraordinary.”

Yue squinted slightly, unsure whether she was being praised or roasted alive in backhanded compliments. “So... is that meant to be a compliment, or an insult?”

“Honestly, it sounds like both,” Ace muttered, frowning. “Like, we’re stubborn jerks and you’re super average but somehow inspiring?”

“None of those are good things,” Deuce added, brow furrowed in concern.

But Crowley paid them no mind, his voice rising with a flourish as he carried on, fully swept up in his own monologue. “I am convinced, no, I know, that people like you are necessary for the future of Night Raven College. My educator’s intuition tells me so!” He pointed a finger dramatically at the trio. “Trappola, Spade, I hereby revoke your pending expulsions!”

Ace and Deuce gasped in shock.

But Crowley wasn’t finished.

He turned to Yue with a theatrical gleam in his eye. “And as for you, Yuu-kun… I am officially granting you the qualifications necessary to attend Night Raven College!”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then,

“WHAAAT?!” Ace, Deuce, and Grim yelled, voices overlapping in sheer disbelief.

Yue blinked slowly, as if trying to process whether she heard Crowley correctly or if the absurdity of the situation was finally catching up to her. “Wait… as an actual student?” she echoed, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Didn’t you just say I don’t have magic?”

Crowley, ever the dramatic peacock, clasped his gloved hands together in front of him, his smile gleaming with smug satisfaction. “Why, yes! And it is precisely because I am an extraordinarily benevolent and exceptionally generous headmaster that I am offering you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” He paused, puffing out his chest with theatrical flair. “However,” his voice dropped into a mock-grave tone “-there is a minor condition.”

Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly. Of course there is.

“Since you, unfortunately, lack the ability to perform magic,” he continued, “it would be impossible to enroll you as a full-fledged magician. Traditional curriculum, spellwork, alchemy, it would all be... understandably challenging. I’m sure you understand.”

Yue’s gaze remained flat. “Okay, so what’s the catch?” she asked, voice level, but wary. Her arms folded, one brow quirked up in open suspicion. There’s always a catch with him. Always.

Crowley’s grin stretched wider, and he made a grand sweeping gesture, right at Grim, whose flaming ears twitched at the sudden attention.

“This is where Mister Grim comes in!”

“Me?” Grim squeaked, voice cracking as his usual bluster vanished under the weight of uncertainty. His ears twitched again, this time nervously.

Crowley leaned forward slightly, as if sharing a great secret, his tone now coaxing, almost gentle. “Yes, Mister Grim. I meant what I said: you will be officially recognized as a student of Night Raven College.”

Grim’s pupils widened, his entire body going rigid. “R-Really?” he whispered, as if afraid the moment would vanish if he spoke too loudly.

“Yes,” Crowley replied, nodding solemnly.

“Really, really?” Grim straightened up a little, his tail flicking with tentative hope.

“Yes.” Crowley’s expression was beginning to fray.

“Really, really, really?” Grim’s flames flared with excitement, his voice climbing with every word, eyes sparkling.

Crowley groaned, rubbing his temples. “Oh, for the love of- Do you want me to change my mind and revoke it?!”

“No, no, no! I believe you!” Grim panicked, flailing so hard he nearly launched himself out of Yue’s arms. “I believe you, I promise! I’ll be good, I’ll behave, I’ll be the best student you’ve ever seen!”

The words tumbled out in a giddy rush before his voice caught again. “Myah… I… I’ll get to go to this school…? As an actual student? Not a janitor?!”

“Correct,” Crowley confirmed with a dignified nod. “However! This comes with one non-negotiable condition. There must be no more rampages or dangerous incidents like the one today. Are we clear?”

Grim stood stock still, his paws clutching the fabric of Yue’s robe tightly. He didn’t even try to speak at first, just blinked rapidly, his ears flattening against his head as if he were overwhelmed. “…Myah… Myah… Yuu, I… I finally…”

Yue, softened by the rare sight of Grim’s genuine emotion, crouched down and gently wrapped him in a careful hug. Her voice was quiet, kind. “Isn’t that great, Grim? You finally made it. You’ll get to be a student here, just like you always wanted.”

And with that, the little beast exploded.

“MYAAAAAAAAAAAH! I FINALLY DID IT!”

Yue recoiled instantly, wincing at the sheer volume as Grim screamed directly into her ear. “Okay! Okay! calm down!” she grumbled, quickly pushing him away as she clutched the side of her head. “My ears are still attached, thank you very much.”

Grim danced in place, too ecstatic to notice. “I’m a student! A real student! No more mop duty! No more ‘vermin’ jokes! I’m gonna get respect! A dorm room! Snacks!”

Yue exhaled slowly, watching him with a fond but tired smile. “Stars help me,” she muttered under her breath, “I’ve unleashed a monster.”

Crowley cleared his throat with a flourish, lifting a small ornate box as if he were presenting a royal artifact. “Now then, accordingly, I shall bestow upon Mister Grim his official magestone, as is custom for all enrolled students of Night Raven College!”

Grim practically shimmered with excitement, eyes wide and flames dancing like excited fireworks. “Heh! A magestone, eh?! About time!” he declared, puffing out his chest like he’d been knighted.

Crowley continued with theatrical pride, completely unbothered by the fact that Grim had clearly missed half of what he’d said. “Typically, the magestone is embedded in a magic pen, the tool through which students channel their magic. However…” He leaned forward dramatically, placing a gloved hand to his temple as though struck by divine inspiration. “Given your distinct… anatomical limitations, I took the liberty of commissioning something more appropriate. Is it possible, just possible, that I’m too considerate?”

With a dramatic flick of his wrist, he produced a sleek collar embedded with a glowing magestone. It sparkled faintly with energy, clearly custom-made and surprisingly stylish. Grim gasped.

“MYAH! This thing is awesome! A magestone collar?! Made just for me?! Behold, the legendary archmage Grim in all his glory!”

He struck a pose, tail high and ears twitching proudly, as though expecting applause. The flames on his back flared up like he was announcing his own coronation.

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose with a tired exhale. “You’re not listening to anything, are you?” she muttered under her breath.

Crowley turned on his heel with a flourish, his cloak billowing behind him like he was on stage. He fixed Yue with a pointed look, the corners of his mouth twitching in something between a smile and a smirk.

“Yuu-kun,” he began, tone exaggeratedly formal. “It seems evident that Mister Grim here is rather… unaccustomed to societal norms and rules. It falls upon you, naturally, to ensure he does not devolve into chaos or cause incidents like, oh, I don’t know, this morning’s fire hazard! I am hereby entrusting you to direct him properly. Do you understand?”

Before Yue could respond, Ace burst into laughter, slapping his knee like it was the best joke he’d heard all day. “Oh man, this has gotta be a first! Yuu, you’re already making history! Not even officially a full student yet, and you’re being called a ‘Directing Student’? Talk about a fast track promotion!”

“Wait, a what now?” Yue blinked, her brain catching up a step too late. “A… Directing Student?”

Deuce frowned thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I mean… it kind of makes sense? If Ramshackle Dorm is just you two, and Grim needs someone to keep him from accidentally setting things on fire or getting expelled on day two… Then yeah, that’d make you the one in charge.”

Grim, now adorned with his new magestone collar, chimed in with a wide grin, puffing up his chest. “Naturally! Every powerful mage needs a loyal attendant to follow him around!”

Yue gave him a flat stare. “I’m going to start charging you for babysitting.”

Ace snorted, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. “A Directing Student who can’t even use magic? Honestly, I love it. It’s got such a ridiculous, underdog ring to it. You should get it engraved on a nameplate. Or maybe stitched onto a sash.”

Yue narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sensing you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I live for chaos,” Ace replied smugly.

She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “So what you’re saying is… as a half-student, I now get to attend classes? Like a real one?”

Crowley lit up at the question like she’d just handed him a golden opportunity. “Precisely! A marvelous step forward! You will now participate in classes alongside Mister Grim. A truly momentous occasion!” He paused, then added with suspicious cheer, “Oh, but, about that whole pesky ‘returning home’ issue…”

His grin widened just a hair too much.

“No need to fret! Rest assured, we are most certainly still searching for a way back for you! Absolutely! Without a doubt! So no need to waste any further thought on it!”

Yue’s brow twitched. Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of the Mirror.

Before she could respond with something biting, Ace leaned in close, smirking. “Congrats, Directing Student. Hope you survive your first day.”

Yue looked between Crowley’s performative confidence and Ace’s theatrical sarcasm, and leaned toward the two boys with her voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. “I don’t believe him at all.”

Ace shrugged dramatically. “Come on, he just called you an ‘important asset for the future,’ didn’t he? That’s basically code for ‘You’re stuck here, so deal with it.’”

Then, with an exaggerated bow and flourish, he added, “Just give up and try your best, Lord Directing Student.”

Yue let out a quiet, tired laugh under her breath. “If I go missing, check the school basement first.”

But rather than voice her frustration, Yue simply exhaled and squared her shoulders. “Fine. I’ll take care of him,” she said at last. “But don’t expect me to wear a stupid sash or something.”

“Pfft!” Grim snorted. “As if we’d match! I’ve got style, Yuu. You’d just drag me down!”

Yue gave him a deadpan stare. “You say that while wearing a collar.”

Grim gasped, clutching it dramatically. “This is fashion, thank you!”

Crowley clapped his hands together with exaggerated glee. “Ah, yes! I suppose that does make you a prefect and a Directing Student now, doesn’t it?” he declared, as if he’d just had the thought himself, though the glint in his eye suggested otherwise. “How fortuitous! I just so happen to have a little task for you, ah, I mean, a prestigious responsibility fitting for your new role.”

Yue’s expression immediately turned wary. “That was fast.”

Crowley, ignoring her, reached into the folds of his extravagant robes and pulled out an odd device. “Now, I have something for you! A valuable magical tool, passed down through... well, not generations, exactly, but certainly through years of questionable storage conditions in our archives!”

He handed the item to her with great ceremony.

Yue took it gingerly. It was boxy and metallic, with an ornate lens at the front and glowing runes carved into its sides. She turned it over in her hands, brows furrowed. What in the stars is this supposed to be? Some kind of mechanical eyeball? A tiny magical telescope? The only frame of reference she had came from the memory-crystals her world used to capture moments—gems that could replay light and sound. But this was… chunkier. Almost primitive in design. Or maybe just… different.

“So, like… a painting machine?” she muttered, half to herself, half to the universe. “Or maybe a memory-jewel cousin that got left behind by time?”

Ace peered over her shoulder. “Oh! My grandma told me about those things! That’s, like, super old magic, right? You snap a picture, and it prints an image of what you saw.”

Crowley cleared his throat, straightening his hat indignantly. “Super old is a gross exaggeration. I would hardly consider it ancient!” He paused, then added with a mutter, “Although it may have been invented when your great or great-great grandmother was a child…”

He spun theatrically, the wide sleeves of his robe fluttering with flair. “This, my dear Directing Student, is an Enchanted Ghost Camera! A magical artifact that does more than simply capture appearances. It photographs not only the subject’s outward image, but also traces of their soul.”

Yue blinked. “Wait, what?”

Deuce’s face twisted into a look of mild concern. “That sounds… kind of sketchy.”

“Sketchy?” Crowley scoffed. “Nonsense! These cameras are perfectly safe. As safe as… well, as safe as most things I give out!”

Yue raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. She looked back down at the device in her hands, feeling the faint thrum of arcane energy pulsing through it like a heartbeat. Despite her skepticism, there was something undeniably fascinating about the artifact. A camera that captures pieces of a soul? That could be dangerous in the wrong hands or priceless in the right ones. She wondered what sorts of “memories” this thing could draw out… and if that meant exposing something people didn’t want seen.

Crowley waved a hand, continuing like a professor who was far too pleased with himself. “The images it captures are called Memories. Normally, they remain faint, mere glimpses of emotion or aura. But when the soulbond between the photographer and the subject grows stronger… ah, then the memories stored within the photos can truly manifest! You may see flickers of the past. Fragments of thought or desire.”

“That’s…” Yue tilted her head slightly. “A little creepy.”

“But deeply informative!” Crowley countered. “Perfect for investigation, documentation, and for my purposes, scanning the state of our friendly little ghost problem.”

Crowley straightened, clearly warming to the subject, and continued in a proud, almost conspiratorial tone, “As the bond between photographer and subject deepens, something fascinating begins to happen. The captured Memories start to move like enchanted paintings come to life, or little windows into a moment suspended in time. They can animate, flicker, shift… sometimes even speak.”

Yue blinked slowly, the camera still in her hands. “...So, like magical video recordings?”

“Exactly!” Crowley chirped. “And occasionally, under the right conditions, the photograph’s magic can become so powerful… the Memory gains a degree of physical form and slips out of the image entirely.”

Yue stared at him.

Ace, who had just been poking over her shoulder to get a better look at the device, leaned back with a sharp whistle. “Wait, hold on. You’re saying photos can escape? Like, come alive?”

“Is that not what you youths would call ‘wicked keen’?” Crowley asked with a smug chuckle, arms crossed like a magician unveiling his greatest trick.

Deuce looked mildly alarmed. “That… sounds like ghost photography.”

“Very astute, Mister Spade,” Crowley nodded approvingly, tapping a gloved finger to his temple. “Hence the name: Ghost Camera. In fact, it was originally developed in an era long before modern video technology, a way to preserve moments in time in greater depth than a still image. But of course, people weren’t quite ready for it.” He spread his arms dramatically. “You see, when a photograph suddenly started moving or when a hazy figure emerged from the frame, people panicked. Screamed. Ran for the hills. The common cry was always the same: ‘A ghost!’”

He placed a hand over his heart and let out a long, theatrical sigh. “There are even tales of entire villages thinking they were cursed, simply because some old mage snapped a picture and accidentally summoned a Memory that looked like Uncle Bernard.”

Yue rubbed her temple, slowly absorbing all of this. Magic photos that come alive, show bits of people's souls, and can walk out of their frames like it's nothing? She cast a side glance at the device in her hands. This world really doesn’t believe in keeping magic simple, does it?

Ace snorted. “This whole thing sounds like way more trouble than it’s worth. What if you photograph someone and suddenly their childhood trauma comes flying out and starts haunting the dorms?”

Crowley ignored the comment with the practiced ease of a man who had tuned out a thousand similar protests. “Yuu-kun,” he said, turning his full attention back to her. “I would like you to use the Ghost Camera to photograph Grim, your fellow students, and any other notable moments that unfold. Think of it as… documenting your journey here. A record of your campus life.”

Grim puffed up proudly, tail flicking with excitement as his chest swelled with theatrical flair. “Myah ha haaa! Sounds like the perfect way to immortalize all my finest moments! Make sure you get my good side, minion- I mean, Yuu!”

Yue raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Fine, she thought dryly, if I’m stuck here, I might as well get some proof of this fever dream of a school. She shifted the ghost camera in her hands, its weight unfamiliar but not heavy. Curious, she lifted it and aimed at Grim, squinting through the magical lens before gently pressing the capture button.

Nothing happened.

Not even a sparkle. No flash. No sound. Not even a faint magical hum.

She blinked and lowered the camera, turning it over in her hands. “...Is this thing broken?”

Crowley cleared his throat with deliberate grandeur. “Ahem, no. It simply requires a touch of finesse. The ghost camera doesn’t respond to mere curiosity, it reacts to connection, intent, and a little bit of magic. Yours, in this case, is quite subtle.”

Yue stared flatly at the device. Connection and intent? What, does it need me to pour my heart out first?

Crowley steepled his fingers and continued in a far too pleased tone. “Make especially certain, Yuu-kun, to document the mischief caused by certain students who suffer from... shall we say, chronic impulse control issues.” He tilted his head toward Ace, who only grinned in response.

“Rather than write lengthy reports on school events, which I imagine would test even your patience, I thought this would be a more enjoyable alternative,” Crowley went on smoothly. “As Directing Student, it is now your duty to observe and record your surroundings with keen attention. And really, am I not the very picture of generosity? Bestowing a rare magical artifact, one even a magicless soul such as yourself can use?”

Yue gave the camera a look of mild suspicion, then sighed, tucking it securely under her arm. “So now I’m a half-student, part-time prefect, and full-time magical cameraperson with a soul-recording device. Totally normal day. Sure. Why not.”

Still, despite her sarcasm, part of her felt a quiet curiosity stirring. A camera that captures pieces of someone’s soul… and reveals something real beneath the surface. Maybe, just maybe, it could help her understand this world better, or at least help her not feel like a tourist in a dream she couldn’t wake up from.

Crowley beamed, clearly missing (or ignoring) her sardonic tone. “Excellent! I do so appreciate such enthusiasm. Alas, the hour grows late, and even young minds brimming with potential need rest. Spade, Trappola, your Housewarden shall be informed to escort you to the infirmary first thing tomorrow for a thorough check-up.”

Deuce straightened like a soldier. “Yes, sir! Good night!”

Crowley turned his attention back to Yue, adopting a more serious tone, though he couldn’t quite keep the melodrama from his voice. “Yuu-kun, I shall accompany you personally. I did, after all, promise to take responsibility for sending you to that treacherous mine. We still do not fully know what manner of injuries may have taken root from the incident.”

Yue’s brows lifted slightly. “So now I get medical clearance too? You really are generous.”

“Am I not?” Crowley said with a proud hand on his chest. “You are all dismissed. Return to your dorms, and prepare yourselves for the morrow.”

With a flourish of his cape, the headmaster turned and swept dramatically out of the room, his footsteps echoing like the final notes of an overly dramatic overture.

The heavy door to the Headmaster's office creaked shut behind them, leaving the four of them standing in the cool corridor just beyond. Outside, the sky had deepened into a rich navy blue, scattered with stars glimmering faintly above the distant spires of Night Raven College. The torches lining the exterior hallway flickered with soft, magical light, casting long shadows as the group walked together across the flagstones.

Deuce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Phew… We really dodged a bullet back there. I thought for sure we were gonna be expelled.”

Ace threw his hands behind his head with a grin. “Yeah, no kidding! One more minute of Crowley’s speech and I think I would've passed out from stress.”

“La la la la la!” Grim sang obnoxiously as he marched ahead of them, tail bouncing with every step. “I'm a student at Night Raven College! La la la! Soon I’ll be the top mage on campus, everyone else can just eat my dust!”

Ace glanced at the overly enthusiastic monster with a smirk. “Big talk for a sentient dust bunny who technically isn’t even a whole student. But hey, I guess I gotta give you some credit.”

Deuce chuckled, his tone gentler. “Well, I guess that makes us official schoolmates now. Grim, Yuu, welcome to Night Raven.”

Yue had been quietly watching the exchange, the camera tucked under her arm like a strange new appendage she still wasn’t quite used to. Her gaze drifted upward to the open sky before returning to her companions. “The pleasure’s mine,” she said at last, voice soft but steady. “I’ve got a weird feeling we’re going to be stuck together from now on. I just hope this ends up being something I can handle.”

Or at least, she added silently, something I can survive.

Ace groaned dramatically. “Okay, seriously, can we drop the whole ‘bonding moment’ stuff already? I’m getting hives over here.”

Deuce shot him a half-smile. “Heh. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. We’ll see how much of a ‘pleasure’ that turns out to be.”

He nudged Ace playfully with his elbow. “Especially you. We’re in the same dorm, remember?”

Ace grimaced. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Can’t say I’m thrilled to wake up every day to your smug, self-righteous mug staring back at me.”

Yue blinked. So they really are like this all the time... That’s either going to be incredibly entertaining or completely exhausting.

Deuce ignored the jab and turned to her instead, his tone more sincere now. “Still... the way you stood your ground back there? Facing that monster without any magic? That took guts. Steel nerves like that? You’ll be just fine here, even in a place like this.”

The compliment caught Yue off guard. She blinked, unsure what to say at first. Compliments weren’t something she was used to hearing, especially not ones wrapped in genuine respect. After a beat, she gave a modest shrug, trying to play it off. “Well… I wasn’t exactly aiming for heroics. Mostly just didn’t want to die horribly in a mine.”

Ace tilted his head, squinting at Deuce suspiciously. “Say, what’s the deal with you slipping into street slang sometimes? You go from proper honor student to back-alley punk in like five seconds.”

Deuce froze mid-step, eyes wide. “H-huh?! I—I don’t! Do I? I think I talk pretty normal—”

Ace stretched his arms behind his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever. Let’s just get back to the dorm already. After dodging expulsion by a feather, the last thing I need is to get hit with a curfew violation.”

Deuce nodded, adjusting his collar. “We’re both from Heartslabyul Dorm, by the way. You’ll probably see us around more than you’d like.”

“Great,” Yue muttered, though a flicker of amusement curled at the edge of her lips. “Can’t wait.”

Grim, puffing up with pride, sauntered ahead with a grand sweep of his paw. “As for us, we’re in the dorm that’s been abandoned longer than you’ve been alive. We’ve taken to callin’ it ‘Ramshackle Dorm.’ Cozy, right?” He shuddered. “The place is crawling with ghosts. Literal, moaning, floating-around-at-midnight ghosts. Real fixer-upper.”

Ace chuckled and gestured toward Grim with his thumb. “Honestly, count your blessings. I’d rather bunk with a couple of haunted bedsheets than wake up to Deuce’s annoyingly righteous mug every morning.”

Deuce huffed. “Tch. Better than seeing your half-lidded slacker face drooling into your pillow.”

“Keep talking, crybaby,” Ace fired back with a grin. “I still remember you practically sobbing when Crowley said you were expelled. What was it? ‘I’m sorry, Mom! I’ve failed!’” He snickered and offered Yue a casual wave. “Catch ya later, Yuu.”

Yue watched them go, their silhouettes growing smaller beneath the flickering torchlight as the banter faded into the night.

She exhaled through her nose, faintly smiling. “Those two seem like they were made for each other. Chaos and judgment in perfect harmony.”

Grim flicked his tail. “Pfft. Let those clowns do their comedy act. C’mon, Henchman! Time to head home.”

“Home,” Yue repeated under her breath, still trying to wrap her head around that word. It wasn’t what she imagined her first night at a prestigious magic school would be like, but then again, she did technically trespass into another world, survive a magical cave-in, get a cursed camera, and enroll in a haunted dorm all in one day. She supposed at this point, her expectations didn’t matter much.

Grim bounded ahead with renewed excitement, practically vibrating with anticipation. “Tomorrow, when we wake up, we won’t be janitors anymore. No more scrubbing floors or carrying boxes or running errands for ghosts!”

He stopped, spinning dramatically on his paw pads and throwing his arms wide open to the sky. “Finally... My glorious education as a proper Night Raven College student is about to begin!”

Yue gave him a sideways glance, then smirked. “Let’s hope the school survives it.”

Yue collapsed onto the creaky mattress with a heavy thud, the old bed groaning beneath her as though protesting yet another burden. She lay there on her back, arms flopped at her sides, staring blankly up at the cracked ceiling above. The moonlight filtered in through the warped windowpanes, casting silvery lines across the dusty room, soft and quiet like the world had finally decided to pause, just long enough to let her breathe.

Her entire body ached in that dull, all-encompassing way that only came from a day so utterly packed with chaos it barely felt real. Scrubbing the streets at Crowley’s demand, chasing Ace like a madwoman through the dorm halls after he bailed on cleaning duty, nearly falling out a window while fixing the glass, getting showered in debris from the collapsing chandelier… and then the mines. Gods, the mines. That memory alone made her limbs feel like lead again.

She let out a slow, exhausted breath, the kind that released tension straight from the bones. “We really did all that… in one day?” she muttered, almost in disbelief. Her voice was hoarse, lips curling into a faint, ironic smile as the surreal sequence of events played back in her mind like a twisted slapstick comedy.

At the foot of the bed, Grim lay curled up into a soft ball of fluff, his tiny chest rising and falling with deep, rhythmic snores. Even now, the little furball was talking in his sleep.

“Gonna be… da best… most powerful magician…,” he mumbled dreamily, one paw twitching in midair as if casting spells in his dreams.

Yue’s tired eyes softened, a reluctant affection stirring in her chest. “You absolute menace,” she murmured, reaching out to gently poke his round belly with one finger.

He gave a quiet grunt in response, tail giving a lazy flick but otherwise refusing to stir.

“You know,” she said with a faint smirk, “if you weren’t such a cute little disaster, I might’ve diced you into kebabs for all the nonsense you dragged me into.”

Despite the light tone, her voice carried a quiet sincerity. For all his big talk and reckless energy, Grim had stuck by her side through it all. It wasn't nothing.

Silence settled again, punctuated only by the wind rustling through the old wooden frames and Grim’s soft snores. With her body finally still, Yue allowed her mind to sift through everything that had happened, not just physically, but what she’d learned.

One thing had stuck in her mind. Those sleek, elegant fountain pens the other students wielded, they weren’t just writing instruments. She’d seen Deuce and Ace use them in battle, conducting magic with a simple flick of the wrist. Spells leapt from the tips like ink turned to fire and wind. No chanting, no scrolls, no complicated rituals. Just that glimmering pen.

Magic pens, she thought, eyes narrowing. Focus tools, maybe. Conduits. Definitely enchanted.

And if she was going to be forced into this school under the flimsy excuse of “special enrollment,” then Crowley owed her a lot more than just a dusty dorm and a bottomless list of chores.

Her lips curled into a dark little smile. That ridiculous bird-man… he really thought I wouldn’t notice he’s been skating by without paying me a single thaumarks.

She remembered what he’d said: that she was now a “directly admitted student of Night Raven College.” That had to come with some benefits. A real uniform. A stipend. Equipment. Something.

If he wanted her to keep playing this student role, then fine, but she'd be negotiating her terms. No, not negotiating, leveraging.

After all, she’d scrounged up the materials for that ridiculous dorm camera, kept Grim in line, survived magical combat without a proper spell focus, and still hadn’t dropped dead.

A fair allowance was the least she deserved.

“Oh yes,” she murmured to herself, voice curling like smoke. “Crowley and I are going to have a little chat. Maybe I’ll ask about hazard pay while I’m at it.”

Crowley. The so-called headmaster. Equal parts theatrical and unhinged. A man who flung words like confetti and responsibilities like hot potatoes. He’d essentially guilt-tripped her into enrollment and saddled her with a haunted dorm and a cursed camera, all while delivering backhanded compliments with the grace of a circus ringmaster. And somehow, in his flurry of vague rules and dramatic speeches, he never once addressed her properly. No, he kept calling her “Yuu-kun,” just like Deuce and Ace did earlier.

Yue frowned, her brows furrowing in the dark. The pattern was hard to ignore now.

They all think I’m a boy, she realized, the conclusion dropping into place with a dull thud.

It explained a lot. The uniforms. The dorm names. The absence of any female staff or students. And those egos, gods above, the egos. Every student she’d met so far strutted around like they were the chosen one in their own personal story. Ace’s snark, Deuce’s rigid honor-student routine, even Grim’s loud declarations, it all fit.

“This… is an all-boys school,” she muttered aloud, finally saying it to the empty room. “I’ve been dragged into an all-boys school.”

She sighed, flinging an arm over her face as if that would block out the absurdity of it all.

She wasn’t exactly unused to being mistaken for a boy. Her sharp features, low voice, and habit of wearing practical clothes over frilly ones meant people often made assumptions. But usually, she had the chance to correct them. Here? She hadn’t even gotten a word in. And now it was apparently too late. She was already labeled and slotted in where they thought she fit.

“Wonderful,” she whispered with a dry laugh. “Guess I’m going to be playing along, huh?”

The idea of pretending wasn’t exactly appealing… but it wasn’t like she had other options. Not unless she wanted to risk being expelled or thrown back into a world she couldn’t return to. Besides, so far? The school wasn’t boring. Dangerous, sure. Nonsensical? Absolutely. But boring? Never.

She rolled to her side, glancing one last time at Grim, still mumbling grand ambitions in his sleep. Her eyelids were heavy, her limbs weighted. But despite the ache, the confusion, and the bizarre twists, a strange flicker of curiosity sparked deep in her chest.

She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring. But somehow… she wanted to see it through.

Yue pulled the thin blanket over herself, eyes slipping shut.

“Just don’t snore, furball,” she murmured. “Or I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Grim grunted in his sleep again. “Henchman… mine… throne of fire…”

Yue huffed a tired laugh.

“Goodnight, you little tyrant.”

That night, sleep claimed Yue the moment her head hit the pillow. Not even Grim’s snoring could keep her tethered to the waking world. The exhaustion of the day pulled her down deep, past rest, past dreams, into something quieter.

At first, there was only fog.

A pale mist curled around her, soft and cool, neither warm nor cold. Yue didn’t panic. This wasn’t unfamiliar. She had drifted through places like this before in her meditations or when skimming the edge of dreams too vivid to be just dreams. This… felt like being summoned.

The ground beneath her shifted, and suddenly, she was no longer floating. Her feet found solid earth, grass soft beneath her bare toes. The mist cleared, dissolving into golden light, and her surroundings bloomed into focus.

A quiet courtyard stretched out around her, enclosed by weathered stone walls and the gentle flutter of cherry blossoms. Their pale petals rained gently from above, dusting the mossy stone path like snow. The breeze carried the scent of early spring, clean, crisp, and nostalgic. The architecture was a blend of East and West: a traditional Japanese engawa wrapped around a grand western-style villa, its wooden pillars standing firm with graceful elegance.

And there, standing with the ease of someone who had all the time in the world, was a woman. Slender and poised, with long black hair falling like ink down her back, she smoked a silver-kissed kiseru with idle grace. Her kimono hung loosely from one shoulder, casual but striking, like a painting come to life. She was watching Yue calmly, knowingly, as though she'd been expecting her.

Yue blinked, but didn’t flinch. Her heart didn’t race. She knew this place. She knew her.

“Lady Eisha,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

The Witch of Wishes.

A whisper of amusement touched Eisha’s lips, a slight curl as smoke ghosted from her pipe. “Your body is still at your dorm,” she said at last, her tone languid, unhurried. “But your soul has wandered here.”

Yue glanced down. Her body hovered just above the grass, glowing faintly like a reflection that forgot to stay in a mirror. She wasn't alarmed. If anything, it confirmed what she already suspected. Dreams like this didn’t happen by chance.

“Then you know,” Yue asked plainly, “why was I sent to Twisted Wonderland?”

She didn’t waste time on pleasantries. Lady Eisha wasn’t someone who appreciated empty chatter.

But the witch didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she inhaled another puff from her pipe, watching Yue with half-lidded eyes, eyes that had seen centuries pass and still held mischief in their depths.

“I do,” she said, voice like silk and starlight. “But I’m not here to explain fate. I’m here to deliver a message.”

Yue raised an eyebrow. “A message?”

The witch’s smile deepened. “From your shisho.”

Yue stiffened slightly, caught off guard. Her shisho? That woman never did anything without reason. If she was involved, this wasn’t some random magical mishap. Her heart fluttered for a moment, not from fear, but something warmer. Longing.

“She said: ‘Enjoy your youth. You can only live it once.’”

Yue blinked. “That’s… it?”

It felt vague. Strangely sentimental. Uncharacteristically sentimental. Her teacher was many things, brilliant, wise, infuriating, but not usually this… whimsical.

“What does that even mean?” Yue muttered, frowning slightly.

Lady Eisha stepped down from the engawa, her feet making no sound on the stone path. “It means exactly what it says.” She exhaled a final puff of smoke and tapped the ashes from her pipe with elegance. “She worries about you, you know. Her youngest disciple. Always so serious. Always so ready to shoulder the world.”

Yue looked away, mildly annoyed by how accurate that was.

“She knows you’ll try to take this world the same way you did the last. With caution. With teeth bared. But perhaps this time,” the witch added, gently placing a hand on Yue’s floating shoulder, “you can allow yourself to live a little too.”

Yue opened her mouth to retort, to say she didn’t have that kind of luxury, not in a school full of ego-maniacs, chaos, and literal magical hazards, but the world was already beginning to blur. The petals lifted in reverse, pulled into the sky like they were caught on a rising breeze.

Lady Eisha’s final words echoed through the swirling light:

“Because you are needed in that world.”

And then everything went white.

Yue woke with a slow inhale, her breath catching for a second before she blinked herself back into consciousness. The cracked ceiling of Ramshackle greeted her like a bad postcard.

Grim was still curled at her feet, snoring loudly, tail twitching like he was fighting off flying tuna in his dreams.

Yue lay still, letting the weight of the dream settle.

Enjoy your youth, she repeated in her head.

Her gaze sharpened. She might try. But first, she had a school to survive. A headmaster to shake down. An allowance to demand. And maybe, just maybe, answers to chase down in this strange new world.

But for now, she stared at the ceiling with a small, thoughtful frown.

“‘Enjoy your youth,’ huh?” she murmured.

She doubted that was going to be as easy as it sounded.

Yue sat up slowly, the memory of the dream still lingering at the edge of her thoughts like the scent of fading incense. The words echoed faintly, enjoy your youth, because you're needed in that world, but trying to decipher them further only made her temples ache. She rubbed the back of her neck, exhaling through her nose.

Lying around and brooding about cryptic dream messages wouldn’t help her survive another chaotic day in this bizarre school. She had classes to attend, problems to solve, and, she realized as she glanced down, she was still in her makeshift pajamas: an oversized shirt and borrowed shorts she’d salvaged from one of the dusty wardrobes of Ramshackle.

Her left eye twitched.

“…He didn’t even give me a uniform,” she muttered bitterly, recalling Crowley’s dramatic speech about welcoming her to the school and providing essential support. Apparently, essentials did not include basic clothing. She sighed, long and deep, as though trying to expel the growing list of disappointments from her lungs.

She stood and rolled her shoulders. Her limbs were still sore, tight from the previous day’s magical chaos and the running around that felt more like surviving a battlefield than attending orientation. A small smirk tugged at her lips. At least it meant she was still in one piece.

Time to reset her body.

She cleared a small space in the room, careful not to trip over any wayward furniture or loose floorboards, and began her morning routine. First came the stretches, she reached down, touching her toes, holding the position for a few breaths before twisting her torso left, then right. Her spine cracked in protest, but the familiar stiffness was almost comforting.

Her movements gradually shifted from soft to sharp, fluid to focused. Each stretch transitioned into controlled motion, deep lunges, high kicks, slow yet powerful core rotations. Her balance was impeccable, honed through years of training under her shishō's strict regimen. The old wooden floor creaked slightly beneath her, but she moved like water across it, her body folding and unfolding with graceful ease.

It wasn’t just exercise, it was meditation, discipline, ritual. Something that grounded her in who she was no matter where she ended up.

Her mind drifted briefly as she flowed from pose to pose.

Enjoy your youth…

Yeah. She would try. But she’d do it on her own terms. Youth didn’t mean acting recklessly or letting her guard down. It meant carving her own place, earning what was hers, and never letting anyone decide her path for her. That much, she owed herself and her shishō.

With one final controlled exhale, Yue stood straight, wiping the light sweat from her brow. Muscles warm, joints looser, she felt more alert, more herself. The ache in her limbs had dulled into something manageable. A small victory.

She padded over to the small, crumbling bathroom, washed up, and splashed her face with cold water, letting it jolt her fully into wakefulness. Her reflection in the cracked mirror stared back, messy hair, sharp eyes, and a glint of challenge in them. Despite the exhaustion, there was determination too.

Back in her room, she walked over to Grim’s makeshift bed and knelt beside him. He was still curled up, snoring with dramatic flair, his tail twitching like he was chasing a dream squirrel. Yue leaned closer and gently poked his shoulder, rocking him back and forth with two fingers.

“Grim,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Wake up. We’ve got class, and I’m not carrying you there.”

Grim groaned and burrowed deeper into the blankets. “Five more minutes…”

Yue raised an eyebrow.  Yue chuckled, unable to help the small smile tugging at her lips as she watched Grim’s reluctant squirming beneath the covers.

“But Grim,” she said, her tone lilting and playful, “it’s your first day of school as a student.”

That single word ‘student’ was all it took.

Grim jolted upright like she’d doused him in cold water. His eyes shot open wide, his fur fluffing up with excitement. “Mmm—Ngyah! I’m a student now! The great Grim is finally a student!”

Yue folded her arms, watching him with a faint smirk. “Yes, yes, mighty scholar Grim. But if you want to look the part, you’d better get to grooming. Brush your teeth, fix that bedhead, and try not to set anything on fire. First impressions matter.”

“You’re absolutely right, henchman!” he declared, puffing out his chest and striking a ridiculous pose. “The campus shall bask in my greatness!”

With that, he scampered off toward the bathroom with all the dramatics of a seasoned performer taking the stage. Yue waited until he was out of sight before letting out a soft breath and shaking her head with a small laugh.

“Bask in your nonsense, more like.”

Descending the creaky staircase, Yue made her way to the dim, dusty kitchen. Despite its neglected state, it was functional enough. She rolled up the sleeves of her borrowed shirt, surveying the limited pantry. There wasn’t much, just enough odds and ends to scrape together something edible.

With practiced ease, she boiled water for coffee and scavenged what she could for a light breakfast, some toast, a few leftover berries, and an egg she found in the back of the tiny icebox. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was fuel. And if this school was anything like yesterday had promised, she was going to need a lot of energy.

She stood by the stove, sipping her coffee in silence as morning light crept through the cracked windowpanes, painting the kitchen in a soft amber hue. The stillness gave her a moment to think, about everything ahead.

Headmaster Crowley did say he’d be taking them to the infirmary today, she mused, tapping a finger against the chipped mug. Probably wants to make sure we didn’t keel over from yesterday’s chaos.

Her gaze wandered absently toward the back door, her thoughts already drifting toward the upcoming “negotiation” with Crowley. The lack of uniform, supplies, and literally any form of basic support still grated on her.

I’m not asking for much, she thought, eyes narrowing slightly. Just what every other student gets. And if the good Headmaster needs a little push to remember that… I can be very persuasive.

She downed the rest of her coffee in one long gulp, steeled and ready to face whatever this strange new world threw at her next.

Just as Yue was finishing her second cup of coffee, the front door slammed open with a dramatic bang, the sound ricocheting through the old house like a cannon blast.

“Good morning, Yuu-kun~!” came the unmistakably theatrical voice of Headmaster Crowley, echoing through the entryway. “I’ve come to graciously escort you to the infirmary! You may begin showering me with praise at any moment!”

Yue blinked slowly, her mug still half-raised to her lips. She stared at the now slightly-tilted door as it swung on its creaky hinges, one nail already loosening from the frame. A long, heavy sigh escaped her lips, the kind that carried the weight of someone already so very tired.

“I just fixed that door,” she muttered under her breath.

Crowley, standing tall with his cane tucked against his shoulder and his feathered mask gleaming under the sun, posed dramatically as if waiting for applause. Instead, he was met with Yue’s deadpan expression, her eyes half-lidded and unimpressed.

“Really? No reaction?” he said, blinking behind his mask. “I was sure you’d be more grateful for my generosity this morning.”

From the staircase behind her, Grim appeared, halfway through grooming his fur and with a toothbrush still lodged in his mouth. He paused mid-step, looking Crowley up and down with the same unimpressed glare as Yue.

Crowley’s cheerful demeanor faltered slightly. “Not even a little smile?” he asked, more confused than offended.

“It’s too early for this,” Yue said flatly, turning back toward the kitchen to rinse out her mug. “You’ve already broken my door. Again.”

She didn’t even bother hiding the sarcasm in her voice. Sleep-deprived, sore from yesterday’s events, still slightly haunted by her dream, and now subjected to Crowley’s flamboyant intrusion, it was a miracle she hadn’t thrown the mug at him. Yet.

“I’ll make it up to you!” Crowley offered brightly, unfazed as always. “Why, I’m even taking time out of my busy schedule to guide you personally. What kindness!”

“Translation: you don’t trust us to not wander off and get into trouble again,” Yue mumbled, toweling off her hands.

He tapped his chin in mock-thought. “Well, you are trouble-prone. But that’s beside the point!”

Grim grumbled, hopping down the last step. “I don’t even get to enjoy breakfast before getting dragged around again…”

Yue crossed her arms. “You’d better be taking us somewhere with snacks.”

Crowley gasped dramatically. “Do you take me for a villain? The infirmary has cookies! And tea! And maybe even a pity sticker if you behave!”

“I want three,” Yue said dryly, grabbing her bag and nudging Grim toward the door. “One for every near-death experience yesterday.”

Crowley gave an exaggerated bow. “But of course, Yuu-kun. Let us depart! Your future as a healthy, functioning student depends on it!”

Yue muttered under her breath as she passed him, “We’ll see how healthy my patience is by the end of this.”

The infirmary was brighter than Yue expected. Sunlight filtered softly through the tall arched windows, casting warm beams over the gleaming floor and pristine white sheets tucked neatly on each bed. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, clean, sterile, clinical. Yet the space didn’t feel cold. Potted plants on the windowsills and elegant, curving furniture gave the room a strangely refined atmosphere, as if someone had painstakingly curated every corner with both efficiency and aesthetics in mind.

A far cry from the ramshackle walls of her dorm.

Yue’s eyes scanned the room and paused.

A man stood near one of the counters, flipping through a clipboard with the bored air of someone far too used to fixing other people’s messes. He hadn’t looked up yet, but he radiated sharpness from the tip of his red gloves to the deliberate part of his dual-colored hair, one half snow white, the other jet black, like a fashion statement given physical form. Silver studs glittered at his ears, matching the confident set of his jaw and the subtle disdain clinging to his expression.

His tuxedo, accented with red and black, hugged his tall frame with precise tailoring. His coat, thick, lavish, and fur-lined, swished slightly as he turned, revealing tail-like appendages that gave him a wolfish silhouette. A thin teaching pointer hung from his belt, tipped with a red collar and charm, as if daring someone to misbehave.

Yue blinked once. Then twice.

Well. Damn.

She wasn’t exactly one to swoon, but she could still appreciate a man who looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine and could probably kill someone with a glance. It was almost unfair.

The man finally looked up, and his gaze swept over her like a scalpel, clinical, appraising, and unimpressed.

“If it isn’t the infamous unruly pup from the ceremony,” he said, voice as smooth and biting as the scent of expensive cologne. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, gray and glinting beneath dark lashes. “Still alive, I see.”

Yue raised an eyebrow, caught off guard only for a heartbeat before amusement curled at the corner of her lips. Puppy?

That’s new.

“Good morning to you too,” she replied, tilting her head slightly with a neutral smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t know dogs got this much attention on campus.”

Beside her, Crowley chuckled like a man watching fireworks and knowing he’d lit the match. “Professor Crewel is our school nurse and one of the most respected faculty members here,” he said, clearly enjoying the tension. “He’ll be overseeing your examination. Try not to bite.”

Yue let out a quiet snort and crossed her arms. “Only if someone pulls my tail first.”

Grim looked between the two adults, then leaned toward Yue and whispered, “Is it just me or are all the teachers here kinda… dramatic?”

“You say that like you’re not,” she muttered back.

Professor Crewel sighed as he set down the clipboard with deliberate grace, fixing Crowley with a look so sharp it could cut glass. “Correction, I’m also a professor for science subjects at this institution,” he said coolly, brushing imaginary lint from his immaculate sleeve. “Unfortunately, someone still hasn’t hired a proper nurse or doctor for this school, so I’m forced to juggle yet another responsibility.”

His eyes narrowed further at the masked headmaster like a wolf ready to sink its teeth in.

Crowley hummed with false innocence, waving one gloved hand dismissively. “Now, now, small details.”

“Small details?” Crewel repeated in disbelief, his voice rising an octave. “We had a student nearly get eaten by a monster the first day, and you want to talk about small details?”

“Well, technically he wasn’t even enrolled yet,” Crowley mumbled, sidestepping Crewel’s glare with theatrical grace. “So that’s not under my jurisdiction.”

“You absolute buffoon,” Crewel muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “One day your negligence will come back to bite you, hopefully literally.”

Yue, caught in the middle of their academic tug-of-war, resisted the urge to sigh and instead glanced at Grim, who looked as unimpressed as she felt. She cleared her throat.

“Should I… come back when the teachers are done arguing?”

Both men turned to look at her. Crowley beamed. Crewel did not.

“No,” the professor said, eyes sharp again. “Sit. I want to confirm you’re not bleeding internally, concussed, or cursed. Yet.”

Yue raised her hands in mock surrender and moved toward the examination table. “Alright, alright. Puppy’s listening.”

Crewel’s left eye twitched. Crowley stifled a laugh behind his sleeve.

Yue grinned. Maybe this school wouldn’t be so dull after all.

Just as Professor Crewel was reaching for his clipboard again, his gaze flicked pointedly to the man still standing far too comfortably near the doorway.

“Crowley,” he said, voice clipped and cold. “Out.”

The headmaster blinked behind his mask. “Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Crewel snapped, tugging on his crimson gloves with sharp, purposeful tugs. “Patient privacy. You may play at being a headmaster, but I uphold my standards regardless of who’s present. I did the same for Trappola and Spade, and you shall do the same.”

Crowley looked genuinely scandalized. “But I—! This is highly irregular! I’m here in an official capacity!”

“Out,” Crewel repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

And then came the look, sharp as a whip crack, laced with venomous precision. It could silence a roaring crowd, and it certainly silenced the headmaster. Whatever defense Crowley was about to conjure died an awkward, pitiful death in his throat. He shrank a little, gave a theatrical sigh, and turned on his heel like a scolded child.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered. “I’ll be just outside, mind you. Call me if anything explodes.”

Yue tilted her head to watch Crowley’s dramatic departure, her brows lifting slightly in amused curiosity. She’d expected resistance, maybe more of the usual evasive banter, but that glare from Crewel? That was power. Interesting. Very interesting.

The door closed behind Crowley with a soft click, and for a moment the infirmary was filled with the muted hum of distant birds outside the window.

“Well,” Yue said lightly, glancing back at Crewel. “That was... efficient.”

“Only way to deal with him,” Crewel muttered, clearly still annoyed. He scribbled something with elegant penmanship onto his clipboard and then gestured sharply. “Sit.”

Without a word, Yue moved toward the nearest bed and perched herself on the edge, taking a moment to note how oddly soft the mattress was. Grim, true to form, had followed her like a shadow, but the second his paws touched the floor, he gave an exaggerated yawn and curled up in a tiny sun-drenched spot near the foot of the bed. In seconds, he was snoring softly.

Traitor.

Crewel moved in with smooth precision, his eyes scanning her with a kind of clinical thoroughness she hadn’t experienced in a long while. He rattled off the usual questions, any nausea, headaches, dizziness. She answered each one with practiced calm, observing him just as closely.

“Raise your arms,” he ordered, stepping back to give her space.

She obeyed without hesitation, her posture relaxed but alert. He didn’t waste time, checking reflexes, pupil dilation, breath sounds with the stethoscope. He was professional, methodical. He didn’t make small talk, and that only confirmed her earlier suspicion: this was a man who valued efficiency and results over pleasantries.

And he wasn’t stupid either.

Because at no point did he question her gender, even though he clearly knew. That little flicker in his eyes, the subtle awareness, told her all she needed. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t pause, didn’t treat her any differently. That won him a rare point of respect.

Crowley wouldn’t have shut up about it.

She watched him silently as he returned to his clipboard, jotting notes with neat, fluid strokes. And while he was distracted, she decided to test the waters. Just a little.

“Did the headmaster tell you to run a thorough check-up because I’m from another world?” she asked innocently, her tone featherlight, casual.

The reaction was immediate.

Crewel’s pen halted mid-stroke. His head snapped toward her with a sudden sharpness, brows furrowed as if she’d just grown a second head. “What?”

Yue blinked at him, feigning wide-eyed innocence with the ease of someone who’d worn that mask a hundred times before. “He didn’t tell you?”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then—pop—a vein in Crewel’s temple visibly twitched.

“Crowley…” he growled, eyes blazing with fury. The name came out like a curse spat from between clenched teeth. “That insufferable, featherbrained, what else is he hiding under that ridiculous mask?”

Yue had to fight back the smirk tugging at her lips. She leaned slightly forward, resting her chin on one hand, legs swinging lazily off the edge of the bed.

“So I am the first?” she asked, tone still light. “That’s kind of exciting.”

Crewel’s eyes narrowed again, but this time with calculation rather than irritation.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I’ve had worse surprises,” Yue replied, shrugging. “Woke up on a coffin, remember?”

“Hmph.” Crewel clicked his tongue and resumed scribbling, though with a touch more force this time. “If you are from another world, that means your physiology might have some key differences. Crowley should’ve reported that immediately so I could begin proper evaluations and magical resistance testing.”

“Well,” she said sweetly, “now you know. Consider this... a ‘heads up.’”

Crewel muttered something under his breath about strangling masked idiots with their own capes, but Yue just leaned back slightly, a thoughtful gleam in her eye.

He might be cold and strict, but unlike Crowley, he paid attention.

That made him valuable.

And maybe… a potential ally.

But alliances were fragile things. For now, she’d let him fume, and watch how he moved.

She liked knowing who in the room had teeth.

Crewel finally stepped back, snapping the clipboard shut with a decisive clack. His expression was unreadable for a long moment as he studied Yue, his narrow eyes flicking from her face to her relaxed, if calculating, posture.

“I’ll need to schedule another appointment,” he finally said. “Now that I’m aware of your... unique circumstances, we’ll need to run magical resistance diagnostics and a full arcane compatibility profile.”

“Sounds fancy,” Yue replied, her voice smooth as silk. “Will there be needles?”

Crewel raised an eyebrow. “Only if you misbehave.”

She grinned.

Just then, the door creaked open, without knocking, of course, and the headmaster practically tiptoed back into the infirmary like a nosy peacock who had been waiting for the coast to clear.

Crowley clapped his hands together as he spotted Yue still intact and Crewel not throwing a scalpel. “So! How did our little darling do? Everything still in one piece? Nothing exploded? That’s good news!”

Crewel did not share the enthusiasm. His voice turned ice-cold. “So far, he isn’t injured. No fractures, no internal bleeding, and no signs of immediate magical contamination.” He paused. “I don’t know if that makes her fortunate or unfortunate, considering he’s under your care.”

Crowley’s eyes sparkled behind his mask. “See! See! That means I’ve done an excellent job!”

Snap.

The air in the room changed.

“YOU,” Crewel barked, his voice like thunder across a stormy sky.

Crowley flinched as if struck, his feathers metaphorically ruffled. “Wh-What? What did I do now—”

“What didn’t you do?” Crewel snapped. “You neglected a child from another world with no magical record, no background information, no medical screening, nothing. You neglected to inform a single member of the faculty or medical staff. And worse, worse! you threw him straight into school duties like some unpaid intern!”

Crowley winced. “It’s not like I made him fight a chimera!”

“You sent him into the Dwarf Mines!”

“I wasn’t expecting for them to actually go there... mostly...” Crowley trailed off.

Yue watched the chaos with mild amusement, legs swinging lazily from the exam bed. Internally, she made another note: Crewel hates incompetence, Crowley included. Good to know.

“I’ve admitted Yuu-kun as a student now!” Crowley declared, puffing up with pride.

Yue narrowed her eyes slightly. “Speaking of which—Headmaster, how am I supposed to attend classes if I don’t have a uniform?”

A painful silence blanketed the room.

Crowley froze mid-step, his forced smile twitching as he turned ever so slowly toward her. “Ah… yes. About that-”

Crewel’s eyes narrowed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly restraining himself from hurling his clipboard across the room.

“I will personally tailor Yuu’s uniform,” he stated with slow, crisp enunciation that promised no tolerance for further nonsense. “But for now, he’ll make do with a spare. I’ll retrieve one in her approximate size. That will be settled on another date—one I will schedule myself. Properly.”

Yue blinked. “You’re making it yourself?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t trust him to stitch two buttons correctly, let alone dress a student who requires subtle adjustments.”

Crowley looked offended. “I have a wonderful sense of style!”

Crewel gave him a once-over. “You’re wearing two capes.”

“They’re layers,” Crowley huffed, crossing his arms like a sulking child.

Yue tried not to smirk but failed. “I’d appreciate something that won’t catch fire when I walk into a magic lab. Preferably.”

“You’ll have it,” Crewel said. “With reinforced stitching and protective charms. The last thing I want is your mysterious foreign biology reacting badly to unstable nether.”

Crowley brightened, trying to salvage the mood. “See? Things are already coming together!”

Crewel turned on him so fast the Headmaster took a step back. 

“This does not excuse your negligence. You didn’t just forget a uniform, you failed to provide necessities, a proper schedule, or even appropriate housing. You shoved a student, one with no magic, no prior knowledge of this world, into an abandoned, collapsing dorm!”

Crewel’s voice rose with each accusation, sharp and cutting like the crack of a whip. “The Ramshackle Dorm, Crowley? Have you completely lost your mind?”

“I—w-well, it’s a historical building with great potential!” Crowley stammered, tugging at his cravat. “And it builds character!”

“It’s full of dust, spirits, and gods know what else! He could’ve fallen through the floorboards!”

“Character!” Crowley insisted, sweat visibly collecting at his temple.

Yue, seated calmly on the bed, lifted a hand like she was in a classroom. “To be fair, the floor did try to eat me last night. Twice.”

Crewel inhaled through his nose and exhaled slowly, the kind of breath one took to keep from committing a crime.

“Unbelievable,” he growled. “You didn’t just neglect your responsibilities, Crowley, you’ve actively endangered your students.”

Yue quietly raised her hand again. “Not to interrupt, but if I do get assigned a class, please don’t make it based on who survives the first week.”

Crewel muttered under his breath, then turned to her with a sigh. “Don’t worry, pup. I’ll personally oversee the rest of your basic student requirements. At this rate, I may as well take over his job too.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” Crowley said with a nervous laugh. “Everything’s under control!”

Yue’s eyes half-lidded. “I’d feel more reassured if the bar wasn’t underground.”

Crewel didn’t smile, but the corner of his lip twitched. Just a little.

Yue slid off the infirmary bed with a soft grunt, stretching her arms overhead and rolling her shoulders until she heard a faint pop. “Thanks, Professor Crewel. You’ve been... surprisingly professional.”

“I pride myself on it,” Crewel replied without missing a beat, brushing a nonexistent speck of dust off his immaculate fur-lined coat. “Someone in this school has to set the standard.”

Before she could leave, he handed her a neatly folded spare uniform. “Change into this for now. I’ll personally tailor your proper uniform later. You may not have magic, but that’s no excuse to look unkempt.”

Yue accepted the clothes with a nod of gratitude, ducking into the infirmary’s washroom to change. The uniform was a bit loose in the shoulders and the material stiffer than she preferred, but it would do for now. She studied herself briefly in the mirror, same tired face, same sharp eyes that always saw too much. Just in a stranger’s uniform this time.

As she stepped out, adjusting the hem of the jacket, she caught the sound of quiet voices just beyond the curtain partition.

“He’ll be under your homeroom, Professor Crewel,” came Crowley’s voice, chipper and unapologetic as always.

There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable sigh of a man resigning himself to fate. “Of course he will. Why not add another headache to my roster of wild mutts?”

Yue raised a brow at that but decided to let it slide. She had a feeling Crewel’s bark was worse than his bite, and in this school, that was a rare virtue.

They exited the infirmary together, Crowley immediately slipping back into his over-the-top persona. He clapped his gloved hands together dramatically. “Well, Yuu-kun! Now that we've confirmed you're miraculously still in one piece, it’s time to get you properly do you’re your job as directing student! So much to do! So much to see!”

Yue gave him a deadpan stare, her tone flat. “Does any of that include actual guidance… or are you just winging it again?”

Crowley froze, mouth halfway open. Then, ever the performer, he clicked his tongue, shot her a wink, and pointed finger guns in her direction. “Winging it with style!”

She stared at him a moment longer before letting out a long, exhausted sigh. “This school is going to kill me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Crowley chimed, already walking ahead with an exaggerated bounce in his step. “Now, off to fulfill my duties~ duties~ glorious responsibilities~!” he sang, disappearing around the corner with suspicious haste.

Yue watched him go, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in reluctant amusement. “He’s definitely running away after getting chewed out.”

Her small smile faded when she realized something. “Wait… I still don’t know what class I’m supposed to go to.”

And Grim, her supposed companion, was still fast asleep in the infirmary bed, completely unaware of the morning’s chaos.

With a sigh, Yue turned on her heel and reentered the infirmary. Grim was snoring softly, limbs splayed in every direction, blissfully undisturbed. She crossed the room, gave him a not-so-gentle poke in the side, and watched as he grumbled but didn’t stir.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, scooping him up with the grace of someone who had done this before.

Turning toward the desk, she found Professor Crewel still scribbling on his clipboard, adjusting his red gloves with precision.

Yue turned toward the desk, Grim still snoring in her arms, and found Professor Crewel jotting something onto his clipboard with immaculate penmanship. He adjusted his crimson gloves with a practiced flick, the click of his heels echoing in the infirmary’s quiet.

“Professor,” she called, tone polite but firm, “since our beloved headmaster has decided to vanish mid-sentence, could you kindly tell me where I’m supposed to go?”

Crewel glanced up, expression unreadable behind his tinted glasses. “You’ll report to my homeroom, classroom 1-A. And since the headmaster has conveniently left you wandering about without supervision, I might as well escort you there myself. Class begins shortly, and I will not tolerate tardiness, even from strays.”

Yue blinked. “Oh. That’s… unexpectedly kind of you.”

He sniffed. “Hardly. If you get lost again, someone will just blame me.”

She smirked a little, then looked down at the furball drooling slightly onto her borrowed uniform. “One second.”

With practiced patience, Yue shook Grim lightly in her arms. “Wake up, you loaf. Class is starting.”

Grim let out a low grumble and cracked one eye open. “Mrrgh… five more minutes…”

“Nope. You nap, you fail,” she replied, voice flat as she jostled him more insistently.

That got his attention. “Huh?! Wait- what?! Class?! I didn’t even eat breakfast!”

“You also didn’t do anything but snore while I was being poked and prodded by a man in fur,” Yue muttered.

Crewel cleared his throat loudly, clearly unamused. “If the gremlin is awake, let’s move. I’d rather not make a dramatic entrance because of you two dragging your paws.”

Yue nodded, readjusting Grim on her shoulder as the three of them exited the infirmary together. The polished tap of Crewel’s heels echoed through the hallway, his coat swaying with each confident step, a stark contrast to Grim’s sluggish complaints and drowsy muttering.

Yue watched the professor’s back for a moment, then glanced around at the unfamiliar halls of Night Raven College.

Seems like interesting stuff awaits me in this school, she mused, a faint hum escaping her lips as she followed a few paces behind Crewel, expression calm but alert.

Whatever came next, she was ready, well... probably.

End of Chapter.

Chapter Text

Crewel strode through the corridor like a storm in high fashion, heels clicking against the polished floors with unwavering precision, silver studs gleaming under the light, and his ever-present air of authority drawing glances from every direction. Yue followed a few steps behind, her borrowed uniform just a touch too big in the shoulders, the fabric brushing awkwardly against her skin. Still, it was a far cry better than her earlier outfit, and the faint scent of fresh linen reassured her it was clean, probably straight out of storage.

Students in the hall slowed or stopped altogether, whispering behind cupped hands. Some looked at her with open curiosity, others with wariness. A few even gave her sympathetic looks, clearly assuming she was in trouble. Walking beside, or behind, Professor Crewel could give that impression. But Yue simply kept her expression neutral, lips quirking ever so slightly. Let them stare. She was getting used to that already.

Crewel, on the other hand, didn’t acknowledge a single soul. His eyes, sharp as a hound’s, flicked toward every hallway and corridor like he expected Crowley to leap out of a broom closet and cause yet another catastrophe. The man’s composure was ironclad, but Yue could tell he was still fuming under that perfect vest and red gloves.

When they reached the classroom, Crewel didn’t pause. He simply pushed the door open and swept inside with an effortless grace. Yue lingered in the doorway for a moment, taking in the interior. It resembled a standard lecture hall, rows of long desks tiered slightly upward from the chalkboard at the front, morning sunlight spilling across the stone floor through tall windows. It had the typical buzz of first-period energy: papers rustling, chairs scraping, idle chatter humming like background static.

All of it stopped the instant Crewel entered.

Every student’s head snapped toward the front like they were on invisible strings. A wave of silence fell over the room, thick and awkward. And then they saw her, trailing in after him.

Yue caught more than a few wide eyes and double takes. She raised her chin a little higher, resisting the urge to pull at the oversized sleeve of her borrowed blazer.

Her gaze quickly found Ace and Deuce seated near the middle. The two were mid-conversation, animated and gesturing at something between them, probably arguing again. But the moment they spotted her, both boys froze like startled deer.

Ace's mouth dropped open. “Yuu?! What are you doing here?”

Deuce blinked in disbelief. “Wait—are you in our homeroom?”

Yue raised a hand in a lazy wave, her voice laced with faux innocence. “Surprise,” she said, slipping past the rows of desks with an ease that only came from pretending you belonged. She took the empty seat beside Ace and gently set Grim, still half-asleep and grumbling, onto the desk beside her.

“I’m officially enrolled now,” she added, smoothing the hem of her jacket. “Looks like you’re stuck with me. Try not to look so shocked. It’s bad for your complexion.”

Ace opened his mouth, probably to fire back some sarcastic quip, but for once, no words came out. He just stared at her, looking completely thrown off. Deuce looked equally dazed, glancing between Yue and Crewel as if trying to make sense of some impossible equation.

Yue leaned back in her chair with a small, triumphant smirk. After everything, surviving a monster attack, being tossed into an unknown world, and nearly dying of bureaucracy, this was a strangely satisfying moment.

And for the first time since arriving at Night Raven College, she felt something close to grounded.

Not comfortable.

But grounded.

At least for now.

The tension in the room didn’t so much dissolve as it shifted focus, away from her, and back to the sharp figure of Professor Crewel standing at the front of the classroom, his coat flaring slightly as he turned to face the students. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a long pointer out of seemingly nowhere and tapped it once against the chalkboard, the sound crisp and authoritative.

“Eyes forward, pups,” Crewel said coolly. “You’re no longer in middle school, and this isn’t a daycare. Welcome to Class 1-A, your first step into the advanced magical curriculum of Night Raven College.”

His voice carried easily through the room, clear, clipped, and commanding. No one dared to whisper. Even Grim, groggy as he was, sat upright beside Yue with his ears twitching.

“I am Professor Divus Crewel,” he continued, pacing slowly in front of the board like a wolf surveying his territory. “Your homeroom instructor. I expect punctuality, discipline, and a dress code that doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out.”

Yue raised a brow. Even his insults had style.

“You will address me as ‘Professor Crewel,’” he went on. “Not ‘Mr.,’ not ‘sir,’ and certainly not ‘dog man,’ as some uncultured gremlins have attempted in the past.”

A few students chuckled awkwardly. Crewel’s eyes flicked toward them, and the laughter died instantly.

“As your homeroom instructor, I will be overseeing your magical foundations, guiding your development, and ensuring you don’t blow yourselves, or each other, up before your second year. That includes daily assessments, weekly reports, and practical labs. If you are here to coast, flounder, or flirt” his eyes briefly locked on Ace, who immediately stiffened “you might as well drop out now.”

Yue leaned on one elbow, chin in hand. He had a presence, she’d give him that. Unlike Crowley, who felt like chaos in a mask, Crewel radiated control. Strict, yes, but with standards. And in a place like this? That might actually be useful.

Crewel stopped pacing and turned to the class again, his gaze narrowing.

“And before anyone starts frothing at the mouth, yes, there’s a new face in your midst.”

Yue straightened instinctively as every eye turned back to her. Wonderful.

“The new pup that had been following me behind just now is Yuu,” Crewel announced, without so much as glancing back at her. “He has been newly admitted under extraordinary circumstances. You will treat him with the same rules and expectations I demand of the rest of you. No more, no less.”

Yue didn’t flinch under the attention. Instead, she flashed the class a closed-lip smile and a tiny wave, like she was greeting an audience. The awkward silence that followed was... expected.

Ace leaned toward her, whispering, “So, like... you're actually a student now?”

“As of yesterday, remember?.” Yue whispered back. “Try to keep up, Ace.”

“I—what?!” His whisper-shouting earned him a sharp glare from Crewel, who snapped his pointer toward him.

“Mr. Trappola, if you’d like to demonstrate the volume levels of an expelled student, please, continue.”

Ace immediately snapped back into place, lips pressed tight.

Crewel clicked his pointer once more against the board. “Now, we begin our orientation properly. I trust you’ve all read the curriculum overview in your student packets, except, of course, our newest pup. I’ll provide her with the necessary materials after class.”

Yue sat up straighter, her mood sobering. She still didn’t have a schedule. Or textbooks. Or any real grasp of magic. She was technically enrolled, sure, but she was starting miles behind everyone else. Still... she wasn’t the type to flinch from a challenge. Let them stare. Let them whisper.

She was here now.

Let’s see what this school really has in store. She doesn't mind a good challenge.

Grim nestled against her arm and mumbled, “This guy’s strict... but better than that weird bird man.”

Yue smirked, eyes still on Crewel. “Yeah,” she murmured. “At least this one seems like he knows what he’s doing.”

After surviving her first week of classes at Night Raven College, Yue leaned back in her seat with a tired sigh, letting her head tilt toward the ceiling. The stone walls of the classroom still felt a bit cold and ancient, but at least they were familiar now, much like the strange, chaotic rhythm of the school itself.

The professors, for one, were a breed all their own. Each one carried enough personality to fill a room and then some. In some ways, they reminded her of the odd mentors and eccentric scholars her shishō had occasionally dragged her to meet during her earlier training. But here? It was like being thrown into a magical theatre troupe where every actor thought they were the lead.

Starting with Professor Crewel.

If she had to describe him in a word, it’d be dramatic. In two? Unapologetically extra. He was demanding, almost to the point of theatrical cruelty, and yet... competent. He expected his students to memorize every alchemical ingredient, its magical properties, and its historical uses by heart. Yue had filled nearly a dozen pages of notes trying to keep up, but oddly enough, she enjoyed it. There was order in his chaos—structure, rules, sharp corners that made sense.

That being said, his flamboyant praise and scoldings took some getting used to.

“Good pup!” he’d declared earlier that week when Deuce managed to successfully a pop quiz.

Ace, on the other hand, had been less fortunate.

He’d been too busy doodling a suspiciously muscular Grim in his notebook and hadn’t noticed when Crewel called on him. The resulting explosion, combined with Crewel’s unimpressed “bad boy” muttering, had left Yue snorting into her sleeve for a good minute.

Honestly, she half-suspected Crewel’s more chaotic lessons were his way of getting revenge on Crowley for sticking him with the freshman class.

Then there was Professor Trein.

If Crewel was an iron whip wrapped in velvet, Trein was... a weathered book come to life. His voice never rose above a steady, almost meditative monotone that could lull even the most determined student into a stupor. He taught History of Magic, Animal Language, and co-led Magical Theory with Crewel. The man was undeniably brilliant, just not particularly stimulating.

Yue found his lectures strangely soothing, though she had to actively fight the urge to let her thoughts drift too far. The historical context of ancient spells and their sociopolitical impact on modern mage society? Fascinating. His delivery? Less so.

Still, she admired the way his cat, Lucius, she remembered now, practically ruled the classroom with a single flick of his tail. A regal, dark-furred feline that perched on Trein’s desk like a furry judge presiding over the class. Yue had been tempted to reach out and pet him more than once but managed to restrain herself. Barely.

Grim had not shown the same restraint. He was snoring on the desk within ten minutes.

Deuce had valiantly tried to stay upright but was steadily nodding off by the halfway mark. Ace, somehow, had managed to take a strategic micro-nap while still sitting upright, until Lucius leapt onto his desk and swatted his forehead.

Yue had nearly lost it trying to stifle her laugh.

And then came Coach Vargas.

Where to even begin?

Coach Vargas was… passionate. Enthusiastic. Entirely too invested in the glory of physical fitness. He made it a point to flex his biceps at every opportunity, whether or not it was relevant, and referred to the students as “future champions of brawn.”

“Magical power stems from physical vitality!” he’d roared during their first Flying Broom orientation. “No strength, no flight!”

Yue had blinked slowly, unsure how flying equated to muscle mass, but she kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t eager to become an example in his next demonstration of ‘maximum core strength.’ The broom lessons had been postponed in favor of “muscle-building fundamentals,” which mostly involved brutal morning runs and upper-body exercises that left the entire class groaning.

Ace nearly quit mid-sprint, Deuce tried to keep pace but ended up flat on his back, and Grim… Well, he had bitten the handle of a broom in protest before getting benched.

Yue, for her part, did her best to pace herself. Her shishō’s training had been more spiritual than physical, but she wasn’t a stranger to endurance. Still, she’d forgotten how exhausting it could be to keep up appearances in a new place, especially one where magic was second nature to everyone but her.

As the last class of the week ended and students filtered out of the room, Yue stayed behind a few moments longer, watching the afternoon light spill through the tall windows. Her muscles ached, her brain felt like mashed fruit, and she was pretty sure she had at least three minor burns from alchemy class.

But despite everything... she smiled.

Night Raven College was chaotic, unpredictable, and utterly bizarre. But it was also fascinating. And if she could survive this week, maybe, just maybe, she could make this work. She could enjoy the life of a normal teenager.

“Let’s see what next week brings,” she muttered under her breath, slinging her bag over her shoulder and nudging Grim awake with her foot.

The little monster groaned, rolled over, and muttered something about tuna before staggering to his paws.

The halls of Night Raven College were still buzzing with chatter by the time Yue made her way down the main corridor, Grim trailing behind her, still groggy from his midday nap. His paws dragged with every step, and his yawns were loud enough to startle a passing first-year.

Yue rolled her eyes. “It’s lunch, not nap time, you know.”

“I’m a creature of luxury,” Grim mumbled, blinking up at her. “I require food and rest. Preferably at the same time.”

Yue didn’t dignify that with a response as the familiar scent of spices, fresh bread, and something vaguely fried wafted down the hall. Her stomach gave a quiet rumble in agreement. After a week of eccentric professors and questionable near-explosions, she’d grown surprisingly fond of the school cafeteria, if not for the food, then at least for the temporary peace it offered.

She pushed open the double doors, entering the high-ceilinged cafeteria filled with floating trays, enchanted cutlery, and the low hum of magical vents keeping the temperature just right. Students crowded long wooden tables, some chatting, others dozing, and a few frantically scribbling last-minute homework.

Yue scanned the room, and spotted a familiar head of red-orange hair waving at her from the far corner.

“Yuu! Oi! Over here!” Ace called out, standing halfway out of his seat and gesturing wildly as if she’d somehow miss him in a half-full room.

Next to him, Deuce gave a more polite wave, already halfway through his lunch but still managing to look like he was trying to sit up straighter the moment Yue approached.

Grim perked up instantly. “I smell grilled fish!”

“You smell free food,” Yue muttered as she crossed the room.

Sliding into the seat across from them, Yue dropped her tray onto the table. Today’s menu included roasted chicken, rice pilaf, and a bowl of soup that suspiciously sparkled. She wasn’t sure if it was magic or just the cafeteria being extra again.

Ace grinned at her. “So? How’s it feel being one of us now?”

“Painful,” Yue replied flatly, picking up her spoon. “But mildly entertaining.”

Deuce chuckled. “Better than terrifying, I guess.”

Yue raised an eyebrow. “Vargas’s muscle sermon came close.”

Ace groaned dramatically, slumping against the table. “Don’t remind me! My arms are still sore. He made us do fifty push-ups before letting anyone even look at a broom. I thought I was gonna die.”

“You said that every ten push-ups,” Deuce muttered, jabbing a forkful of vegetables into his mouth.

Yue smirked. “I thought you were faking it, honestly.”

“I was coping, thank you very much.”

As they bantered, Yue allowed herself a moment to relax, letting the rhythm of the cafeteria lull her. Grim had already snatched a fish fillet from her tray and was now perched beside her, tail swishing happily.

Between bites, she glanced at Ace and Deuce. Despite their frequent bickering, there was something reassuring about their presence, like they’d already carved out a space for her to fit into, no questions asked. Strange, considering she’d crash-landed into their lives just days ago.

“So…” Ace leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You staying for good?”

Yue didn’t answer right away. Her eyes drifted toward the high windows of the cafeteria, where sunlight danced through stained glass in muted colors. The warmth on her face was real, grounding.

“For now,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s see what this place has in store for me.”

Ace slumped into the seat beside her, groaning loudly. “Ugh, Professor Trein’s class is the worst. How does he make history so boring? I swear, I almost fell asleep three times.”

Deuce, sitting across from them, rubbed his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. “I don’t know how you do it, Yue. You actually looked like you were paying attention the whole time. I was struggling just to keep my eyes open.”

Yue chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s not that bad. Professor Trein’s lectures are… thorough. You just have to appreciate the details.”

“Appreciate the details?” Ace repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “More like endure the monotony. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone make the Great Seven sound so dull.”

Grim, who had been sulking on Yue’s shoulder since being caught by Lucius, Professor Trein’s feline companion, piped up. “Yeah, and that cat of his is a menace! I was just trying to get some fresh air, and he pounced on me like I was some kind of mouse!”

Yue raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “Maybe if you didn’t try to escape every five minutes, Lucius wouldn’t see you as a target.”

Ace snorted. “Grim’s just mad he’s not at the top of the food chain anymore.”

“I am at the top of the food chain!” Grim protested, puffing up indignantly. “That overgrown furball caught me off guard, that’s all!”

Deuce gave Grim a deadpan look. “You mean, after you tried sneaking snacks out of Trein’s bag when his back was turned?”

Grim’s ears flattened slightly. “That’s beside the point.”

Yue laughed softly, leaning forward to rest her arms on the desk. “Honestly, though… it’s kind of refreshing. Everyone here has their quirks. Even the professors.”

Ace stretched out, cracking his neck. “Yeah, well, some quirks are more tolerable than others. Crewel’s got his ‘bad boys’ thing, Trein’s got his history marathons… And don’t even get me started on Vargas.”

Deuce grimaced. “My arms still hurt from his ‘mandatory strength assessment.’”

Grim perked up suddenly, ears twitching. “At least lunch was good. Those tuna sandwiches in the cafeteria were decent.”

“Of course you’d focus on the food,” Ace rolled his eyes, though his stomach audibly rumbled a second later.

The late afternoon sun filtered lazily through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the classroom desks. Students had already trickled out, their chatter fading down the hallways, leaving just the four of them lingering in the now quiet room.

Yue let her gaze wander, her fingers tapping absently against her notebook. It was different here, chaotic, loud, sometimes overwhelming but not entirely unpleasant. Despite the grumbling and the antics, she could feel a faint warmth settling in. A sense of belonging she hadn’t realized she’d missed.

Grim yawned and curled more comfortably against her shoulder. Ace leaned back on two legs of his chair, balancing precariously, while Deuce busied himself straightening his notes for the next class.

Maybe this school wasn’t as strange as it first seemed.

Deuce sighed, leaning back in his chair. “At least you didn’t have to chase Grim halfway across the campus, Yuu. I thought he was going to get us all in trouble.”

Yue smirked, recalling the incident. “It wasn’t that bad. I just had to remind him that if he didn’t come back, he’d be missing out on dinner. That got him moving pretty quickly.”

Ace laughed, shaking his head. “Of course. The only thing faster than Grim’s escape attempts is his appetite.”

Grim grumbled something under his breath, though he didn’t deny it, his tail flicking irritably.

Their conversation continued lightheartedly, but Yue’s thoughts gradually drifted, the voices around her fading as her mind wandered elsewhere.

Professor Trein and her Shisho method of teaching are vastly different. His classroom, strict and unwavering, had a structure that left no room for deviations. He laid out the facts of history like stone tablets, unmoving, absolute, a timeline carved in meticulous order. His sharp eyes missed nothing, and the slightest whisper or slouch earned a warning glare. Each lecture unfolded like a march: dates, names, kingdoms, wars, all presented in a deliberate cadence that demanded memorization and respect.

Yet despite all the precision, it felt distant, like reading the story of the Great Seven through a foggy window, clear enough to understand, but hard to feel.

Her shisho breathed life into the past, turning dusty records into living, breathing experiences. Yue could still remember the lively debates, where students argued over whether the actions of the Scarlet Witch were justifiable from her perspective, or the roleplay exercises where she found herself standing in the shoes of forgotten kings, weighing impossible decisions.

Her shisho taught history not as a chain of cold, disconnected events, but as a web of viewpoints, where each decision shaped another. Students were encouraged to question, to empathize, to consider how tales of heroism in one kingdom could be tragedies in another. There was never a “right” answer, only perspectives waiting to be explored.

Yue found herself almost missing the chaos of those debates, the laughter and occasional frustration of trying to defend a position she didn’t fully agree with. And at the heart of it all, her shisho's steady, patient presence, guiding them without ever dictating the path.

She let out a soft breath, leaning back as Ace and Deuce continued their playful bickering.

Still, despite the contrast, Yue recognized something valuable in Professor Trein’s rigidity. There was a reason he was respected, his knowledge was vast, his standards high. While he might not spark passionate debates, he grounded his students firmly in the facts, ensuring they had a solid foundation.

It wasn’t exciting, but it was dependable.

And perhaps, she thought, there was something to be learned from both styles.

A grin tugged at the corner of her lips as Ace nudged Deuce with his elbow, the two swapping mock insults. Grim, now sprawled lazily on the desk, had seemingly recovered from his earlier indignation.

Yue watched them fondly, the weight of nostalgia giving way to something lighter.

There was still plenty to discover here, even if the lessons felt different.

She sat up, glancing out the window as the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long, golden rays across the room. Her thoughts were interrupted by Deuce

Deuce snorted. “Ace did throw a firecracker in Professor Crewel’s lab once, so we’re used to chaos.”

“That was an accident,” Ace hissed. “And it wasn’t a firecracker, it was an unstable catalyst. I was trying to enhance the reaction.”

“It exploded in your face,” Deuce said flatly.

“Yeah, but I learned something.”

“That you’re terrible at alchemy?” Yue offered helpfully.

Ace looked betrayed. “You wound me, Yuu.”

“Not as bad as you wounded Trein’s eardrums when you snored through his entire lecture,” Deuce muttered, stabbing his vegetables.

“Hey, you passed out too!”

“I was trying to stay awake,” Deuce countered. “Yuu was the only one who didn’t even flinch the whole time.”

Both boys turned toward her.

“You didn’t even yawn,” Deuce added, shaking his head. “And don’t get me started on Vargas’s training. Everyone was dying, and you looked like you were out for a jog.”

Yue just shrugged and sipped her soup, expression casual. “It wasn’t that bad. I’ve had worse.”

The boys stared at her.

“…Worse?” Ace echoed.

“Define ‘worse,’” Deuce said warily.

Yue blinked, thoughtful. “Shishō once made me sprint up a mountain while blindfolded to train my spatial awareness. Then had me fight three enchanted scarecrows at the summit. In the rain.”

Ace dropped his fork.

Deuce’s face froze mid-chew.

Even Grim stopped mid-bite.

“Are you okay?” Deuce asked, voice low and concerned.

“Did someone die?” Ace whispered, leaning in like she’d just admitted to a murder.

She leans back in her chair and looks sideways, thinking back of her shisho’s training.

Flashback

Yue woke to the sharp bite of wind tearing past her ears. Her eyes snapped open, only to realize that the sky was below her and the earth was above.

She was upside down.

A startled gasp caught in her throat as she instinctively reached out, only to realize her arms were free, because it was her ankle that was bound, tethered to a thick rope. The rope led upward, where-

Her blood ran cold.

High above, perched comfortably atop a majestic griffon with feathers that shimmered gold in the sunlight, sat her shishō. A woman in her mid-thirties, or at least, that’s what her youthful face suggested. With wind-blown black hair streaked with bleached blonde roots and piercing emerald eyes, she looked every bit the chaotic force Yue remembered… and feared.

Her shishō was smiling.

That deceptively serene, innocent smile. The kind of smile that meant nothing good.

Yue’s gaze dropped again to the forest far, far below. Hundreds of meters beneath her, dense trees stretched endlessly into the horizon. She was dangling over that.

“What. The actual. Hell,” Yue muttered.

The rope swayed gently as her shishō leaned slightly over the side of the griffon, holding the rope in one hand like she was out walking a particularly troublesome pet. “Oh good, you’re awake! Took you long enough, darling.”

Yue scowled. “Why am I hanging upside down over a death drop?!”

“Field training,” her shishō said cheerfully, as if she’d just suggested tea and biscuits. “I figured we’d shake things up a bit. Builds character.”

“Are you INSANE?!”

“Debatable,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But if you’re screaming, you’ve still got energy. That’s a good sign.”

“You tied me up and flew me over a forest!!”

Her shishō raised a brow, pretending to consider Yue’s point. “Well, you’ve got your knife on you, don’t you? Left side, waist.”

Yue’s hand instinctively felt the familiar grip of her combat knife at her hip. Her fingers curled around it, but her expression only darkened.

“…Why would I need this?” she asked, slowly, dread creeping up her spine.

That smile widened.

“Good luck surviving, youngest~”

Before Yue could fully process the words, she heard the soft snick of the rope being severed.

Gravity claimed her instantly.

“SHISHŌ—!!”

She plummeted with a strangled scream, wind howling in her ears, branches and treetops rushing up at terrifying speed. Overhead, she caught the glint of her shishō’s emerald eyes as the griffon let out something suspiciously close to a cackle.

Yue twisted midair, muscles tensing from instinct and memory. Her training kicked in.

Control your fall. Angle. Breathe. Survive.

She gritted her teeth, muttering every curse she knew, and inventing several new ones, as she reached for the trees below. Shishō’s going to pay for this. If I live through it, she’s getting buried in laundry duty for a year.

Yue blinked at them, and decided to spare them the details. “So far no one has died, well if close to dying count?”

“That’s not better!” Ace screeched.

“You’re terrifying,” Deuce muttered under his breath.

Grim, unfazed, stole a fish fillet from Yue’s tray. “That explains why you don’t cry during leg day.”

Yue just picked up her cup, holding it up with a smirk. “To character-building trauma.”

Ace raised his glass slowly. “To whoever that madman teacher of yours was.”

Deuce clinked his cup in. “May she never teach at this school.”

Grim snorted, tail wagging. “As long as she feeds me, I’ll call her anything.”

They all clinked their glasses together, amid laughter, disbelief, and the growing understanding that Yue might look calm and composed, but she was chaos incarnate in disguise. 

Yue smiled, but even as they laughed, her eyes flicked briefly to a group of students lingering a few tables away. She caught a few of them glancing her way, their whispers poorly concealed. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed.

Word had spread quickly when she first arrived, another student without an obvious magical background, personally admitted by the enigmatic Headmaster Crowley. Rumors sparked like wildfire: some claimed she was his distant relative, others whispered she’d only been accepted because of special connections. The fact that she hadn’t displayed any flashy magic during the entrance ceremony only seemed to fuel the speculation, and in their eyes, “magicless” meant weak.

It hadn’t taken long for a few cocky students to test the waters.

One afternoon, not long after classes had ended, Yue found herself cornered in one of the empty courtyards. A trio of upper-year students, smug smiles and condescending tones, had decided to “welcome” her properly. They threw around veiled insults, insinuating she must’ve bribed her way into the school, daring her to prove herself without hiding behind the Headmaster’s protection.

But Yue hadn’t risen to their bait.

Instead, she remained calm, observing each of them as they strutted and postured. She let them talk, quietly noting the way they underestimated her, relying solely on flashy magic spells and empty threats. When one tried to launch a weak binding charm her way, she deftly sidestepped, feigning a stumble, just enough to lure him off balance. Then, with a subtle movement, she tripped him into his companion, both crashing to the ground in a heap. The third hesitated, too focused on conjuring a complicated spell to notice Yue had casually slipped behind him, lightly tapping the back of his knee with her foot.

Before they realized what had happened, all three were sprawled awkwardly, their magic backfiring spectacularly as they blamed each other. Yue simply dusted off her uniform, gave them a polite smile, and walked away.

Word of that incident traveled faster than the initial rumors, but no one seemed eager to test her again after that. It wasn’t brute strength or loud magic that unnerved them, it was how effortlessly she had read them, anticipated them, and outmaneuvered them without so much as breaking a sweat.

Now, as she sat with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, listening to their banter, she felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. Adjusting to Night Raven College had its challenges, unorthodox professors, relentless training, and whispers behind her back, but she was holding her own.

And more importantly, she wasn’t doing it alone.

Her gaze softened as she watched Ace complain animatedly while Deuce tried to keep the peace, Grim already eyeing the cafeteria’s closing time like a ticking clock.

Despite the strange, sometimes chaotic nature of NRC, Yue was beginning to find her place. The school still had plenty of obstacles in store, but with friends like these at her side, she felt ready to face whatever came next.

The day had finally come for Yue to get her uniform fitted.

Grim, ever the troublemaker, had conveniently disappeared that morning, likely off-scheming with Ace and Deuce. She wasn’t surprised, he’d been grumbling about avoiding Professor Crewel ever since his latest classroom mishap involving a knocked-over potion set and a singed curtain. Yue could almost picture it now: Grim making a break for freedom while Ace desperately tried to cover for him and Deuce frantically cleaned up the mess. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips at the thought, shaking her head fondly.

Humming a soft, familiar tune under her breath, Yue made her way down the grand, winding corridors of Night Raven College. The castle-like halls stretched endlessly before her, bathed in the warm, golden glow of sunlight streaming through tall, arched windows. Outside, the sprawling campus lay beneath a lazy afternoon sky, the carefully kept gardens, ivy-laced walls, and ancient, twisting trees painting an almost serene picture.

The deeper she walked, the more she felt the unique charm of the school seeping into her senses. Everything here was steeped in history. The walls bore stories whispered over centuries, lined with grand oil portraits of stern-faced headmaster and illustrious alumni. Their painted eyes seemed to follow her movements, some filled with pride, others with judgment, as though silently questioning the worth of anyone who walked past.

But Yue kept her gaze forward, her steps steady, her mind focused.

Still, no amount of self-control could completely block out the hushed whispers she caught trailing behind her like shadows.

“Isn’t that the directing student?”

“He doesn’t even use magic, right?”

“I bet he only got in because she knows Crowley.”

“He doesn’t belong here.”

Each passing comment slid against her like a dull blade, annoying, but far from sharp enough to cut. By now, the murmurs had become almost background noise, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. She’d learned early that confronting baseless rumors only fed them. So, she simply kept walking, her expression unreadable, giving nothing for the gossipers to latch onto.

However, some students still felt emboldened by the crowd. As she rounded a corner, one particularly brazen boy stepped into her path, pretending to adjust his collar. At the last second, he casually stuck out his foot, hoping to catch her off guard. But Yue had been trained to notice details others overlooked. She saw the slight shift of his weight, the smug flicker in his eyes.

Without hesitation, she pivoted smoothly, avoiding the clumsy attempt as if stepping around a puddle. She didn’t even grace him with a glance, her stride never faltering. The student’s smirk faded as quickly as it had appeared, his plan foiled without fanfare. His friends snickered awkwardly, but Yue was already several steps ahead, uninterested in wasting energy on childish tricks.

The further she walked, the quieter the halls became. The crowd thinned until it was just her, her footsteps echoing against the polished stone floors. The air shifted slightly, tinged with an earthy, complex aroma, dried herbs, sharp perfumes, and the faint metallic scent of alchemical ingredients. She knew she was getting close.

Turning down one final corridor, she came to a stop before a tall, heavy wooden door, its surface polished to a shine. A brass plaque gleamed at eye level, inscribed in elegant script: “Divus Crewel.”

Yue inhaled deeply, instinctively straightening her posture. She smoothed her uniform, checked her sleeves, and knocked three times, her knuckles landing firmly against the solid wood.

“Professor Crewel, it’s me, Yue, the Directing Student. I’ve come for the uniform fitting,” she announced, her voice carrying just enough volume to be clear and respectful.

Inside, she heard the rustle of papers, the faint clink of glass bottles being shifted, and the unmistakable sound of a chair scraping back. After a moment’s pause, a familiar, commanding voice called out, slightly muffled but laced with authority and precision:

“Come in, pup.”

With his permission, Yue grasped the handle and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Immediately, she was struck by the fascinating duality of Professor Crewel’s office, an organized chaos that seemed to reflect every facet of his meticulous personality. The room was spacious, bathed in natural light pouring through tall, arched windows. The late afternoon sun cast golden slants across the polished floor, illuminating every corner and detail with a warm, inviting glow.

Her gaze first drifted to the right side of the room, where the air carried the distinct scent of herbs, metal, and faint hints of something alchemical, a mixture sharp enough to prickle the senses. This side was an alchemist’s haven. Shelves climbed up to the ceiling, each brimming with glass jars filled with vibrant powders, strange roots, iridescent liquids, and substances that shimmered faintly as if infused with magic. Old tomes and scrolls, their spines worn and pages marked by use, were stacked in no particular order, some left open to reveal cryptic diagrams and flowing handwritten notes. In the center sat a long, scarred workbench, cluttered but purposeful, bubbling flasks perched alongside distilling coils, delicate glass instruments, and half-assembled experiments, all hinting at Crewel’s precise mastery over potioncraft.

Yet, the moment Yue’s eyes swept to the left side of the room, it felt as though she had stepped into an entirely different world.

Here, the scent shifted, cleaner, infused with the faint aroma of fabrics and freshly cut thread. Mannequins stood in poised, statuesque elegance, each one adorned in tailored ensembles that ranged from sharp, formal uniforms to imaginative, avant-garde designs. The fabrics used were nothing short of opulent, silks in deep jewel tones, velvets rich with texture, and shimmering materials that caught the light as though woven with starlight. Shelves bore neatly arranged bolts of cloth, spools of thread in every shade imaginable, and an array of finely honed sewing tools. Against the wall, a large drafting table dominated, its surface covered with detailed sketches, precise measurements, and swatches of cloth pinned artfully onto an inspiration board. The meticulous order here spoke volumes of Crewel’s other passion, fashion design, where elegance met discipline.

And tying both sides together, standing firmly between creativity and control, was Crewel’s study desk.

Positioned near the window, it exuded an air of polished efficiency. Unlike the vibrant clutter surrounding the room, the desk was immaculately organized. Stacks of graded papers and lesson plans sat neatly in a tray, a sleek laptop closed beside them. A penholder, lined up in color order, accompanied an elegant desk lamp, its warm light pooling across the wood. Through the window, Yue could see the expanse of the campus, the well-manicured gardens and stone pathways stretching beneath the setting sun, the view giving the space an almost regal tranquility amidst the surrounding brilliance.

And there, near one of the mannequins, stood Professor Crewel himself.

His presence was magnetic as ever, dressed impeccably in his signature monochrome ensemble, a measuring tape casually draped around his neck like a silken scarf. Sharp, fitted gloves adorned his hands, each movement deliberate, exuding control and confidence. His gaze flicked toward Yue the moment she stepped in, sharp eyes gleaming beneath neatly styled hair.

"Ah, there you are, pup," Crewel greeted smoothly, voice resonating with that familiar blend of authority and refinement. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he gestured toward her with a gloved hand. "Let’s get you fitted, shall we?"

Yue nodded, stepping further into the space, already feeling the weight of precision and expectation settle comfortably over her shoulders.

Yue nodded silently, already moving to unbutton her jacket. Her fingers worked deftly, slipping each button free with practiced ease. In one fluid motion, she shrugged out of the garment, folding it neatly over her arm before setting it aside on a nearby chair. For a brief moment, her eyes flicked toward Crewel, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Thank you again for the medicine you gave me last week, Professor,” she said lightly, voice smooth but warm. “It worked wonders.”

Crewel, still adjusting the cuffs of his gloves, gave a dismissive wave of one hand. Yet despite the casual gesture, there was a faint, almost imperceptible softening in his sharp gaze.

“Of course, pup,” he replied, voice crisp but carrying an undercurrent of quiet care. “It’s my duty to ensure my students are always in top condition. I won’t have anyone under my charge faltering, be it from ailment or neglect.”

Without another word, he approached, rolling a measuring tape between his fingers, the metal ends glinting faintly in the sunlight. His notepad lay open at his side, pristine and ready. His posture radiated a calm authority as he surveyed Yue with a critical but professional eye.

“Now, stand still and follow my instructions,” he commanded gently, the slightest tilt of his chin encouraging obedience. “Arms out to the sides, please.”

Yue complied without hesitation, extending her arms gracefully to either side. Crewel stepped closer, the faint scent of herbs and fabric dye clinging to him, and began his work. The tape glided with practiced precision over her shoulders, down her arms, and around her waist, his fingers deft and methodical. Every measurement was scribbled down neatly, as if each number revealed something vital.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustle of fabric and the faint scratch of pen on paper. Then, without looking up, Crewel spoke, his tone casual but laced with something far more perceptive.

“Tell me, pup,” he began, voice smooth but unmistakably probing, “does Headmaster Crowley know your… true gender?”

Yue’s eyes flickered, glinting with something mischievous. A sly smirk curved her lips as she met Crewel’s gaze, unfazed by the question. “No, he doesn’t,” she replied easily, almost amused. “He never asked.”

Crewel paused in his measurements, brow knitting faintly as he regarded her. His fingers stilled on the tape, eyes narrowing just slightly, not in disapproval, but concern. His voice shifted, taking on a quieter, firmer edge.

“And no one has… forced you to keep it a secret, have they?” he asked, each word measured and deliberate. “If there’s something, or someone, making you hide, you need only say the word. You know I won’t tolerate that kind of nonsense.”

Yue’s smile softened, her head tilting slightly in thought. There was a certain calm, even amusement, in her eyes, an old game played many times over.

“No, no one’s forcing me,” she said lightly, almost teasing. “They just… assume. And I let them.”

Her smirk widened, and she added, tone airy but sharp beneath, “Besides, even if I told Crowley, I doubt he’d care enough to notice. He’s not exactly known for his attentiveness, is he?” She let out a soft chuckle, eyes gleaming. “In the end, I need information more than I need corrections.”

That made Crewel’s lips twitch, as if he were fighting back a smile at her audacity. His eyes, however, gleamed with something keener, curiosity sharpening to a point.

“Oh?” he drawled, rolling the measuring tape back between his gloved fingers. “Do go on, pup. I’m listening.”

Yue gave a small shrug, voice deceptively light, but with the practiced nonchalance of someone who’d weighed every word long before speaking.

“Well, it’s simple, really. People let their guard down when they think they’ve figured you out. When they think they know everything about you, they stop asking questions, stop watching too closely.” She let her gaze drift lazily around the room before returning to him, a sly smile still in place. “And in a place like this… information is far more valuable than clarity, don’t you think?”

Crewel let out a quiet, low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief, though the approval in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Clever little pup, aren’t you?” he murmured, stepping back as he finalized the last few notes in his pad. His tone, though tinged with amusement, soon shifted, taking on that familiar no-nonsense precision he was known for. His eyes fixed on her, gaze steady but not unkind.

“But let me make one thing clear,” he continued, voice cool but edged with conviction. “Twisted Wonderland and Night Raven College in particular, isn’t some backward society where you need to hide who you are. Quite the opposite. Here, women are held in high regard. Power, intelligence, ambition, those qualities matter, pup, not your gender. If anything, your truth would command respect, not diminish it.”

Yue arched an eyebrow at that, intrigued despite herself. She let the silence stretch for a beat, considering his words before speaking, a smile ghosting on her lips.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed,” Crewel replied, his tone firm but not unkind, each word delivered with deliberate weight. “Women here are seen as equals, leaders, scholars, innovators. Some of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland’s history were women, and their names are etched into the very foundation of our world.” He paused, his sharp gaze meeting Yue’s squarely. “At Night Raven College, we pride ourselves on fostering talent, pup. Not appearances. Gender has no bearing on potential, only what you choose to do with it.”

He let that sink in for a beat before continuing, voice lowering just slightly. “So, if you’re hiding as part of some grand strategy, well, that’s one thing. But don’t for a moment believe you must conceal yourself out of fear or shame. You don’t need to disappear to survive here.”

Yue met his gaze steadily, his words lingering in the air between them. For once, her ever-present smirk softened, giving way to something more contemplative. She rolled his statement around in her mind like a chess piece, weighing its value.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Professor,” she murmured at last, her voice even but edged with her usual cool confidence. Then the smirk returned, tugging at the corner of her lips. “But for now, I think I’ll stick to my strategy. It’s… entertaining, to say the least.”

Crewel gave a low chuckle, shaking his head in wry amusement as he set his notepad aside, smoothing down the crisp sleeve of his coat. “Very well, clever pup. I won’t argue further, though I’ll remind you: when the day comes that you need assistance, or perhaps someone to set that scatterbrained Crowley straight, you know where to find me.” He stepped back, his eyes glinting. “Now, let’s get your uniform sorted. I won’t have my work looking anything less than impeccable.”

As Crewel busied himself with adjusting fabrics and jotting final measurements, Yue stood quietly, though her mind was anything but still. His earlier words kept circling back, clicking neatly into place alongside something else, something more opportunistic.

An idea bloomed.

Her lips curved into a small, devious smile, one hand resting thoughtfully on her chin. She glanced toward him, tone casual, but with a purposeful edge slipping through.

“Professor,” she began smoothly, almost as if the thought had just occurred to her, “while you’re tailoring my uniform… could you also prepare a few other things for me?”

Crewel glanced up, an eyebrow arched in curiosity. “Other things?” he echoed, his voice mild but expectant.

Yue gave a faint shrug, as though the request were trivial. “Some casual clothes, undergarments, perhaps a few school supplies and daily necessities,” she listed off, her tone measured, almost innocent. Then, after a heartbeat, she added, “If possible, could you make sure the clothing conceals my… feminine features?”

Crewel’s pen paused mid-stroke, his gaze sharpening as he studied her face carefully. For a moment, he didn’t respond, as if weighing the reason behind her request.

“You didn’t ask Headmaster Crowley for all of this?” he asked at last, one brow rising.

Yue let out a short, humorless laugh, her expression slipping into something deadpan. “I’ve tried,” she replied dryly, folding her arms loosely over her chest. “Somehow, he manages to evade us every single time we go looking for him. It's almost like a magic trick, blink, and he's vanished. And if, by some miracle, you do manage to corner him, he’ll talk circles around you until you leave out of sheer frustration.”

Crewel sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair as if he too were all too familiar with Crowley’s antics. His lips twitched, halfway between annoyance and resignation. “Typical,” he muttered, then glanced back at Yue, expression softening.

“Well, it seems I’ve little choice but to indulge you,” he said briskly, already scribbling something in his notepad. “I’ll see to your clothing and supplies personally. Consider it part of my responsibility as your professor, though don’t mistake it as me encouraging the Headmaster’s incompetence.”

Yue’s sly smile returned in full force. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Professor.”

Crewel merely shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in reluctant amusement. “You are trouble wrapped in silk, pup,” he murmured, voice almost fond. “But if nothing else, I do admire your resourcefulness.”

Crewel sighed, long and heavy, the sound carrying the weight of years of dealing with fools and mismanaged responsibilities. A visible vein throbbed faintly at his temple, and he muttered something dark under his breath, words like “utter negligence” and “leaving an underage child to fend for herself” barely audible but laced with irritation. His gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, as though physically trying to ward off the migraine threatening to bloom.

Across from him, Yue stood with perfect innocence painted across her face, her smile demure and her wide eyes brimming with false naivety. “Then, Professor~” she sang sweetly, her tone sugar-coated but unmistakably dangerous, “what do you suppose would happen if word got out that the esteemed Headmaster left a supposed magicless girl to fend for herself? Alone. In an abandoned dorm that’s practically collapsing. Oh, and let's not forget, assigning her janitorial duties, sending her unaccompanied into unstable mine shafts, and letting her be mauled by monsters.”

Her voice remained light, but every word was a blade, sharp and deliberate.

Crewel’s eyebrow arched higher and higher with each point, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought to maintain his composure. His gaze flicked to her, assessing, and then, like a storm breaking, the realization struck. A slow, wicked grin unfurled across his face, the glint in his eyes mirroring hers.

“He’d be torn apart by the press, questioned by the faculty board… perhaps even a full investigation launched,” Crewel mused aloud, voice deceptively mild, though amusement dripped from every syllable. “Public scrutiny would be the least of his worries.”

His grin widened, taking on a razor-sharp edge as his eyes glinted with something close to admiration. “You cheeky little pup,” he drawled, clearly delighted now. “I like you already. So, you want me to keep it under wraps, for now, that you’re a girl?”

Yue’s smile bloomed into something positively feline, sharp as glass and twice as dangerous. “Precisely. We can get back at him later, once the pieces are in place,” she replied smoothly, her voice low and conspiratorial. “For now, I’ll stay under the radar, and you, dear Professor, can claim all the expenses from the Headmaster when the time’s right. After all,” she added, her expression perfectly innocent, “he is responsible for the well-being of his students, isn’t he?”

Crewel let out a rich, low chuckle, shaking his head in clear disbelief tinged with admiration. “You’ve got a devious mind, pup. Calculating, manipulative…” He paused, crossing his arms and giving her a look of approval. “I can’t say I disapprove. Perhaps you fit in NRC more than the students here”

He straightened, his smirk broadening into something almost predatory, a glimmer of anticipation sparking in his silver eyes. “Very well. I’ll handle it, uniform, casual clothes, undergarments, supplies, whatever you require. All tailored to your specifications, all billed to Crowley’s office. And I’ll make sure the Headmaster never sees it coming.”

Yue inclined her head, her eyes gleaming with barely concealed triumph, the game already unfolding in her mind several moves ahead. “Thank you, Professor. I knew I could count on you.”

Crewel’s grin sharpened, dark and gleeful. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Crowley won’t know what hit him.”

After her appointment with Professor Crewel, Yue decided to head to the library. She had a lot to catch up on, information about Night Raven College’s curriculum, the history of Twisted Wonderland, and its diverse populations. The grand library hadn’t changed much since her first visit on the night of the entrance ceremony, nor during Crowley’s futile attempt to research her hometown. Of course, he hadn’t found anything, her world didn’t exist here. But now, with some free time, she could finally explore the library properly.

As she stepped inside, the familiar sight of floating books greeted her, their pages fluttering softly as they drifted through the air. The library was as vast and imposing as she remembered, with towering bookshelves that stretched from the polished wooden floor to the high, arched ceiling. The shelves were densely packed with books of all sizes, their spines gleaming under the warm, ambient light of the chandeliers overhead. The gothic architecture, with its intricate moldings and arched windows, gave the space a sense of timeless grandeur. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and ink, and the soft hum of whispered conversations filled the room.

Despite the size of the space, it wasn’t particularly crowded. A handful of students sat scattered around the tables, noses buried in books. A few glanced up as Yue entered, and soon enough, she caught the telltale sound of whispers following her.

“Hey, look over there.”

“It’s him again!”

“Is that the guy from the opening ceremony? The one that broke a ton of stuff in the Mirror Chamber and got thrown out…”

“No, no, that was the cat on his shoulder. That kid can’t even use magic enough to break anything.”

“Hah! Don’t’cha know? On the first day of school last week, he even…”

“You’re kidding me! Why the hell is a kid like that here?”

Yue smiled faintly, amused by the whispers. It seemed she couldn’t escape attention, no matter how hard she tried to blend in. Her grand entrance during the ceremony, complete with Crowley’s over-the-top theatrics, had certainly made an impression. But she didn’t mind. The whispers were background noise, easily ignored as she made her way to the shelves.

The faint scent of aged parchment lingered in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of pages and distant whispers of students engrossed in study.

Yue wandered the aisles, her fingers trailing lightly over book spines, selecting volumes on magical theory, the Great Seven, and general world history. She eventually found herself at one of the long communal tables tucked away between shelves. As she approached a table, she noticed another student sitting at the far end. He was a young-looking, fair-skinned boy with short red hair that curled inward at the bangs, forming a distinctive heart shape at the top of his head. His bluish-gray eyes were focused intently on the stacks of books in front of him, his expression stern and unapproachable. The Heartslabyul dorm crest on his uniform caught her attention briefly, though she didn’t know much about the dorms yet beyond her brief meeting with Ace and Deuce.

What did catch her notice, however, was the atmosphere around him. A few other students nearby glanced nervously in his direction, quickly averting their eyes. Whispers trickled through the aisles.

“Why’s the tyrant here?!”

“Shhh! Don’t speak up, or it’s ‘Off with your heads!’”

“Is my uniform following the Queen of Hearts’ rulebook?!”

Yue flicked her gaze back toward the red-haired student. There was something intense about him. He didn’t seem to notice or care about the murmurs, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading.

But Yue wasn’t the type to poke her nose into things without reason. She slid into a seat at the opposite end of the table, quietly arranging her own books. Let the other students fuss if they wanted, she had catching up to do.

Even so, every so often, she’d glance up from her reading, sneaking glances at the solitary figure down the table. There was an air of authority about him, something sharp and disciplined, but it wasn’t immediately clear why everyone else seemed so tense.

Yue shrugged it off after a while, returning her attention to her books. She had plenty of mysteries to unravel without adding another one just yet. As she flipped through the pages, her eyes moved rapidly, skimming the text with practiced ease. To an outsider, it might have seemed like she was barely reading, but Yue had long since trained herself to process information quickly and accurately. Her shisho had thrown her into countless situations where she had to learn on the fly, whether deciphering cryptic texts in collapsing ruins or planning strategies while evading pursuers. This was no different.

The books themselves were fascinating. Twisted Wonderland’s history stretched back far longer than she’d expected, layered with conflicts, legends, and the legacies of the Great Seven. She absorbed each detail methodically, though her mind occasionally drifted.

Specifically, to the red-haired boy seated down the table. He was called Riddle if she remembers correctly, the one that collared Grim from the opening ceremony.

There was something about his presence, sharp, focused, almost suffocating in its intensity. He read with a kind of rigid precision, his gaze never wavering, his hands moving with careful deliberation. It was clear he took whatever he was studying very seriously.

Yue found herself wondering what kind of topic required that level of focus. Rules? Magic? Some secret tucked away in the Heartslabyul dorm’s lore?

But she shook the thoughts away, redirecting herself to the text in front of her. She had enough mysteries of her own to untangle without getting distracted by someone else’s intensity.

Some time passed in silence, broken only by the occasional shuffle of books or a whispered conversation in the distance. She barely noticed the hours slipping by.

By the time she finally closed the last book, stretching her fingers out, she realized she had managed to catch up on all the class materials she’d missed. Everything about Twisted Wonderland’s history, magical theory, the finer points of potion brewing, was now organized neatly in her head. The world around her felt just a little less foreign, a little more manageable.

As she gathered her notes, Yue caught sight of movement, the boy at the far end stood, collecting his own materials with mechanical precision. His eyes flicked briefly in her direction, bluish-gray meeting hers for a heartbeat, before he turned and walked away without a word.

The atmosphere around them shifted almost immediately. Students who had tensed visibly relaxed, conversations resumed, and the soft hum of the library returned to normal.

Yue tapped her pen against the edge of her notebook, thoughtful but not overly concerned. Clearly, there was something about him that set everyone on edge, but for now, it wasn’t her business. She had caught up with everything she needed to, and the next step was hers to decide.

She stood, sliding her books neatly back into place, her mind already moving ahead to the next challenge.

Yue tapped her pen thoughtfully against her notes, gaze lingering briefly on the spot where he’d been.

Interesting.

But she returned to her reading without dwelling on it.

Yue found herself in a less-than-ideal situation.

Tucked away in one of the more secluded corners of Night Raven College, where the stone walls were cracked and ivy hung low like claws, three upperclassmen had her cornered. The distant sound of chatter and footsteps from the main courtyard barely reached this spot. It was quiet. Too quiet.

The trio loomed over her, sneers etched across their faces. All three wore the same smug look that screamed entitlement and misplaced superiority. One of them cracked his knuckles dramatically. Another leaned on the wall beside her, clearly trying to be intimidating. The third simply crossed his arms and stared her down with a glint of disdain.

“Well, well,” the tallest sneered. “If it isn’t the little stray Crowley dragged in.”

Yue didn’t flinch. She stood with her back straight, her arms wrapped loosely around the books in her hands. Her gaze remained level and unimpressed, drifting from one face to the next with the same energy one might use when observing a pigeon trying to pick a fight with its own reflection.

“You’re just a magicless nobody,” one of them spat. “What, did you bribe your way in? Sleep your way into the roster?”

“Or maybe you’re just Crowley’s latest charity case,” the third chimed in with a nasty grin. “Pathetic.”

Yue slowly blinked. Then rolled her eyes.

“…Wow,” she muttered flatly. “Did you rehearse that in the mirror, or are you just naturally that cliché?”

The temperature dropped, not because of magic, but from sheer disbelief. The three stiffened. Clearly, they weren’t used to their victims talking back. Let alone bored.

She tilted her head, an almost curious glint in her eyes. “Honestly, I expected more. Throw in some originality next time, will you? Maybe insult my shoes or something.”

“You little—!” The one leaning on the wall stepped forward, anger twisting his features. “Think you're better than us, huh? Just because Crewel lets you tail behind him like some mutt?”

Yue raised a brow, shifting her weight to one foot. Her grip on her books didn’t tighten, she didn’t seem remotely threatened. If anything, she looked mildly inconvenienced.

“Better? No,” she said smoothly. “Smarter? Probably. Less desperate for attention? Definitely.”

The words landed like slaps. All three of them bristled.

Her calm demeanor was driving them mad. That distant look in her eye, as if she was already thinking about her next class, or maybe lunch, infuriated them more than if she’d screamed or cried. Her complete lack of fear made them feel small.

She sighed lightly, glancing at the narrow passage behind them.

Three of them. Limited space. The back wall’s solid. No Grim, no Ace, no Deuce. Can’t risk drawing staff attention unless I want a lecture or worse, Crowley 'pity.' Great.

Her gaze sharpened for a flicker of a second, cold, analytical.

Fastest way out… knock the loud one into the other two, disorient them, make a break for it. Minimal effort. Minimal blood. Hopefully.

But just as her fingers subtly shifted the weight of her books, ready to move—

The moment one of the upperclassmen grabbed the front of her collar, Yue’s expression changed.

Her lips curled slowly into a sharp, dangerous smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh?” she cooed, voice silk-smooth and laced with amusement. “Now you’ve given me a reason to defend myself.”

The grip on her uniform tightened, but Yue didn’t give them the chance to enjoy it.

In a blur of motion, she twisted her torso, using the hold against them. Her knee came up, hard and fast, landing squarely in the stomach of the one grabbing her. He let out a sharp gasp, the wind knocked clean out of him, stumbling back with a wheeze and crumpling to the floor.

The other two barely had time to react.

The second rushed in from her left, hands crackling faintly with magic, but Yue ducked low, sweeping his legs out from under him with a clean, practiced kick. He hit the ground with a thud and a sharp grunt, rolling over in surprise more than pain.

The third tried to grab her from behind.

Amateur mistake.

She twisted her body mid-turn, caught his arm, and used his momentum to hurl him face-first into the ivy-covered wall with a satisfying crack. He groaned and slumped to his knees, dazed.

Yue adjusted her uniform with a flick of her hand, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeves. Her movements were graceful and unfazed, like this was nothing more than a mild inconvenience during her day.

Then she heard rustling. One of them, probably the second one, had gotten back to his feet and was trying to slip away, limping and muttering under his breath.

She turned her head slowly.

“Now, now,” Yue sang, her voice lilting like a chime. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He froze. The tone was light, almost playful, but it made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

Just as she took a step toward him,

A shadow shifted high above on one of the stone balconies.

Someone had been watching.

Perched lazily against the railing was a tall, broad figure with tousled golden-brown hair and a perpetual scowl of boredom: Leona Kingscholar.

He glanced down at the scene with disinterest, yawned, then leaned back into the shade. Not his business. Definitely not his problem. He was just looking for a new nap spot, this corner clearly wasn’t quiet enough anymore. He decided to leave the place and find a new spot. Let the herbivores settle themselves.

Yue didn’t even notice him as she turned back to the first guy, who was now groaning on the ground, holding his stomach.

“You’re… you’re gonna get in trouble for this…” he wheezed, his voice hoarse and accusing.

Yue crouched slightly, her head tilting as she offered him a sweet, almost pitying smile. Her emerald eyes glittered with mischief.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said in a mock-gentle tone. “Who’s going to believe you?”

She stood, dusting off her pant with casual flair. “After all… and as you said yourself, I’m just the poor, frail, ‘magicless’ little first-year. You, on the other hand, are three upperclassmen who cornered me in a back corridor.” She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “Try spinning that story to a professor.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving them sprawled and groaning behind her.

As she exited the corridor and emerged back into the main courtyard, she smoothed her hair and adjusted her grip on her books, expression returning to calm neutrality.

Nobody would suspect a thing.

By the time Yue slipped into the classroom, Professor Crewel hadn't arrived yet, thankfully.

The room buzzed with idle chatter as students settled into their seats. Yue quietly made her way down the aisle and slid into the empty seat beside Ace, Deuce, and Grim, her steps light and unhurried, as though she hadn’t just finished dealing with a trio of upperclassmen in a secluded hallway.

Ace blinked at her arrival. “Whoa, look who’s fashionably late,” he muttered, glancing at the clock. “You usually beat me here.”

Deuce leaned in slightly, brows furrowed with concern. “Did something happen? You’re never late.”

Yue simply shrugged, placing her notebook on the desk with practiced ease. “Just had a little… disagreement with some upperclassmen,” she said casually, as if she were commenting on the weather.

There was a beat of silence between the trio as they exchanged glances.

“…Ah,” Deuce finally said, the understanding dawning on his face. “They learned the hard way, huh?”

Ace let out a low whistle. “Man… remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Grim snorted from atop his chair, arms crossed. “Pfft. Serves 'em right. They were dumb for messin’ with my henchhuman. Bunch of brainless tuna cans.”

Yue couldn’t help the small, amused smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She flipped open her notebook, flipping through clean pages until she reached her meticulously organized notes.

“Thanks for the concern, gentlemen,” she said sweetly, her tone prim and light. “But I assure you, everything’s been… handled.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “You say that like you didn’t just drop someone in a trash bin.”

She didn’t answer that, just smiled a little more.

Deuce gave her a sideways glance. “I don’t know what’s scarier… how calm you are, or how used we are to this now.”

Yue ignored them, pulling out her pen and adjusting the collar of her uniform. “Focus,” she said airily, “Crewel will be here any moment, and I refuse to let his dramatic fashion sense outshine my note-taking.”

As if on cue, the door slammed open with a flourish of white coat and the sharp clack of boots against tile.

“Sit, mutts,” Professor Crewel barked as he strode in, eyes gleaming behind his half-moon glasses. “Today’s lesson will separate the mutts from the purebreds.”

Yue straightened in her seat, calm and composed, already jotting down the title of the lecture.

Beside her, Ace leaned over and whispered, “You’re terrifying, you know that?”

Yue didn’t even look up. “Thank you.”

The classroom soon fell into silence, well, relative silence, as Professor Crewel stood at the front of the room like an emperor surveying his court, a long pointer in one gloved hand and a pristine white coat fluttering behind him as he turned with theatrical flair.

"Today, we will be exploring the properties of Mimiccap mushrooms, Silverdew petals, and Crimsonroot extract," Crewel announced, gesturing toward the diagrams projected on the board. "Each of these ingredients is vital in intermediate alchemy potions. Get cozy, pups, this will be on the test."

He clicked his pointer against the board with a snap. “Now, let’s begin. Mimiccap mushrooms, anyone care to enlighten the class?”

Hands awkwardly half-rose in the room. Crewel didn’t bother calling on any of them.

“Mimiccap,” he continued, “is a tricky little fungus known to mimic the properties of nearby flora. Highly unstable, particularly if paired with Silverdew. And speaking of Silverdew petals, common in restorative tonics, but introduce them to Crimsonroot and…” He smiled devilishly. “Boom.”

Ace flinched at the sudden tone shift. “I hate when he says ‘boom’ like that,” he whispered to Yue and Deuce, scribbling nonsense in his notes. “It’s never metaphorical.”

Yue’s lips twitched. “He does seem to enjoy explosions more than a professor probably should.”

Deuce leaned closer to peek at her notes. “Wait, which one reacts with Crimsonroot again?”

Yue angled her notebook slightly his way, murmuring, “Silverdew. Creates combustion. You’re thinking of Starleaf, it causes hallucinogenic mist when mixed with Crimsonroot.”

As Crewel turned back to scrawl something onto the board, Ace sneakily slipped Yue a small folded paper. Inside was a childish doodle of Crewel holding a leash labeled “Student Discipline” while Grim was in a collar and looking extremely displeased.

Yue choked back a laugh, covering it with a cough into her sleeve.

Then,

“Pop quiz,” Crewel declared, spinning on his heel. Half the class groaned in unison. “Let’s see if any of you were paying attention instead of passing ridiculous sketches under the desk.”

Ace and Deuce froze mid-note-pass, looking like children caught stealing cookies.

Crewel’s sharp eyes swept the room like a hawk. “Question one, what is the stabilizing agent for Mimiccap when used in concentration-based potions?”

Deuce stared at his page like it had suddenly turned into ancient runes. He tugged at his collar, panicked. “Stabilizer? Uh— uh—”

Yue tilted her pen and whispered smoothly, without moving her lips, “Moonshade moss.”

Deuce’s eyes lit up. “Moonshade moss!” he blurted.

Crewel narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. “Hmph. Lucky guess.”

“Question two. Which ingredient counteracts the combustion caused by Crimsonroot and Silverdew?”

Ace leaned toward Yue, looking lost.

“Frostvine,” she mouthed.

“Frostvine!” Ace called out confidently.

Crewel’s eyes narrowed further. “And Mr Yuu,” he said suddenly, turning to her, “what would happen if one were to mix diluted Crimsonroot with powdered Dreamthorn and activate it with heat?”

A hush fell over the room.

Yue tapped the end of her pen against her chin, furrowing her brows thoughtfully. “Assuming the Crimsonroot is under 50% concentration and the Dreamthorn is finely ground… the mixture would create a slow-release vapor. Not immediately lethal, but would cause drowsiness and hallucinations over time if inhaled, commonly used in sleep-inducing potions or magical anesthesia, depending on ratios.”

There was a long pause.

Then Crewel gave a sharp nod, his lips twitching upward with amusement. “Good pup. Seems like at least one of you knows how to behave properly.”

The class turned to stare at Yue in stunned silence, a few jaws visibly slack.

Ace blinked. “...Okay, yeah, remind me twice to never piss you off.”

“Three times for me,” Deuce added, still looking dazed.

Grim puffed out his chest smugly. “Told you, my henchhuman’s the best.”

Yue simply smiled, adjusting the ribbon of her uniform and returning to her notes as if she hadn’t just delivered a masterclass in alchemical application. Listening to Komui and Liliana rambling about herbs and alchemy didn't go to waste.

“Now, back to work,” Crewel barked. “Let’s see if the rest of you can keep up with Mr Yuu or continue embarrassing yourselves.”

And with that, the class scrambled to look busy, but all Yue could hear was the scribbling of pens… and the echo of stunned whispers trailing behind her.

Classes wrapped up just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. The trio made their way to the cafeteria for dinner, the familiar clamor of students filling the space. Yue walked a step behind Ace, Deuce, and Grim, her tray in hand, eyes forward. She was aware of the whispers, side glances, hushed murmurs trailing behind her like gnats.

“Isn’t he the magicless one?”
“What’s he even doing here?”
“I doubt he can even defeat any of us?”

Yue ignored them, her expression unreadable as she balanced her tray of food. She was used to being talked about. Gossip only had power if she let it. Let them wonder. Let them guess. She wasn’t here to make them comfortable.

Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce were already in their usual form, bickering over who took the last piece of grilled fish while Grim loudly declared everything on his plate to be “fit for a king.” Yue let the banter wash over her like background noise, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. These three could start an argument over air, but oddly enough, their chaos was starting to feel familiar… almost comforting.

As they took their seats at one of the long tables, Yue mentally reviewed her plans for the evening. Grim would eat himself into a food coma, as usual,and once he was curled up and snoring back at the dorm, she’d slip out. There was a patch of woods behind Ramshackle she’d scouted earlier, far enough from the main campus and quiet enough to be ideal for what she had in mind.

I need to test it, she thought, poking at her food. If I’m going to keep up in this school, I can’t keep relying on tricks. I need to understand what this magic is… and what I can do with it.

The thought stirred a familiar thrill in her chest, a mix of anticipation and the same kind of danger-high she got from surviving her shishō’s more “hands-on” training methods. With any luck, no one would be around to see her if she made a mistake.

Yue took a bite of her food, already planning which spell to start with. She glanced at the boys, who were still arguing, and chuckled softly under her breath.

“Idiots,” she murmured fondly, her gaze flicking to the cafeteria windows where the darkening forest beckoned.

Tonight will be interesting.

The stars blinked overhead as Yue slipped into the forest behind Ramshackle. The worn path was swallowed by shadows, but she didn’t need much light, her steps were confident, deliberate. She knew this route well. It was the one place she could breathe without eyes constantly tracking her, whispering, judging.

Grim had already curled up and passed out, drooling into his pillow after dinner. Ace and Deuce had been too busy bickering to notice her slipping out the back.

As Yue stepped into the clearing, the moon broke through the canopy in slender beams, painting the mossy ground in silver. She let her hood fall back, inhaling the cold air, sharp and damp with the scent of pine and soil.

Time to see what she had left.

She raised her hand, fingers curling with intention. With a quiet snap, a shimmer of magic coalesced into her wand, a sleek, elegant staff-like weapon with a twisted spiral of dark metal, glassy black with faint silvery-blue veins running through it. The flared ends gleamed under moonlight, the wand humming faintly in her palm like a beast recognizing its master.

“Let’s start small,” she murmured.

Her voice barely stirred the air as she flicked her wand in a slow arc. A ripple followed, and a faint illusion bloomed before her: a fluttering moth made of pale light, wings pulsing like a heartbeat. It hovered for a few seconds before fading, delicate as mist.

Yue tilted her head. “Stable. No flicker. That’s something.”

She raised the wand again, a subtle swirl of her wrist sending golden threads spiraling upward. Light magic, minor, decorative, spun like ribbon in the air, then dissolved into the wind. It worked. Not strong, but present.

“Okay,” she breathed, and her eyes narrowed. “Next.”

She adjusted her stance and flicked her wand toward the ground ahead. “Ignis.”

A small puff of flame sparked, barely the size of a candle’s tip, then fizzled into a lazy wisp of smoke.

“…Right. Fire’s still a joke.”

She wasn’t surprised. Destruction magic had been the most tightly sealed, unsurprising, considering her past.

With a sigh, she stepped back and closed her eyes. She let the quiet hum of the wand fill her mind, focusing. Her heartbeat slowed. Then, in one fluid motion, she thrust the wand downward, the tip pointing to the earth.

“Armament.”

The magic stirred sluggishly, like drawing from a deep, sealed well, but it obeyed. Shadows gathered around her wrist and spread outward, reshaping in a burst of light. A longsword solidified in her grip, gleaming steel with a slight glow along the edges of its runes. Light enough to wield one-handed, but perfectly balanced.

Yue’s breath caught, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Well, aren’t you loyal?”

She held the blade up to the moonlight, testing the weight. It was just as she remembered it. Summoning magic was intact, likely because the sword was bonded to her, soul-bound rather than mana-forged. It wasn’t just magic; it was hers.

With practiced grace, she stepped into a basic form. One slash. Two. A turn and sweep. The wind hissed softly with each cut. Even without full strength, the motions grounded her, precise, clean, efficient.

When she finished, she let the sword vanish in a quiet shimmer of light. Her magic might be sealed, but it wasn’t gone. She still had tools. Still had options.

Still had herself.

She took one last look around the clearing before tucking her wand away in a flick of her wrist, letting it dissolve into glimmering threads. Then, tugging her hood back up, she turned and melted into the shadows once more.

As the forest swallowed her up, Yue allowed herself one final thought:

Sealed or not... I'm far from powerless.

The steady crackle of the fireplace blended with the rhythmic patter of rain tapping against the grimy windows of Ramshackle Dorm. The usual drafty chill was softened by the firelight, casting flickering shadows along the worn wallpaper and sagging furniture.

Yue sat curled on the moth-eaten couch, clad in a soft, elegant set of pajamas, a custom gift from Professor Crewel, no doubt designed to be both comfortable and stylish. The fabric draped perfectly, subtly embroidered with delicate patterns only visible when caught in the right light. A chipped teacup of chamomile, also courtesy of Crewel’s refined taste, warmed her hands while Grim sprawled across her lap, his purring syncing perfectly with the storm outside. The gentle scent of the tea, faintly floral and calming, mingled with the scent of rain.

Her eyes scanned the yellowed pages of History 101: Queen of Roses, pausing on a passage about the queen’s infamous reign, an era dominated by rigid, contradictory laws enforced with ruthless precision. A ruler obsessed with control, whose iron grip only drove her kingdom closer to collapse.

Yue frowned, her thoughts wandering.
“This feels awfully familiar…” she murmured, voice soft. “Like the Queen of Hearts all over again. Clamp down too tightly, and things spiral anyway.”

Grim stretched, flicking his tail lazily without opening his eyes. “You’re thinkin’ too hard again, henchman. Who cares about rules and queens? Sounds like a headache.”

Yue smirked faintly, but before she could reply, a sharp bang bang bang echoed through the dorm, jolting both of them upright. The force of the knocking rattled the loose doorframe and shook a puff of dust free from the ceiling beams, swirling down like lazy snowflakes.

Grim sprang off her lap, his fur bristling.
“Who the heck’s bangin’ on our door at this hour?!” he snapped, glancing toward the entrance warily. “It better not be those creepy ghosts again.”

Yue set her teacup down carefully, the delicate porcelain clicking softly against the table. Headmaster Crowley wouldn’t bother knocking, he preferred appearing uninvited like a dramatic gust of wind. And the ghosts had mentioned they’d be away tonight, visiting the "other side." So… who?

The knocks came again, faster and more urgent, followed by a familiar voice.
“Yuu! Open up! It’s important!”

Her brows furrowed. Ace.

Grim glanced up at her incredulously. “Seriously? That loudmouth? What’s he gotten himself into now?”

Yue hesitated but reached for the door, cracking it open just enough to see Ace standing on the porch, drenched from the rain and clearly disheveled. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something halfway between panic and stubbornness. Around his neck, a black double-layered collar gleamed faintly, the outer edge lined with a subtle gold trim that caught the firelight.

Before she could ask, Ace blurted, “I can’t stay at Heartslabyul anymore. I’m moving in here. Permanently.”

Grim’s jaw dropped. “Myah?! Say what now?!”

Yue’s face remained unreadable, unimpressed. Memories of Ace from their first encounter flashed vividly, his smirk, his mockery at orientation, the way he dismissed both her and Grim like they were beneath him. Without a word, she closed the door in his face.

A muffled yelp followed.
“Hey! Don’t just slam it on me! I’m serious!”

Grim stared at her, wide-eyed. “You really shut the door on him! Aren’t ya at least curious what mess he’s dragged in this time?”

Yue crossed her arms, the smooth fabric of her pajamas rustling softly, tone dry. “If he’s in trouble, chances are he caused it himself. And after the way he treated us? I don’t owe him anything.”

But Grim’s ears twitched thoughtfully. “That collar though… somethin’ about it feels real familiar.”

Another series of desperate knocks sounded.
“Come on, Yuu! Let me explain!”

With an exasperated sigh, she yanked the door open again. Ace wasted no time stumbling inside, dripping rainwater onto the dusty floorboards. His usual swagger had been replaced with a scowl.

“Do you have any idea how cold it is out there?” he grumbled, shaking water from his bangs.

Yue remained unfazed, tugging her sleeves back neatly. “Cut to the part where you tell me why you’re here. And what’s with the collar?”

Before Ace could answer, Grim padded up to him, sniffing suspiciously. His eyes narrowed.

“Wait a sec… I know that collar. That’s the same one that crazy redhead stuck on me back at orientation!”

Yue’s eyes flickered in recognition. The Opening Ceremony, the fireballs, the chaos, the tall, red-haired boy in Heartslabyul’s uniform snapping a collar onto Grim. It glowed the exact same way.

Grim narrowed his gaze, crossing his tiny arms.
“What’d you do to get shackled with that thing, huh?”

Ace scratched the back of his head, grimacing. "I ate a tart."

Yue blinked, her face caught between disbelief and confusion. "You... ate a tart?" she repeated slowly, as though convinced she’d misheard.

Ace threw his hands up in exasperation. "Yeah, that’s it! That’s all I did! I was hungry, okay? So I went down to the dorm kitchen and found some tarts in the fridge. Three whole tarts! Big ones, too!"

He flopped onto the couch, glaring at the fireplace as if it personally offended him. His muddy sneakers left faint marks on Yue's pristine rug. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Shoes off," she ordered, gesturing to the offending footwear.

Ace groaned but begrudgingly obeyed, kicking them off with an exaggerated huff. Meanwhile, Grim, already curled up lazily on the couch,flicked his tail in clear amusement at the scene unfolding before him.

Without another word, Yue retreated to the kitchen. She moved fluidly, reaching for the tea leaves stored in neat jars, the chamomile blend unmistakably one of Professor Crewel’s signature creations. She brewed an extra cup, figuring if Ace was going to fill her living room with complaints, he might as well do it with something warm in his hands.

By the time she returned, she noticed Ace had sunk further into the couch, arms crossed and scowl still firmly in place. Grim occupied his usual spot, eyes half-lidded, ears perked to eavesdrop. Setting the tea in front of Ace, Yue sat across from him, clad comfortably in soft pajamas, another of Professor Crewel’s thoughtful creations.

"Alright," she said flatly, hands resting in her lap. "Explain. How does eating a tart get you banned from your dorm?"

Ace perked up, clearly eager to vent. "It happened like, less than an hour ago! I’d just gotten back from basketball team tryouts, crushed it, by the way, and I was starving. I totally skipped dinner. So I’m wandering the labyrinth of Heartslabyul, trying not to keel over, and finally, I hit the kitchen. And there they were. Three perfect tarts, sitting there like some pastry miracle. I thought, 'Hey, no one’s around. One tiny slice won’t hurt.'"

He leaned forward, voice lowering conspiratorially. "So I grab a fork, take a bite, and then, bam! This voice behind me goes, 'Of course they’re good. Trey made them. His tarts are always exceptional.'"

Yue arched an eyebrow as Ace’s expression shifted to one of mock horror.

"I didn’t even realize it was Housewarden at first," Ace continued, perfectly mimicking Riddle’s clipped, prim voice. "'That you would dare touch something of MINE… Well, I’m impressed with your audacity. But the Queen of Hearts’s Rule 89 is explicit: Never eat a tart without the Queen’s permission.'"

Ace flopped backward dramatically, his arms flailing as he recounted his ordeal. “And then he launched into his whole spiel. Next thing I know, BAM! Collared! Magic sealed, kicked out on the spot!”

Yue watched him quietly, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her teacup. Grim, curled up on the couch, blinked slowly, his expression unimpressed.

“So… you got kicked out because you ate a tart,” Grim deadpanned, his tone dripping with skepticism.

“I guess…?” Yue added, her voice tinged with doubt.

Ace snapped upright, glaring at them both. “What kinda wishy-washy answer is that?! Yes! What part of that’s hard to understand?”

Grim rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his tail flicking. “Yeah, but… I mean, if there were three of ’em, they were probably for a party. Maybe it was someone’s birthday or somethin’? Lookit that! I’m, like, a master detective too!”

Ace’s face fell as the realization dawned on him. “A birthday party, huh…?” he muttered, his voice tinged with dread.

Yue crossed her arms, her gaze steady. “Did you even apologize?”

Ace gave her an incredulous look. “Man… I thought you’d be more sympathetic! I’m a victim of the housewarden’s tyranny here!”

“He may have been a little extreme… but you’re also at fault,” Yue said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“But you stole food! That ain’t cool!” Grim added, wagging a claw at Ace.

“Aw, you gotta be kiddin’ me!” Ace groaned, slumping back dramatically. “It was one bite! I didn’t know it was some grand tea ceremony!”

“You don’t go messin’ with another man’s meal…” Grim muttered, eyeing Ace critically. Then, suddenly perking up, he gasped, “Hey, wait a minute! I just realized I never got those cans of tuna the headmaster promised me!”

Ace threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s not obscure! It’s Rule 89! ‘Never eat a tart without the Queen’s permission.’ But come on, who even follows all 810 rules? Half of them don’t even make sense!”

Yue raised an eyebrow. “810 rules?”

Ace groaned, slumping back into the couch. “Yeah. Riddle’s obsessed with them. He enforces every single one, no matter how ridiculous. It’s like living in a dictatorship. Everyone’s walking on eggshells, and if you break even the smallest rule, he goes full ‘Off With Your Head’ on you.”

Yue sighed, her expression thoughtful. “Sounds like a nightmare. But why come here? What do you expect me to do about it?”

Ace leaned forward, his usual smirk returning. “Because you’re the only one who’s not afraid to stand up to people. You’ve got a way of figuring things out, and… well, I thought maybe you could help me talk some sense into Riddle. Or at least get this stupid collar off me.”

Ace huffed, crossing his arms. “Alright, alright. Fine. I get that I should apologize. But you’re coming with me, Yuu. This was your idea, after all.”

Yue stared at him for a long moment, weighing her options. On one hand, getting involved in Heartslabyul’s internal drama was the last thing she wanted. On the other hand, if Riddle’s obsession with rules was causing this much chaos, it was only a matter of time before it spilled over into the rest of the school.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone resigned. “But if this turns out to be some petty squabble, I’m kicking you out myself. Also, you’re sleeping on the couch. None of the other rooms are habitable, and like hell I’m letting you into my room.”

Ace brightened immediately, throwing her a grin. “Deal!”

Grim snorted from the couch. “It’s literally over a tart.”

Yue shook her head, glancing once at the fireplace before setting her tea down. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was only the beginning of something far stranger. Her instincts prickled, a quiet voice in the back of her mind warning her that whatever lay ahead wasn’t just about dorm rules or petty squabbles. It felt like something unexpected was looming, something tangled deeper within the strange logic of this world. For a fleeting moment, an image stirred at the edge of her memory, a half-forgotten dream from her first night at NRC, hazy and elusive. She brushed it aside then, but now, she wondered if she should’ve paid more attention.

As per her morning routine, Yue woke up early, well before the sun rose. No matter how late she slept, her body had long been trained to rise with the first light, a habit ingrained after years of disciplined mornings. The quiet before dawn always felt like her sanctuary.

Grim was still curled up at the foot of the bed, snoring softly, occasionally muttering something about tuna cans in his sleep. Yue smiled faintly at the sight, careful not to disturb him as she slipped out of the room. Her footsteps were light as she made her way downstairs, the old wooden floor creaking faintly beneath her.

In the dim light of the living room, Ace was sprawled across the battered sofa, his blanket tangled haphazardly around him, one leg hanging off the edge. Yue paused, tilting her head in mild amazement at how comfortable he seemed despite the less-than-luxurious accommodations. She quietly adjusted the blanket over him, making sure it covered his shoulders before stepping outside.

The crisp morning air greeted her as she stepped onto the porch. The Ramshackle yard, if it could even be called that, was overgrown, with wild grass and weeds poking stubbornly through the cracked stone path. The stone gate at the edge of the property loomed like a relic from a forgotten era, its weathered surface hinting at better days long past.

Taking a deep breath, Yue closed her eyes, letting the cool air fill her lungs. The stillness of the morning soothed her mind. Without wasting another moment, she moved onto the uneven ground and began her daily martial arts routine.

She started with simple stretches, her muscles unwinding smoothly. Each motion flowed effortlessly into the next, her limbs slicing through the air with grace and precision. She shifted seamlessly into a series of sword dance movements, her imaginary blade whistling silently with each arc and spin. Her footwork was deliberate, grounding her as she twisted and turned, a silent dance of balance, discipline, and power. The rising sun cast long shadows across the yard, painting her movements in soft gold. Sweat shimmered faintly on her brow as she finished the final stance, exhaling slowly.

By the time the sun had climbed fully above the horizon, Yue felt centered and ready. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve and stepped back inside, the familiar creak of the door echoing behind her.

After a quick shower, she laid out the uniform Professor Crewel had given her. The fabric was crisp, tailored perfectly to her frame, disguising her feminine figure beneath its sharp lines. She couldn’t resist doing a small twirl in front of the mirror, feeling oddly pleased by how well it fit.

Returning to the living room, she spotted Grim still snuggled up in bed, murmuring nonsense as he dreamt. Yue leaned over and gently shook him. “Grim, wake up,” she called softly.

“Mwrahh… five more minutes…” Grim muttered, pawing vaguely at the air.

Sighing, Yue picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Grim yelped awake, his fur puffed up. “M-MWAHH! Hey! You could’ve woken me gently!”

Her expression didn’t budge. “I tried. You didn’t budge. Now go wash up while I make breakfast.” She set him down in front of the bathroom, ignoring his grumbling as she turned back to the living room.

Ace, unsurprisingly, was still dead to the world on the sofa. Yue considered yanking the blanket off him, but before she could act, a loud knock sounded at the front door. She paused, brows furrowing, who would come visiting this early?

The knocking grew more insistent. She walked to the door and pulled it open, revealing Deuce mid-knock, his fist still raised. He blinked in surprise, his stern expression briefly softening.

“Oh! Yuu? Uh… morning,” Deuce greeted awkwardly. “I was looking for Ace. That idiot caused a mess back at the dorm, and Housewarden’s not exactly in a forgiving mood.”

Yue blinked once, then offered a small smile. “Good morning to you too, Deuce. Ace is inside. Still sleeping, actually. He stayed over.” She stepped aside, her smile turning slightly mischievous. “Feel free to wake him up. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Deuce hesitated at the threshold, eyes flicking around the rundown foyer of Ramshackle. His brows furrowed further. “You live here?” he muttered, his tone tinged with disbelief. “It’s… really falling apart.”

He clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath his calm. “That Headmaster-! How can he leave you like this?”

Before he could spiral further, Yue stepped closer and casually pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Don’t worry about that. I have my ways with Headmaster Crowley,” she said lightly, her eyes glinting with a teasing spark. She giggled softly, removing her finger and gliding back toward the kitchen, leaving Deuce momentarily flustered and frozen in place.

Snapping back to himself, Deuce took off his shoes and made his way to the living room. He stood over Ace’s sleeping form, unimpressed. Without hesitation, he yanked the blanket off and delivered a swift kick to the edge of the sofa.

“GAHH—?!” Ace flailed, tumbling onto the floor. “What the hell?!”

Deuce crossed his arms, deadpan. “Aren’t you embarrassed? Sleeping soundly in someone else’s dorm, after everything yesterday?”

Ace groaned, rubbing his neck. “Deuce, what a wake-up call. Chill, man.”

Deuce scowled. “Of course you ran here after stirring up trouble back home. How dumb do you have to be to get caught sneaking the Housewarden’s food? Are you trying to die, idiot?”

“Shut up! Like you’ve never gotten into trouble!” Ace shot back, scowling. “Is he still mad?”

Deuce shrugged. “Not mad, exactly. Just... a little irritated. A few guys overslept, three of them got your treatment.”

Ace paled slightly. “You call that not mad?! Sounds like he’s still on the rampage.”

Their bickering blended into the background as Yue calmly prepared breakfast, the smell of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee soon filling the space. Grim trotted downstairs, ears twitching irritably. “Ugh, why are they so noisy this morning?” he grumbled, nose twitching at the scent of food.

“Because it’s Ace and Deuce,” Yue replied smoothly, setting plates on the table. “Now sit, breakfast’s ready.”

She glanced meaningfully at Ace, who was still ruffling his hair. “Shower first, then eat. I’m not letting you sit at the table like that.”

Ace grumbled something under his breath but shuffled obediently toward the bathroom.

Turning to Deuce, Yue’s expression softened slightly. “There’s enough food. You’re welcome to join us.”

Deuce blinked, taken aback, before his lips quivered into a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll stay.”

As they gathered around the old, slightly uneven table, soft beams of sunlight filtered through the cracked windows of Ramshackle Dorm, casting warm patterns on the worn wooden floor. Dust motes danced lazily in the golden light, the quiet hum of morning creating a bubble of peace that felt rare and precious. For a brief moment, the disarray of yesterday's chaos seemed like a distant memory.

Ace, freshly showered but still toweling off his damp hair, dropped into his seat beside Deuce with his usual lack of grace. The delicious aroma of pancakes, butter, and freshly brewed coffee had lured him in like a magnet, and his grin spread wide across his face.

“Man, I honestly thought you didn’t have any food left in this dump, what with how Headmaster’s been dodging you lately, Yuu.” He spoke with a teasing lilt, though there was a genuine undertone of curiosity behind the joke.

Yue, ever composed, didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she lifted her teacup with measured poise, blowing gently across the surface before taking a slow sip. Her gaze was calm, unreadable, as if Ace’s comment didn’t warrant more than a passing thought. Finally, she set the cup down and met his eyes, her voice smooth.

“Who said I asked the Headmaster?”

Across the table, Deuce froze mid-motion, butter knife still hovering over his pancake. He blinked at her, clearly caught off guard. “Wait… if not Crowley, then… who did you ask?”

Yue tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Professor Crewel.”

Her reply was delivered so matter-of-factly, so casually, it took a full second to sink in. Both Ace and Deuce turned to gape at her in unison, mouths slightly agape, expressions a perfect blend of shock and disbelief.

“WHAT?!”
“HOW?!”

Their voices overlapped in a near shout, filling the once serene morning air with their incredulous confusion.

Across from them, Grim didn’t even look up from where he was diligently gnawing on his beloved tuna can. Completely unfazed by the commotion, he spoke between bites, his tone as nonchalant as if explaining the weather.

“Henchman made some kinda deal with him. Don’t ask me how. He just did.”

Yue merely arched an eyebrow, offering no further explanation. Watching the two boys scramble to piece together how she'd managed such an improbable feat was, admittedly, a quiet amusement of its own.

Ace shook his head in exasperation, muttering under his breath about "impossible prefects" while Deuce continued to stare, looking as if he couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or concerned.

Ace leaned forward, practically bouncing in his seat, eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re seriously telling me you made a deal with Professor Crewel? That Professor Crewel? The one who terrifies the entire class with his ‘bad boy’ speeches and waves around that leather crop like he’s ready to send us all to detention for life?” His voice cracked slightly at the sheer absurdity of the idea.

Yue didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, she calmly set her teacup down with a soft clink, her posture relaxed. “He’s not that scary once you get to know him,” she replied smoothly. “I explained my situation. He listened. He agreed to help. That’s all.”

As if it was the most mundane thing in the world.

Deuce, meanwhile, had frozen, his fork poised halfway to his mouth, pancake forgotten. His brow furrowed in confusion. “But... he’s so strict,” Deuce mumbled, as if still trying to wrap his head around it. “I’ve never seen him give anyone even a second chance. Let alone offer help. How’d you even manage to talk to him without him glaring at you?”

Yue’s lips twitched, a faint smirk curling at the corners. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, though her tone remained light. “Maybe it’s because I actually pay attention in class. I don’t skip lectures or sleep through his assignments.” She let her gaze drift meaningfully toward Ace. “Unlike some people.”

Ace threw his hands up dramatically, feigning outrage. “Hey! I pay attention. Sometimes.” He leaned back, crossing his arms with a huff. “Okay, maybe not as much as you, but still! You’re like the ultimate teacher’s pet or something. First you’re getting favors from Crewel, then Trein’s praising you in class, what’s next? Helping Vargas develop the next big muscle-building technique?”

Yue gave a quiet snort but didn’t rise to the bait, taking another sip of her tea.

Before Ace could continue his grumbling, Deuce cut in, his voice earnest and genuine. “I think it’s impressive, honestly.” He glanced at Yue, sincerity clear in his expression. “You’ve only been here a few weeks, and you’re already keeping up with everything like it’s second nature. The way you answered Professor Crewel’s question yesterday, it sounded like you’ve been studying alchemy for years. I wish I could be that confident.”

His words lingered in the air, the morning sunlight catching just right on the edges of Yue’s calm expression. She didn’t reply immediately, but her eyes softened slightly as she glanced between the two boys.

Ace snorted, tipping his chair back as he jabbed a thumb in Yue’s direction. “Yeah, yeah, Deuce, we get it. You’re totally in awe of Yue’s genius. But let’s not forget, he’s also the one who got us into this whole mess with Riddle in the first place.”

Yue arched an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I got us into this mess?” she echoed, voice calm but laced with pointed amusement. “Last I checked, you’re the one who ate the tart, Ace.”

Ace opened his mouth, ready to fire back, only to immediately falter. His eyes darted away as he realized there wasn’t much of a defense. Instead, he shoved a large forkful of pancake into his mouth, grumbling under his breath in defeat.

Deuce, however, was far from done. He set his fork down, leaning forward with genuine curiosity lighting up his face. “Seriously, though, Yue. How do you do it? You’re always so calm and collected, even when things go completely sideways. You’ve already got Professor Crewel backing you, and now you’re somehow navigating all this chaos like it’s nothing. If you keep this up, you’ll end up being the model student of Night Raven College.”

Yue’s lips quirked upward, a quiet chuckle escaping her as she shook her head. “I’m not aiming to be anyone’s model student,” she said simply, her tone measured but firm. “I just do what I have to do to get by. If that means cutting deals with strict professors or staying a step ahead of whatever madness you two drag me into, so be it.”

Ace, now swallowing his mouthful, grinned and pointed his fork at her with mock accusation. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re like some kind of mastermind. Next thing we know, you’ll be running the school.”

Yue rolled her eyes again, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Let’s focus on surviving today first. We’ve still got classes to sit through, and unless I’m mistaken, Riddle’s probably lurking somewhere, waiting for an apology.”

Ace groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back against the chair with a loud sigh. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Facing Riddle first thing in the morning feels like signing my own death warrant.”

Deuce gave him a sympathetic, yet firm pat on the shoulder. “Well, you kind of brought this on yourself, Ace. You knew better than to mess with Riddle’s rules.” His voice softened slightly. “But don’t worry. We’ve got your back, right, Yue?”

Yue reached for her teacup again, her tone casual but sincere as she replied, “Of course. But fair warning, if you try to sneak another tart today, you’re on your own.”

Ace gave an exaggerated pout but couldn’t hide the grin creeping across his face. Deuce chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, while Grim remained contentedly focused on licking the remnants of his empty tuna can.

As they finished off the last of their breakfast, the sunlight filtered gently through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. The peacefulness of the morning, the laughter, and even the bickering, all of it settled around Yue like a quiet reassurance. Despite the chaos they seemed to attract and the challenges ahead, moments like these reminded her she wasn’t facing this strange, unpredictable world alone. And as long as she had her friends by her side, she knew she could handle whatever came next.

End of Chapter

Chapter Text

Main Street basked in the gentle embrace of the early morning sun, its golden rays spilling over cobblestones and casting long shadows beneath the towering trees. The sky stretched out in an endless, cloudless expanse of soft blue, and the crisp autumn air was laced with the faint scent of fallen leaves and the earthy freshness of dew-drenched grass. Trees flanking the path stood proudly ablaze, their canopies painted in fiery shades of crimson, amber, and gold, each leaf fluttering and whispering in the light breeze. It was the kind of morning that felt almost like a dream, so calm and picturesque it made it easy to forget the commotion of the day before.

The street remained quiet at this hour, the usual bustle still a distant murmur. A handful of students lingered here and there, chatting idly or strolling lazily toward their destinations. Occasionally, a ghost drifted past, some dressed in faded top hats, their spectral canes tapping rhythmically against the ground, while others sported aprons and chef’s hats, gliding purposefully as if hurrying off to prepare some unseen feast.

Yue slowed her pace to match Deuce’s, her hands tucked casually into her pockets. She let herself hum a quiet, tuneless melody, her eyes half-lidded as she breathed in the fresh, cool air. For a fleeting moment, she closed her eyes entirely, allowing the breeze to brush against her face and enjoying the rare tranquility the morning offered.

Up ahead, the peace was broken by Grim, who seemed determined to milk Ace’s misfortune for all it was worth. The little creature marched confidently down the street, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads. “Move it! Outta the way! Night Raven College student comin’ through!” Grim announced, chin held high as he strutted forward. He glanced smugly over his shoulder at Ace, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Oh? Did my collar catch your eye? Bet it’s way better than the one you’re stuck with! You know, the one that keeps ya from usin’ magic? But hey, no worries, the school’s always lookin’ for another janitor! Bwahahaha!”

Ace growled low in his throat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as if he were just barely restraining himself from lunging at Grim. “Grrrrr! Keep laughing, furball! The second I get my magic back, you’re first on my hit list!”

Grim didn’t even flinch, grinning wickedly as he strutted ahead without a care. “Ooh, I’m quakin’ in my paws! Real scary, Collared Wonder,” he shot back, tossing Ace a smug glance over his shoulder.

Deuce exhaled heavily, the weariness clear in his expression as he watched the back-and-forth unfold. “Seriously, Ace,” he said, voice edged with exasperation but still calm, “the headmaster just warned you last week, no more trouble. Do you really want to add getting detention to your list of problems? Plus, you won’t even be able to participate in class until that collar comes off. Why not just swallow your pride and apologize to the Housewarden? It’s not like it’ll kill you. Seems like a small price to pay if it means getting your magic back.”

Ace groaned dramatically, dragging his hands down his face in pure frustration. “Aaaaargh! I hate this! I hate this so! SO! Much!” His voice echoed off the quiet street, drawing the attention of a few passing students and floating ghost staff who paused to glance curiously at the scene. Yue, walking just a few steps behind, casually looked away, feigning innocence as she fought to keep a straight face. The slight twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her amusement, though she made no move to intervene.

Grim, thoroughly entertained by Ace’s meltdown, showed no signs of letting up. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a paw. “Ya know, we’ve got a little time to kill before class starts. And I’ve been wonderin’ what the other dorms are like… Guess I’ll tag along and check things out while you get busy with all that groveling.”

Yue’s smile curved subtly, her eyes shimmering with a glint of amusement as she glanced at the squabbling pair. “Well, I don’t see why not,” she said lightly, her tone almost playful. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to finally get a look at the other dorms. I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces about Heartslabyul and the rest. It’ll be far more interesting to see them firsthand.”

Ace let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically flinging his hands into the air. “Oh, come on! When did this turn into some kind of sightseeing tour?!”

Deuce laughed under his breath, giving Ace a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Hey, at least you won’t be going alone. Think of it as moral support. And who knows?” he added, sounding genuinely hopeful. “Maybe Housewarden Riddle’s cooled off by now. He might be in a better mood this morning.”

Ace shot him a look of pure skepticism, arms crossing tightly over his chest. “Yeah, right. He’s probably still losing his mind over that stupid tart,” he muttered darkly.

Yue tilted her head ever so slightly, her smile deepening into something more mischievous. “Well,” she mused, her voice carrying a teasing lilt, “if you’re really lucky, maybe he’ll settle for giving you one of his signature lectures instead of slapping on another collar. Or who knows… maybe he’ll assign you to clean the entire dorm from top to bottom as punishment.”

Ace shot her an exasperated glare, clearly unimpressed. “You’re really not helping, Yuu.”

Yue gave an innocent shrug, her voice airy. “I’m just being realistic. It could be worse, you know. At least Riddle didn’t ban you from the dorm entirely.”

Before Ace could come up with a retort, Grim hopped deftly onto Yue’s shoulder, his grin sharp and smug. “Yeah, Ace! Count yourself lucky. Could be worse, you could be sleepin’ out in the woods like some mangy stray, scroungin’ for scraps.”

Ace groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face as if physically weighed down by the company he kept. “Seriously, why do I even hang out with you people?”

Deuce laughed, his grin wide as he gave Ace a solid clap on the back. “Because deep down, you know we’re the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Yue smiled quietly, falling into step beside them as their banter echoed down the path. Watching Ace gripe, Deuce play peacemaker, and Grim stir the pot, she couldn’t help but feel a certain warmth settle in her chest. Their constant teasing might have been relentless, but beneath it ran an unspoken loyalty that held them together. It was these simple, chaotic moments that reminded her just how fond she’d grown of her unusual companions, handfuls though they may be.

“You know,” Yue drawled, her tone light but unmistakably teasing, “if you two keep this up, you’re going to give the ghosts a real spectacle. I can already picture it now ‘Heartslabyul Student Snaps Over Cat’s Taunts!’ Front-page headline, ghost staff gossiping, the whole school whispering before lunchtime.”

Ace groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face in sheer agony. “I swear, I hate all of you,” he muttered, though the flush on his cheeks gave away the fact that he didn’t mean it nearly as much as he claimed.

Deuce laughed, unable to hold back his grin as he slung an arm casually over Ace’s shoulder. “Come on, Ace. Let’s just get this over with. The sooner you apologize, the sooner we can all move on with our day, and the sooner you can stop worrying about what kind of punishment Housewarden Riddle’s cooking up.”

Grumbling under his breath, Ace allowed himself to be herded along, Grim still snickering as he perched proudly on Yue’s shoulder. The morning sun filtered softly through the trees as they made their way toward the grand archway leading to the Hall of Mirrors. The cobblestone path beneath their feet gradually gave way to the cool, polished floors of the ornate hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing faintly in the cavernous space.

Tall, gleaming mirrors lined both sides of the hall, each one shimmering faintly with magic, their glass surfaces rippling like disturbed water. Students passed by them, vanishing into various mirrors that transported them to their respective dorms.

Without hesitation, Yue led the group toward the mirror marked with the emblem of a red heart and a crown, the entrance to Heartslabyul. She paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder at the boys with a knowing smile.

“Ready for your grand performance, Ace?” she quipped.

Ace shot her a look that was equal parts dread and defiance, but before he could reply, the swirling surface of the Heartslabyul mirror shimmered invitingly, and the group stepped through together.

As Yue stepped through the shimmering surface of the mirror, she was immediately struck by the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before her. Gone were the polished floors and towering purple walls of the Hall of Mirrors, replaced now by a landscape so vivid, it felt as though she’d been transported straight into the pages of a storybook.

Her eyes widened, drawn to the sprawling, meticulously manicured hedges that wove an intricate maze across the grounds. Each hedge was trimmed with surgical precision, the deep green leaves glistening faintly in the sunlight. Roses of every shade, crimson, blush pink, and even the occasional rare white bloom, cascaded in neat arrangements, their sweet fragrance wafting gently on the cool, fresh breeze. Everything felt deliberate, ordered, yet brimming with life.

Behind her, the mirror they’d just passed through pulsed softly, the steel-wrought crest shaped like a blooming rose glowing momentarily before settling back into stillness. The subtle shimmer vanished, leaving no trace of the portal, as though it had always belonged seamlessly within this world.

“Oh… wow…” Yue breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, eyes drinking in every detail. There was something surreal about it all, the vibrant colors, the floral scent hanging in the air, the open expanse that seemed to stretch endlessly beneath the clear sky. It was an entirely different realm from the stone corridors she’d grown accustomed to, and she found herself momentarily enchanted.

“Welcome to Heartslabyul Dorm, Yuu!” Deuce called out enthusiastically, his face bright with pride as he watched her reaction. There was an almost boyish excitement in his tone, as if seeing the place anew through her eyes.

“Amazing!” Grim chimed in, practically vibrating with energy atop Yue’s shoulder. His tail flicked back and forth, eyes wide as saucers. “This place is like something out of a fairy tale!”

The crisp scent of greenery filled Yue’s lungs, rich and invigorating, mingling seamlessly with the soft, sweet aroma of blooming roses. She inhaled deeply, savoring the freshness that lingered in the air, so clean and fragrant it seemed to wash away every trace of fatigue. It was a distinct, almost intoxicating contrast to the salty breeze that constantly rolled in from the ocean surrounding Ramshackle Dorm. Here, it felt like stepping into a different world entirely, one crafted with painstaking care and precision.

Her gaze drifted ahead, drawn to the sight of Heartslabyul Dorm rising majestically at the far end of a broad, brick-paved pathway. The structure itself resembled a castle out of a fairytale, with tall spires and ornate archways, its red and black accents standing boldly against the backdrop of manicured lawns and glowing lamplight. Flanking the path were rows of lush rosebushes, their petals catching the sunlight like droplets of ruby and blush-colored silk, and the air was thick with their delicate perfume.

The courtyard sprawled wide before them, an expanse of pristine orderliness that stretched into an elaborate maze of hedges. The famous Rose Maze unfurled in elegant patterns on either side, its twisting paths and sharp angles carved with remarkable precision. Every hedge stood perfectly trimmed, not a leaf out of place, each corner of the garden seemingly maintained to an exacting standard.

Ace, noticing Yue’s awe-struck expression as her eyes followed the sprawling labyrinth, smirked slightly and gestured toward it. “That’s the Rose Maze,” he said, shading his eyes against the sunlight to glance at it himself. “It’s kinda the pride of Heartslabyul. Not bad, right?”

Yue gave a slow nod, her eyes tracing the symmetrical curves and sharp lines of the maze as though committing them to memory. “Indeed,” she murmured softly, her voice touched with genuine admiration. “The gardener must have worked incredibly hard on it. It’s beautiful.”

As Yue admired the picturesque scene before her, an odd sense of déjà vu began to creep into her thoughts. There was something about the stately architecture, the vibrant roses, and the winding hedges of the maze that felt eerily familiar, as though she had glimpsed it all in a half-remembered dream or long-forgotten book. Her brow knit faintly as she tried to pinpoint the source of this familiarity. Where have I seen something like this before? The question hovered at the edge of her mind, elusive and persistent. But no matter how deeply she searched her memory, the answer danced just out of reach. After a moment, she sighed quietly and shook off the feeling, deciding instead to focus on the present.

Deuce, catching her gaze as it lingered on the castle-like dorm, grinned and gestured toward it proudly. “Heartslabyul is actually modeled after the Queen of Hearts’ castle you know, from that famous old story,” he explained, a note of enthusiasm coloring his voice. “Everything here follows her sense of strict order and elegance. Even the rules we live by are based on her ideals.”

Ace let out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back with exaggerated frustration. “Yeah, and don’t get me started on how many rules there are,” he complained, crossing his arms. “Living here is like being stuck at some endless tea party, where one wrong step gets you chewed out or worse.”

Yue laughed softly at his grumbling, her eyes glinting with amusement. “It sounds like quite the experience. I can’t wait to see more.”

As they strolled deeper into the courtyard, Yue found herself captivated by the sheer precision and artistry woven into every corner of Heartslabyul. The rosebushes weren’t just planted, they were meticulously shaped into flawless heart patterns, their vivid blossoms bursting with reds and pinks that contrasted beautifully against the lush greenery. The pathways beneath their feet were paved in careful designs, an intricate dance of brick and stone that subtly guided the eye toward the imposing yet elegant entrance of the dormitory. Even the street lamps, with their wrought-iron frames, carried delicate rose motifs curling around the glass, casting a gentle glow that seemed to breathe life into the surroundings.

“This place is absolutely stunning,” Yue murmured, her voice tinged with wonder. “It’s like walking straight into a storybook.”

Deuce straightened a little, clearly pleased by her reaction. “I’m really glad you think so! Heartslabyul is one of the most prestigious dorms here at Night Raven College. Everything’s designed to reflect a sense of pride and tradition, it’s an honor just to be part of it.”

Ace, trailing a step behind them, didn’t share the same enthusiasm. He gave a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he tugged at the heart-shaped collar fastened snugly around his neck. “Yeah, yeah, real fancy… until you break one of the hundred ridiculous rules. Then it’s all ‘Off With Your Head!’ and you’re left wearing one of these as a reminder.” His tone was dry, his scowl deepening as he jabbed a thumb at the offending accessory.

Grim let out a mischievous snicker, leaping gracefully from Yue’s shoulder to prowl curiously around a nearby rosebush. He flicked his tail as he eyed the vibrant petals, casting a glance back at Ace. “Serves you right for snatching that tart,” he teased, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before helping yourself to the Housewarden’s stash.”

Ace shot Grim a sharp look, but any retort died on his lips. As much as he hated to admit it, the little creature had a point. Yue watched the exchange quietly, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips, though her mind remained partially elsewhere. No matter how much she tried to shake it, that lingering sense of familiarity tugged insistently at her thoughts. Her eyes wandered back to the sprawling maze, tracing the twists and turns of its hedges, searching for the elusive memory it seemed to echo.

What is it about this place that feels so familiar? she wondered, her brow furrowing slightly.

Yet as the conversation between her companions picked up again, Grim’s smug quips, Ace’s groaning protests, and Deuce’s attempts to keep the peace. Yue exhaled softly and chose to let the thought slip away, deciding instead to stay grounded in the present moment.

Yue gazed at the Rose Maze once again, her eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the hedges. “It must be fun to get lost in the Rose Maze,” she remarked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Ace shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t know. We haven’t had the chance to explore it yet. The upperclassmen said we either have to know the basics of flying a broom or have one of them accompany us.”

Deuce nodded, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “And the freshmen don’t take the accompanied offer because we know our upperclassmen will take advantage of us. They’d probably make us do their chores or something in exchange for guiding us through the maze.”

Grim, perched on Yue’s shoulder, flicked his tail. “Sounds rough, nya. I guess it would make sense to master the basics of flying a broom. If you get lost in the maze, you can just fly over it.”

Yue chuckled, her fingers brushing against the thick green leaves of the rosebushes lining the path. “True, but I think getting lost might be part of the fun. These rosebushes are really well taken care of, though,” she added, her voice filled with admiration. “You get to see all this greenery all the time, right? It’s got to be good for your health.”

Deuce smiled, clearly proud of his dorm’s surroundings. “Yeah, it’s one of the perks of being in Heartslabyul. The gardens are always in perfect condition, and the roses bloom year-round. It’s like living in a fairy tale.”

Ace, however, wasn’t as impressed. “Yeah, a fairy tale with way too many rules. Do you know how many times I’ve been scolded for stepping on the grass? Or for not wearing the right shade of red? It’s exhausting.”

Yue raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Sounds like you’re not cut out for the ‘Queen of Hearts’ lifestyle, Ace. Maybe you should’ve picked a different dorm.”

Ace groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t pick Heartslabyul! The Mirror chose it for me. Trust me, if I had a say, I’d be anywhere but here.”

Deuce rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “You say that, but you’d miss the roses and the tea parties. Admit it, Ace. You secretly love it here.”

“In your dreams, Deuce,” Ace shot back, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile.

As they continued down the path, Yue couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the surroundings. The rosebushes were meticulously trimmed, their vibrant blooms adding splashes of color to the lush greenery. The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses, and the soft chirping of birds added to the serene atmosphere. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of Ramshackle Dorm, and Yue found herself enjoying the change of pace.

“So,” Yue began, her tone light and curious, “what’s it like living here? Aside from the rules, I mean.”

Deuce’s eyes lit up, eager to share. “It’s actually really nice. The dorm is always lively, and there’s always something going on. Tea parties, croquet matches, even the occasional unbirthday celebration. It’s like being part of a big, eccentric family.”

Ace snorted. “Eccentric is one way to put it. More like a big, chaotic family with way too many rules and a Housewarden who’s always watching.”

Yue chuckled, her gaze drifting to the dormitory ahead. The castle-like structure was even more impressive up close, its towering spires and intricate stonework a testament to the craftsmanship that had gone into its design. The grand entrance was flanked by two massive rosebushes, their blooms forming a natural archway.

“It’s beautiful,” Yue said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can see why people would want to live here.”

Grim, who had been quietly observing the scenery, suddenly perked up. “Hey, do you think they have food here? Like, fancy tea party food? I could go for some scones right about now.”

Ace smirked, ruffling Grim’s fur. “Of course that’s what you’re thinking about. But yeah, the food here is pretty good. Trey, he’s one of our upperclassmen, makes the best pastries. You should try his tarts sometime.”

Yue’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind. But maybe I’ll wait until after Ace apologizes to the Housewarden. Don’t want to risk getting collared over a tart.”

Ace groaned, his shoulders slumping. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up? It was one tart!”

Deuce laughed, clapping Ace on the back. “Because it’s hilarious. And because you brought it on yourself.”

Yue stood at the edge of the estate grounds, her sharp gaze sweeping over the imposing structure before her. The main castle loomed high, its deep red bricks seeming to bleed into the grayish sky. Pale stone traced the corners and arches, outlining every window and spire like a careful signature. The sharp, steep roofs, dark slate and immaculately maintained, cut through the air like blades. It was clear this place wasn’t built solely for beauty, though it certainly flaunted it. Every detail was designed to remind visitors where power lay.

Her eyes drifted to the clock tower above the grand entrance, its face frozen in time. Yue tapped her gloved fingers against her arm, silently counting. The castle’s façade was deliberate in its symmetry, arched windows lined up in perfect rows, the wide fountain courtyard polished to a mirror-like shine. It all spoke of authority, control, and the kind of order that could suffocate you if you weren’t careful.

Beyond the castle proper, she caught sight of the smaller buildings: staff quarters or storage houses, perhaps. They were built of the same red brick but stripped of the ornate touches, functional and obedient, like pawns placed neatly around a king.

But it was the hedge maze sprawling beyond the walls that made Yue narrow her eyes. Twisting paths, overgrown with ivy and punctuated by half-crumbled arches, hinted at a wildness carefully disguised beneath cultivated greenery. It was a place where secrets lingered, if one knew where to look.

Yue folded her arms, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. Yes, this estate was a statement. A fortress masquerading as a mansion. Beautiful, dangerous, and entirely too perfect. Much like the people who lived inside it.

Her lips curved into a polite smile, the kind she wore like a well-tailored glove. Her eyes widened just enough to feign awe as she gave a small nod, Grim’s tail flicking eagerly at her neck.

“This place reminds me of the eccentric Eastern Duke of my world,” she thought blandly, watching as Grim practically bounced beside her. The castle’s towering spires, the pristine brickwork, the sheer unnecessary opulence, yes, it was very much the same breed of nobles who seemed to compensate for something.

Grim’s voice chirped beside her. “You guys get to live here? This looks straight out of a movie! It’s beautiful!”

Yue kept smiling, even as internally, her expression couldn’t have been flatter if she tried. A movie set, he said. No, it looked like the kind of place where family portraits watched you sleep, where corridors echoed too long and too empty, hiding whispers in every shadow.

“It looks real rich compared to Ramshackle,” Grim added, puffing out his chest. “Completely the opposite of where we live.”

Her smile twitched. “Mm, yes, very grand,” she replied aloud, her voice smooth and polite.

Inside, she sighed heavily. All these immaculate bricks, imported tiles, and still I bet they’ve got skeletons in the basement. Probably.

She glanced at the hedge maze coiling near the castle’s flank, half-expecting to see something peering back. Grim tugged at her sleeve, still marveling.

Yue maintained her polite, fascinated expression like clockwork while internally she deadpanned, Nobles really do have a universal language: excess and secrets. Hopefully not, because that would be concerning, given this is a college dorm.

Deuce, standing beside her, recounted his first impression of the place. “I was also in amazement when I first arrived here. This place is enormous. Bigger than my home, for sure.”

Yue smartly didn’t reply to his comment, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She was quite used to mansions and castles that sprawled across acres of land. Having rich senior disciples and her shisho’s reputation, she had often found herself in and out of the Emperor’s palace. Compared to that, Heartslabyul was impressive but not overwhelming.

A cheerful voice rang out across the courtyard, brimming with energy. “Aww yeah, I am getting my paint on!”

Yue turned just in time to see a tall student jog out from the garden, moving with urgency as he passed by their group. His chin-length, bright orange hair bounced with each hurried step, catching the light as he reached down to snatch a paintbrush from the ground. The bristles were soaked in a puddle of red paint, the color vivid against the cobblestone path.

“If I leave one half-painted, my head’s gonna fly,” he muttered, barely sparing them a glance as he rushed toward the nearest rosebush. His frantic energy made it clear, he was on a mission.

Grim’s ears perked up with curiosity. “Hey, someone’s here!” he yelped before leaping from Yue’s shoulder and scampering after the orange-haired student, his tail flicking eagerly.

Yue hesitated, her gaze sweeping across the vibrant landscape once more. The neatly trimmed hedges, the lush roses in various shades of red and pink, the faint but unmistakable scent of paint hanging in the air, it all felt oddly familiar. A strange sense of déjà vu prickled at the back of her mind, but the memory refused to surface, remaining just out of reach.

Shaking off the feeling for now, she turned to Ace with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Is he some relative of yours?” she asked, tilting her head playfully.

Ace looked positively offended by the suggestion. His hand flew to his chest in exaggerated disbelief. “Hey! Just because someone has the same hair color as me doesn’t mean we’re related,” he shot back. “His hair is way more orange than mine. Mine’s brown! And for the record, my brother looks nothing like that guy.”

Grim trotted back toward Yue with the orange-haired student following behind, his expression curious but friendly. There was an effortless charm to his demeanor, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he regarded them with interest. A small red diamond was painted neatly on his right cheekbone, adding a playful touch to his otherwise casual appearance.

“Did you guys need me for something?” he asked, flashing an easy smile.

Before anyone could respond, his gaze flickered between them, and something seemed to click. His expression brightened in recognition. “Oh! Wait a second… Are you guys-?”

Ace, however, had other things on his mind. He folded his arms and raised a skeptical brow, eyeing the dripping paintbrush in the student’s hand. “Forget that, what are you even doing? And why is there paint everywhere?”

The orange-haired student grinned, twirling the brush between his fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Are you blind? I’m painting the roses red, duh.”

As he spoke, a glimmer of sunlight caught the pin holding his bangs in place, making it sparkle against his ear.

Deuce frowned, clearly perplexed. “What? Why would you need to do that?”

The student let out a lighthearted laugh, shaking his head. “Ah ha ha. So naïve, you put the ‘n’ in the newbie.” Then, as if something suddenly clicked, his expression shifted, and he pointed his paintbrush at them with a knowing smirk. “Hold up. I do know you guys! You’re the troublemakers who smashed that billion-thaumarks chandelier and almost got expelled, right?”

His grin widened as he leaned in slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then, as if remembering something else, he corrected himself. “Wait, wait- wasn’t it a hundred-million Thaumarks chandelier? Either way, how in the world did you guys manage to dodge getting kicked out?”

Ace sighed, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “No one’s ever gonna let that go, huh?”

Deuce groaned beside him, his shoulders slumping. “Great. What a way to be remembered.”

The orange-haired student’s grin only widened, his gaze gleaming with amusement. He turned his attention to Ace, pointing a finger at him like he’d just uncovered a juicy secret. “And you! You’re the guy who stole the Housewarden’s tart that same night, aren’t you? Man, you guys are legendary! You’ve been the hottest topic on campus for days!”

Ace scowled, opening his mouth to protest, but the student was already pulling out his phone, holding it up at arm’s length. “I have to get in on this fleeting fame. C’mon, let’s take a selfie! It’s cool if I post this on Magicam, right?” He angled the phone just so, then paused expectantly. “Gimme your names so I can tag you.”

Ace groaned even louder this time, flinging his hands into the air. “Great. Just what I needed, more attention!”

Yue chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she watched the lively exchange unfold. The orange-haired student’s boundless energy was undeniably infectious, his casual charm effortlessly drawing people in. Yet, as she studied him, something about his dazzlingly bright smile gave her pause.

It was too smooth, too practiced, like the kind of grin someone perfected in the mirror before stepping onto a stage. It wasn’t fake exactly, but it felt carefully crafted, as though he were playing a role rather than simply being himself.

She filed the thought away for later, deciding it might be wise to keep an eye on him.

Yue’s gaze drifted to the freshly painted roses, their deep crimson hue stark against the lush green leaves. The scent of paint still lingered in the air, blending oddly with the natural fragrance of the flowers. She tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“So,” she began, her tone light but inquisitive, “why exactly are you painting the roses red? Isn’t that a bit… excessive?”

The orange-haired student turned to her, his ever-present grin unwavering. “It’s all part of the rules here. Queen of Hearts’ Rule 4, all white roses must be painted red. It’s tradition!” He spun his paintbrush between his fingers with an effortless ease. “Plus, it keeps things interesting.”

Deuce raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “That sounds like a lot of work. Don’t the roses just… grow red naturally?”

The student let out a chuckle, shrugging one shoulder as he flicked a stray drop of paint off his sleeve. “You’d think so, but nope. Gotta keep up appearances, you know? Wouldn’t want the Housewarden thinking we’re slacking off.”

Yue’s lips twitched slightly, amusement tugging at the corners, but her sharp gaze never left him. There was something almost too practiced about the way he spoke—like he had answered this question a hundred times before.

“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” she mused, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

The student let out a carefree laugh, waving his paintbrush through the air in a dismissive flourish. “Nah, it’s not so bad once you get used to it. Besides, it’s kinda fun. You should give it a shot sometime!”

Grim, who had been silently observing the exchange, suddenly perked up. His ears twitched with excitement as he stepped closer. “Hey! You think they’d let me paint a rose? I bet I’d be amazing at it!”

The orange-haired student’s grin widened, and without hesitation, he flipped the paintbrush in his hand before holding it out. “Be my guest! Just don’t get any paint on the leaves. The Housewarden’s got a sharp eye for that kinda thing.”

Grim snatched the brush eagerly, puffing out his chest. “Ha! Watch and learn, minions!” He turned to the nearest rosebush, determination gleaming in his bright blue eyes.

Yue watched the scene unfold, a quiet sense of amusement settling in her chest. The student’s easygoing attitude was a stark contrast to the rigid, rule-heavy atmosphere of Heartslabyul. While most students seemed weighed down by the countless regulations, he appeared to take everything in stride, as if none of it truly fazed him.

Yet, despite his charm, Yue couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something calculated about him. His cheerfulness felt effortless, too effortless. His grin was a little too polished, his mannerisms a little too practiced. It was as if he was playing a role rather than revealing his true self.

She made a mental note to tread carefully around him.

“By the way,” Yue said, keeping her tone light and casual, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Yue, and this is Grim.”

Cater’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he extended a paint-splattered hand toward Yue, his grin as bright as the sunlight filtering through the rose-covered hedges. “Nice to meet ya! I’m Cater Diamond, Heartslabyul’s resident Magicam star and a proud third-year from Class B.” He winked playfully. “You’re the rumored magicless Directing Student, right?”

Before Yue could respond, his grin stretched even wider. “Just call me Cater-kun or Cay-kun if you’re feeling chill. No need for formalities with me! Oh, and you’re living in Ramshackle Dorm, aren’t you? I gotta say, props to you for putting up with a place like that~” He shuddered dramatically, as if just the thought of it sent chills down his spine. “It’s so dark and creepy, like something’s gonna jump out at any second. Spooky! I’d lose my mind there, for real.”

Grim, perched on Yue’s shoulder, flicked his tail with a huff. “Hmph! This guy’s got some nerve. That’s our dorm he’s trash-talkin’!”

Yue shook Cater’s hand, keeping her smile polite but measured. There was an effortless charm to him, one that made him seem friendly and approachable, yet something about his practiced ease put her on guard. “Nice to meet you, Cater-senpai,” she replied smoothly. “And thanks for the… unique introduction to Heartslabyul.”

Cater simply laughed, completely unfazed. “Anytime! You guys are definitely shaking things up around here. Stick with me, and I’ll show you the ropes, maybe even how to survive the Housewarden’s legendary temper tantrums.”

Ace, who had been leaning lazily against a nearby hedge, let out a sigh before finally chiming in. “Since we’re all doing introductions now, I guess I’ll go next.” He jerked a thumb toward himself. “Ace Trappola. And yeah, yeah, I’m that guy, the one who ate the Housewarden’s tart. No need to remind me; I’ve already heard enough lectures to last a lifetime.” He rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk playing at his lips.

Deuce stepped forward with a far more composed demeanor, offering a small nod. “I’m Deuce Spade. It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Cater.” His tone was polite, if not a little stiff, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle the upperclassman’s overwhelming energy.

Cater’s grin stretched even wider as he glanced between the two of them, clear amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ace and Deuce, huh? Those names sound like they were made to be a set. What a lucky draw.” Then, shifting his gaze to Yue and Grim, he chuckled. “And you two, Yue and Grim, you make an interesting team yourselves. With a group like this, I just know campus life is about to get way more entertaining.”

Before anyone could respond, Cater suddenly pulled out his smartphone, the case glittering with faux diamonds that reflected the light in dazzling flashes. “Oh, wait, this is perfect. Can I upload this to Magicam?” He waved the phone at them, the screen already open as if he had anticipated the moment.

Yue’s eyes followed the movement, momentarily caught by the sheer flashiness of the device. It was extravagant, excessive, just like Cater himself. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his carefully curated persona.

“Magicam?” Yue echoed, tilting her head slightly. The unfamiliar name piqued her curiosity, and she made a mental note to ask Ace and Deuce about it later. The technology in this world fascinated her, she wondered how it compared to the communication devices of her own world. More importantly, she couldn’t wait to tell Komui about it when she returned. The eccentric scientist would undoubtedly be thrilled to get his hands on something like this and try to replicate it.

Before she could dwell on the thought any further, Cater clapped his hands together with a satisfied grin. “And… upload complete!” he announced with a flourish, slipping his phone back into his pocket as if it had never been there at all. Then, with an almost theatrical pivot, he turned back to them, his leaf-green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Anyway! What brings you guys to ’Labyul so early in the morning? Planning mischief?” He shot them a playful wink, as if he fully expected them to say yes.

Yue parted her lips to answer, but before she could get a word out, Grim, his enthusiasm matching Cater’s energy, puffed out his chest and jumped in first. “So, you’re the guy over th—”

“So!” Ace abruptly cut in, throwing an arm around Grim and giving him a quick, none-too-gentle shake. He knew exactly where this was going, and there was no way he was about to let Yue tease him again. Steering the conversation away before she could get a chance, he cleared his throat. “Why are you painting the roses, Cater-senpai? What’s the deal with that?”

Cater’s grin never faltered as he gave his pen a casual twirl. With a flick of magic, the paintbrush reappeared in his hand, as if it had never left. “Me? Oh, it’s simple,” he said breezily. “There’s a party coming up the day after tomorrow, and all these roses need to be painted red before then. No time to waste!” His voice remained lighthearted, but Yue caught the faintest hint of urgency beneath his usual easygoing tone.

“A party?” Yue echoed, exchanging a glance with Ace and Deuce. Something about the idea felt oddly out of place, what kind of event required them to go this far just for decorations?

Ace folded his arms, looking just as unconvinced. “What does a party have to do with painting roses?” he asked, skepticism clear in his tone. “Isn’t that a little… excessive?”

Cater let out an amused chuckle, twirling his paintbrush between his fingers. “Well, red roses are way more photogenic, don’t you think?” His smile was as smooth as ever, but the answer felt a little too convenient, like he was skirting around something. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he tossed his free hand in the air. “And after this, I still have to prep for the big croquet tournament. That means dyeing all the flamingos, too.”

Yue blinked. “…Dyeing the flamingos?”

Grim’s fur bristled as he shot Cater an incredulous look. “That’s gotta be the weirdest job I’ve ever heard of!”

Yue’s gaze sharpened as she observed Cater carefully. His words made sense on the surface, but there was something about his tone, too smooth, too rehearsed, that set off quiet alarms in her mind. His bright, carefree smile never wavered, but it almost felt like a mask, carefully crafted to keep people from looking too closely.

Still, she wasn’t about to call him out just yet. Instead, she decided to play along, her expression remaining neutral. “You say you’re in a rush,” she remarked, tilting her head slightly, “but painting each rose one by one seems like it would take forever. Wouldn’t there be a faster way to do it?”

Cater let out a lighthearted chuckle, twirling his paintbrush between his fingers before waving his Pen dismissively. “What are you talking about? I am using magic, duh!” he said, as if the answer was obvious. “Gotta be careful, though. If I use too much, the petals might wilt, and then boom, all that effort down the drain.” He tapped his temple with a knowing smirk. “It’s all about precision. You gotta know the right amount to use. But don’t worry, I’ve got this under control.”

Yue studied him for a moment longer, but his performance was flawless, practiced, even. If there was something more to this, he wasn’t about to let it slip so easily.

“I guess that makes sense,” she replied evenly, nodding along with his explanation.

“Oh, I totally shouldn’t be standing around chatting!” Cater suddenly exclaimed, snapping his fingers as if only just remembering the urgency of his task. His gaze flicked to the half-painted roses, and he let out a theatrical sigh. “The party’s the day after tomorrow, and if I fall behind, it’s off with my head!” He clapped his hands together, turning back to the group with a playful glint in his eyes. “Hey, hey, freshies~ How about helping a poor upperclassman out? You guys wouldn’t abandon me in my time of need, would you?”

Deuce, who had been quietly piecing things together, suddenly perked up. “Wait a second… The tarts that Ace ate, those were for the Prefect’s birthday party, weren’t they?” His brows furrowed as the realization struck. “No wonder the Housewarden was so mad…”

Cater blinked before bursting into laughter, shaking his head. “What? No, no, that’s not it at all,” he said, waving off the assumption.

Ace, who had been following the conversation with increasing confusion, frowned. “Huh? It’s not? Then whose birthday is it?”

Cater’s grin widened, and with a dramatic flourish, he announced, “It’s no one’s birthday!” He let the words hang for a moment, enjoying the confusion on their faces before continuing with an exaggeratedly casual shrug. “The day after tomorrow is Heartslabyul’s legendary Unbirthday Party. It’s a tea party our Housewarden decided to throw just because he felt like it.” He twirled his paintbrush between his fingers, as if this explanation was the most normal thing in the world. “See, he picked a day that doesn’t fall on anyone’s birthday, hence, an unbirthday! Fun, right?”

Ace stared at Cater, completely dumbfounded. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

Cater, entirely unfazed by Ace’s outburst, simply clapped his hands together with an even wider grin. “Anyway, who cares about the reason? A party’s a party, right? And speaking of which, I’m way behind schedule! So, how about it, my adorable dorm-mates?” He shot them a pleading look, his voice taking on a sing-song lilt. “Deuce-chan and Grim-chan can work their magic, while poor Ace-chan and Yuu-chan get the honor of using brushes!”

Before Yue could so much as blink, Cater cheerfully thrust a paintbrush into her hand. “You guys showed up at just the right time. I really appreciate the help!”

Yue stared down at the brush, then back at Cater’s ever-sunny expression. She still wasn’t entirely convinced by his explanation, but there was no denying the sheer force of his enthusiasm, or the fact that they had already been drafted into his bizarre mission, whether they liked it or not. Letting out a resigned sigh, she dipped the brush into the red paint and set to work, wondering what kind of absurdity this so-called Unbirthday Party would bring.

The group stood before the sprawling hedge maze, each taking to the task in their own way. Deuce fidgeted with his magic pen, his grip tightening as he hesitated. "Ch-change the colors with magic, you mean...?" he stammered, his voice betraying his nerves.

Grim puffed out his chest, trying to mask his uncertainty with bravado. “Hah! Not like I’ve ever done anything like this before, yanno!” His tail flicked, betraying his unease.

Cater merely chuckled, twirling his magic pen effortlessly between his fingers. “No worries~! We’ll figure it out. Unless, of course, you’d rather be the one to explain to the Housewarden why his precious roses are still white?” He flashed a knowing grin before lifting his pen with a flourish. “Alright, freshies! Watch and learn!”

With a smooth flick of his wrist, Cater demonstrated the spell, his magic flowing with practiced ease as a row of pristine white roses seamlessly turned a deep, velvety red. The transformation was quick, elegant, and much to Ace and Deuce’s dismay, made the task look deceptively simple.

Yue, meanwhile, dipped her brush into the thick crimson paint and set to work, her strokes slow and deliberate. At the same time, she extended her magic toward another bloom, subtly testing her own ability to replicate Cater’s method. The brush in her hand moved mechanically, her true focus lingering on the invisible energy weaving through her fingertips.

Nearby, Ace let out an exaggerated groan. “Yeah, yeah, red roses only. Can we just hurry this up already?”

Cater, still oblivious to Yue’s dual efforts, continued his lesson with unshaken enthusiasm. “Patience, Ace-chan~! Focus on the color in your mind. Picture the perfect shade of red, and let the magic do the rest!”

Yue’s magic flowed effortlessly, responding to her unspoken intent. Beneath her invisible touch, the white petals deepened into a flawless crimson, an almost imperceptible shimmer marking their transformation. The rose she painted by hand remained ordinary, blending in with the rest, but those she enchanted took on a richness unmatched by the others. She worked methodically, one hand guiding the brush in plain sight, the other weaving unseen magic just beyond notice.

"Ha! Look at that, perfect crimson!" Grim crowed, puffing out his chest as his spell took effect, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I-I think I’m getting it,” Deuce murmured, his tone gradually shifting from uncertainty to confidence as his roses slowly turned red.

Cater clapped his hands together, beaming at their progress. “That’s the spirit! Keep that image in your-”

"Ugh, why am I stuck with a stupid brush?" Ace whined, dramatically flopping against a hedge, his paint-streaked hand dangling over his knee in exaggerated defeat.

Yue remained silent, her gaze flickering between the visible and invisible results of her work. The magically altered roses bore a subtle luminescence, a vibrancy that set them apart, though no one else seemed to notice. As the group continued celebrating their progress, she quietly withdrew her magic, leaving no trace of her silent intervention, except for the few, exceptional blooms that stood out just a little more than the rest.

For now, Yue’s secret remained safe, tucked between brushstrokes and concealed beneath the chaos of her companions' struggles. But the strange behavior of her magic, its unexpected potency, the peculiar radiance of her enchanted rose, lingered in her thoughts, quietly demanding further investigation when she had the time and privacy to do so.

Deuce clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his magic pen as he furrowed his brow in concentration. Red, red… visualize red… With a determined flick of his wrist, he cast his spell, only for the rose before him to shimmer into an unfortunate shade of vivid blue.

"AH! Why is it blue?!" he exclaimed, flustered.

Grim, meanwhile, had an entirely different approach. Waving his paws with theatrical flair, he chanted, "You will change colors~~~! Go!" A burst of flames erupted from his magic, licking at the petals with alarming speed.

“AHHHH!!! I set them on fire!!” he screeched, scrambling backward as the singed roses smoldered.

Cater sighed, though his ever-present grin remained intact. "Wow~ You guys are way worse at this than I thought you'd be."

While the others bickered and fumbled, Yue continued her work in silence, one hand wielding the brush, the other subtly weaving magic. By the time the group finally noticed, she had already completed her entire section. Each rose was an impeccable shade of crimson, uniform and flawless, without a single stray mark.

"Wait, how did you finish so fast?!" Ace gaped, staring at her section in disbelief.

Yue wiped her hands on a cloth and gave him a smug look. "I didn’t waste time complaining."

Ace scowled, crossing his arms. "Tch. No magic, and you still show off."

"Says the one sulking because he can’t use magic right now," she shot back without missing a beat.

Cater let out an impressed whistle, leaning in to inspect her work. "Damn, these are perfect. Ace, I think she paints better than you."

Ace groaned. "Oh, come on-"

Yue smirked, savoring the rare moment of victory as Cater burst into laughter. The others glanced between her perfectly painted roses and their own haphazard attempts, slowly coming to the realization, perhaps a little too late, that while they had been bickering, she had actually been working.

Ace, who had all but given up, lounged lazily against a hedge, twirling his paintbrush between his fingers. "Why can’t the roses just stay white? They look fine the way they are."

Cater, ever the cheerful guide, twirled his magic pen with practiced ease. "Because, Ace-y~ This is all part of tradition!" He gestured grandly toward the half-finished sea of red. "The roses for the Unbirthday Party must be red! Just like the croquet bat has to be a seven-colored flamingo, and the balls? Hedgehogs! Oh, and during the flower concert in spring, the roses should be white again."

Ace blinked. "You’re kidding."

Grim crossed his arms, his tail flicking in irritation. "Nothing but weird rules!"

Cater only shrugged, unfazed. "What can I say? They were all decided by the Queen of Hearts, one of the Great Seven." He grinned knowingly. "And Riddle-kun enforces them very strictly, sometimes too strictly, but hey, rules are rules~"

Ace suddenly straightened, as if remembering something important. “Oh, that’s right. I need to talk to the Dorm Head. Is he still inside?”

Cater tapped a finger to his chin in mock thought. “Hm? Probably~” Then, his expression turned sly, and his grin widened. “Oh, but Acey~ Since Rule #53 states that anything stolen must be replaced, did you bring any tarts to make up for the ones you ate?”

Ace froze, his face paling. “Eh? I—I came straight here, so I got nothing…”

Cater let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Oh, man~ Is that so? That’s a problem.” His voice was light, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess I can’t let you back in, then. If I break the rules, it’s off with my head too, y’know?”

“HUH?! What the heck?!” Ace sputtered, whipping around to the others for help.

“Sorry, but rules are rules~” Cater continued, his tone cheerful yet utterly unyielding. “You’ll have to leave before Riddle-kun notices~”

Ace’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but I am~”

Ace turned to Deuce in desperation. “You guys, do something!”

“Why me?!” Deuce protested, holding up his hands as if Ace’s problem would become contagious if he got too close.

“I’m begging you! I can’t use magic right now!” Ace started, but then his face twisted in sheer horror as he caught sight of something over Cater’s shoulder. “Ah, crap, here he comes!”

Yue, who had been watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement, finally spoke up. “You did bring this on yourself,” she pointed out, crossing her arms as a slow smirk played on her lips.

Ace groaned. “Not helping, Yuu!” Ace’s patience snapped like a frayed wire under too much tension. “Like hell I’m just gonna take this!” he snarled, launching himself forward in reckless fury.

Yue’s eyes widened briefly before she took an instinctive step back, choosing distance over unnecessary involvement. The playful banter of moments ago had shifted into something far more intense, the air thick with Ace’s frustration. But rather than concern, amusement flickered in her gaze. It was almost comical watching him try to take on someone so clearly out of his league.

Cater, ever light on his feet, dodged with effortless grace, as though he had anticipated the outburst before Ace himself had. His usual carefree grin remained, but there was a sharper edge to his expression now, one that hinted at just how much experience lay behind his casual demeanor. “Whoa there, hotshot,” he chided, a teasing lilt to his voice. “You really wanna pick a fight with an upperclassman? That’s bold~”

“Some upperclassman!” Ace spat, swinging again, each strike fueled by frustration rather than strategy. “Dragging us into your mess and then ditching us when things get tough!”

Deuce, ever the voice of reason, stepped in hurriedly. “Ace, think about this! You’re already under the Dorm Head’s punishment, starting a fight isn’t gonna help-”

But Cater was already moving again, his laughter light, but carrying an unmistakable warning beneath it. He weaved effortlessly around Ace’s attacks, twirling his magic pen between his fingers with practiced ease. “Now, now, don’t go twisting my words, Deucey~” he hummed. “I’m just saying… we upperclassmen didn’t survive two years at Night Raven College by being pushovers.”

Ace froze mid-lunge, his scowl deepening as he processed those words. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

And then, just for a moment, the mood shifted. Cater’s grin turned razor-sharp, his emerald eyes glinting with something far more dangerous than his usual playfulness. “It means we have our ways of handling troublemakers,” he purred, voice dripping with unspoken promise. “Whether through persuasion…” He twirled his pen once more before angling it forward, sunlight glinting off its sleek surface.

“Or force.”

“I’m him and he’s them. Split Card!"

The atmosphere crackled with magic as Cater’s signature spell activated, he was able to split himself into clones that each act independently. The divide between an inexperienced first-year and a seasoned upperclassman became painfully clear at that moment.

Yue, wisely choosing not to get caught in the crossfire, simply withdrew further, watching with detached amusement as Ace’s futile efforts met a wall of undeniable skill. Let them handle it themselves. She wasn’t about to get involved.

Yue surveyed the aftermath with quiet amusement, arms crossed as she took in the scene before her. Ace sat sulking, shoulders tense with frustration, while Deuce remained frozen in place, still shell-shocked from their unceremonious expulsion through the travel mirror. The confrontation had ended almost as swiftly as it had begun, though ‘ended’ might not have been the right word. Collapsed was more like it. Neither Ace nor Deuce had landed so much as a finger on Cater before being effortlessly dealt with, and the worst part? Their upperclassman had barely even broken a sweat.

Meanwhile, Grim remained blissfully unaware of the entire affair, curled up and purring atop Yue’s shoulder, undisturbed by the chaos.

For a long moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the garden behind them, as if even the scenery was pausing to let them process their humiliating defeat.

Yue finally broke the silence, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Wow. Who could have possibly predicted that picking a fight with an experienced upperclassman would backfire so spectacularly?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement. "Oh, wait, me."

Ace’s scowl deepened to something truly venomous. “Oh, shut up! Not everyone can be as annoyingly calm as you!” he snapped, kicking at the dirt like a child throwing a tantrum. The irritation rolled off him in waves, only growing stronger as he continued to rant. “That two-faced bastard pretended to be all nice just to trick us into helping him! He totally knew what he was doing!”

His complaints only escalated as realization fully dawned on him. "Of course a third-year would pull something like this, making me do stupid manual labor when he knew I couldn’t even use magic! And those stupid clones!" His voice pitched higher, an indignant whine overtaking his usual cocky bravado. "Since when can people just make copies of themselves?! That’s cheating!”

Yue recalled the moment Cater had cast his spell, the air rippling like water as multiple versions of him materialized in an instant. Each clone sported a different outfit, yet all moved with the same unsettling synchronicity. There had been no time for questions, only action. While Ace and Deuce had instinctively fought back, their flailing resistance earning them particularly rough handling, Yue had taken a far more pragmatic approach.

The moment one of the clones stepped toward her, she had wordlessly raised her hands in surrender, making it clear she had no intention of struggling. It wasn’t cowardice, just common sense. There was no point in wasting energy against an opponent who was already five steps ahead. Cater had noticed that too. His gaze had lingered on her for a fraction longer than necessary, his expression unreadable, though there had been something like approval flickering in his emerald eyes.

As the memory replayed in her mind, Yue hummed thoughtfully. “You know,” she mused, arms loosely crossed, “he could’ve just kicked us out the second he saw us. I’m pretty sure he recognized me before he even spoke.” She tilted her head, tapping a finger against her chin. “And for someone from a rule-obsessed dorm, he was unusually friendly. Suspiciously friendly, even.”

Deuce, who had remained lost in his thoughts until now, finally snapped back to reality. His eyes widened as he turned to Yue, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. “Wait. If you suspected something from the start, why didn’t you warn us?!”

Before she could answer, he pressed on, his brow furrowing. “And what was that magic, anyway? Since when can people just create physical duplicates?!”

Yue responded with a serene, close-eyed smile, the very picture of calm indifference. If anything, her unwavering composure only seemed to aggravate Ace further.

"You didn’t ask," she replied smoothly, as if that was all the justification needed.

Ace visibly bristled, his frustration boiling over. “Oh, come on!” he groaned, throwing his arms up. “What kind of answer is that?!”

Ignoring his outburst, Yue tilted her head, feigning thoughtful consideration. “Perhaps it’s just advanced magic for third-years?” she suggested, though inwardly, she wasn’t convinced. Even in her own world, spells that created fully independent, physical duplicates were incredibly rare. They required vast amounts of mana, not to mention near-flawless control, something few could master. The fact that Cater had done it so effortlessly was… notable.

Ace, however, had long since stopped pondering the implications of Cater’s magic. He let out an exaggerated groan before flopping onto the ground with all the grace of a felled tree. “This is the worst! First the tart, then the stupid collar, and now this?!” He sprawled out on his back, dramatically throwing an arm over his face as if to shield himself from the cruel, indifferent sky. “I swear, I’m getting bullied by the universe itself!”

Yue couldn’t help but smirk at his theatrics. “Maybe stop picking fights you can’t win?” she suggested mildly.

Ace shot up, glaring at her with full offense. “Excuse me?!”

Undeterred, Yue merely arched a brow in amusement. As Ace launched into yet another round of complaints, this time about how completely unfair Night Raven College was, she tuned him out, instead turning over the events in her mind.

Despite herself, she was quietly impressed. Cater had played them perfectly from the very start, weaving a trap with such casual ease that they had walked right into it without a second thought. That kind of strategic thinking… was worth remembering.

Ace was still grumbling about his magic-sealing collar as the group hurried toward the main campus, the morning sun casting long shadows behind them. The towering clock face above them ticked ever closer to the start of classes, an ominous reminder of their dwindling time. Each chime sent another wave of panic through Ace, whose pace only slowed the closer they got to the building.

"This is torture!" he groaned, dragging his feet like a prisoner marching to his execution. He tugged at the collar around his neck, scowling. "How am I supposed to survive Crewel’s class without magic? That man throws potions like grenades and expects results!"

Yue, unimpressed, flicked his forehead without breaking stride. "You don’t need magic to follow instructions and mix ingredients, Ace. Unless you were planning to wing it again?"

Ace spluttered, face flushing. "I- That’s not-!"

Deuce, ever the diligent one, clutched his notebook like a lifeline. "Actually… I could use some help too." His voice softened with something suspiciously close to pleading. "Yuu, you’re good at potion theory. Any chance you could…?"

Yue let out a long-suffering sigh but ultimately nodded. "Fine. Since you asked nicely." She shot a pointed look at Ace. "Unlike some people."

Ace threw his hands up, thoroughly betrayed. "Oh, come on! You’re really gonna tutor him and leave me to suffer?"

"You could have asked instead of whining," Yue replied, her voice deceptively sweet. "But since you’re so concerned, don’t worry, Crewel isn’t that cruel. You’ll survive, assuming you don’t mix another combustion potion into a fire trap."

Grim, still perched on her shoulder, snickered. "Yeah, Ace! Maybe you’ll finally learn something without magic as a crutch!"

"Rule #53," she intoned, each word slow and deliberate, as if explaining basic arithmetic to a particularly dense child. "Stolen items must be replaced." She gestured pointedly at the magic-sealing collar still snug around his neck. "Unless, of course, you'd rather keep that lovely accessory indefinitely?"

Ace clamped a hand over the collar as if just remembering it was there, his expression darkening.

Deuce, who had been deep in thought, suddenly straightened like a bolt of lightning had struck him. "Wait. She's right! The fastest way to get your magic back is to replace the tart!" His confidence, however, wavered almost instantly as the full implications sank in. His face twisted with barely concealed dread. "...Hold on. Does that mean we have to bake one?"

Ace’s complexion drained through several shades of pale before settling on an alarming sickly green. "You can’t be serious," he whispered, his voice hollow. "I burn instant noodles."

"Not we," Yue corrected smoothly, already pivoting in the direction of the cafeteria kitchens. "You. I'll supervise."

Ace gaped at her in open betrayal. "Are you kidding me?!"

Yue’s smirk widened. "Consider it… character development."

From her shoulder, Grim, who had finally roused from his nap, let out a dramatic yawn. "Hhrrgh... Can we just steal the ingredients this time? Rules are dumb."

A sharp flick of Yue’s closed fan met the top of Grim’s head with a crisp thwack that echoed through the courtyard.

"And get into even more trouble?" she deadpanned. "No thanks."

Ace groaned, but before he could fire back, the sharp clang of the bell rang out, signaling the start of class. His complaints died in his throat as the three of them broke into a sprint, racing against time.

Ace was still grumbling about his magic-sealing collar as the group hurried toward the main campus, the morning sun casting long shadows behind them. The towering clock face above them ticked ever closer to the start of classes, an ominous reminder of their dwindling time. Each chime sent another wave of panic through Ace, whose pace only slowed the closer they got to the building.

After class, Yue found herself alone, detained under the sharp eye of Professor Crewel, while her so-called friends scurried off like startled mice, abandoning her to face the storm on her own. She stared down the empty hallway, arms crossed and expression flat. Traitors, the lot of them. Not even a backward glance. Just the echo of retreating footsteps and the soft buzz of cafeteria chatter in the distance.

She sighed, exasperated. Some friends they were, leaving her to face the wolves in a designer suit and leather gloves.

“Pup,” Professor Crewel's crisp voice cut through the silence like a scalpel, dragging her attention back to the present.

He held out a small, elegant bottle, no larger than a thumb, filled with a pearlescent liquid that shimmered faintly in the light. The glass was cool to the touch, the stopper sealed tight.

"A little gift," he said, eyes glinting like garnets beneath his silver lashes. "Scentless perfume."

Yue took the vial carefully, turning it over in her palm. It was beautifully crafted, but her brow furrowed. “Professor... what’s this for?”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, the kind that always made her suspicious. “Beastfolk and merfolk possess far sharper senses than humans. One sniff, and they’ll know exactly what you are.” He raised a brow. “And given how invested you seem in concealing certain... truths, I thought I’d offer you a subtle advantage.”

Her breath caught for a moment. She had been careful, painfully so, but even she had to admit, she’d overlooked something as fundamental as scent. While she weaved words, cloaked intentions, and played the social game with precision, her scent had remained an unguarded vulnerability. One curious creature with a keen enough nose could unravel everything.

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Thank you, Professor. I didn’t realize I needed this... but clearly, I did.”

“Good girl,” Crewel replied with obvious satisfaction, his tone warming for the briefest moment before returning to its usual clipped elegance. “Unlike those ill-mannered strays you associate with, you actually understand the value of quality.”

He adjusted his gloves with a practiced tug, his voice slipping into lecture mode. “This formula is undetectable to the average nose. Should someone try to forcefully discern your scent, either through magical enhancement or natural ability, they’ll be met with a rather nasty migraine. Think of it as… olfactory retaliation.”

Yue chuckled softly under her breath. “A fitting punishment.”

“Indeed,” he said, straightening a stack of papers on his desk. “Just remember: it washes off easily. Reapply after bathing, and keep it out of water. If you experience any irritation or strange side effects, report to me at once. We’ll adjust the composition, assuming, of course, you haven’t lied about your allergies.”

“I haven’t,” she promised, tucking the vial into a hidden inner pocket of her uniform coat.

It was such a small thing, barely enough liquid to fill a spoon, but it was another weapon in her arsenal, another shield between her and the truth she couldn’t afford to let slip.

As she finally stepped out into the corridor and made her way toward the cafeteria, she couldn’t help the quiet thoughts swirling at the back of her mind.

Was this gesture of his genuine? A rare moment of kindness from someone who prided himself on being aloof and exacting? Or was it simply another calculated move in the great game of masks and favors that ruled Night Raven College?

She wasn’t sure. But then again, it didn’t matter.

Whatever the reason, she would use it.

By the time Yue arrived at the cafeteria, she spotted her so-called “friends” loitering by the entrance, Grim bouncing on his paws, Ace checking his nails, and Deuce attempting to look innocently uninvolved. Her eyes narrowed. Oh, they were going to act like nothing happened.

“Geez,” Ace groaned dramatically as she approached, “what took Professor Crewel so long with you? I’m starving over here.”

Yue raised a brow, scooping Grim up by the scruff of his cloak like an annoyed older sister. “Says the monster who bolted the second I was told to stay back,” she said dryly, poking his cheek with just enough pressure to make him squirm.

Grim swatted at her hand, puffing out his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, but it’s finally lunch time! And I see tons of yummy stuff already~!”

Yuu, catching up behind her, glanced at the buffet line with a raised brow. “Kinda classy, having a full spread like this in a school. Is it even safe for you to eat squid and onions, Grim?”

Before Grim could answer, he was already racing toward the food trays, tail flicking excitedly. “A fluffy omelet! Grilled chicken! Bacon and egg tart, heaven’s real and it’s right here!”

“Too loud,” Ace muttered, waving a hand in front of Grim’s face. “You’re way too energetic for someone running on fumes all morning.”

Grim ignored him completely, tugging insistently on Yuu’s sleeve. “Hurry up, will ya? There's only one grilled chicken left, go grab it for me! Oh, and the omelets! And bread! And jam! Go, go, go!”

Just then, a sharp yelp cut through the air.

“AH!? Hey, you bastard!” a disgruntled upperclassman snarled, stumbling back. “My pasta’s soft-boiled egg fell on the floor ‘cause you bumped into me!”

Grim froze, chicken in paw, ears flattened. “I-I didn’t mean to-!”

Another student tsked loudly behind the first. “Damn shame. The soft-boiled egg’s the best part of carbonara, you know. Now look at what you did.”

Grim clutched the grilled chicken to his chest, inching back. “It was an accident, honest! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

The first upperclassman sneered. “Guess you’ll make it up to me by giving me that grilled chicken you’re hoarding.”

Grim’s fur bristled. “What!? No way! This is mine!”

“Oh? That how a freshman talks to his senpai?” the second student cracked his knuckles. “That’s pretty damn rude.”

Deuce stepped in, raising both hands in an effort to deescalate. “S-senpai, using magic or intimidation for personal gain is against school regulations…”

“Personal gain?” Student A scoffed. “Nah, this is education, junior. Call it a valuable life lesson.”

Student B smirked, drawing his magic pen. “Grit your teeth, punk-!”

But before he could even flick his wrist, something shifted in the air.

There was a whisper of movement, barely noticeable.

Suddenly, Student B’s magic pen snapped in half, clean and silent. He stared in disbelief as the two broken pieces clattered to the floor.

“Wha—?!”

“Oops,” Yue said smoothly, stepping between Grim and the upperclassmen, her hand still raised as if she'd just brushed hair from her face. “Sorry. I tripped.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly as her gaze settled on the two troublemakers. Calm, but unwavering.

“You alright?” she asked Grim softly, though her eyes never left the seniors.

Grim blinked. “Y-Yeah…”

Ace blinked, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oho. Now that’s timing.”

“You should thank him properly later,” Deuce muttered to Grim under his breath.

Student A backed off slightly, glaring at Yue. “Tch. Freakin’ attitude problem.”

Yue smiled politely. “You’ll live.”

She turned gracefully, slipping her hands into her coat pockets as if nothing had happened. “Now then. I believe we were going to enjoy lunch, weren’t we?”

Grim scrambled after her. “Y-Yeah! Chicken! Gimme that tray over there, Yuu!”

Ace leaned in to Deuce as they followed. “Did he just snap a wand with her fingers?”

Deuce shook his head. “I didn’t even see him move…”

Yue didn’t look back, but the corner of her mouth quirked ever so slightly. The lesson of the day: Don’t mess with her friends. Especially not before lunch.

Ace dropped his tray onto the table with a tired groan, raking a hand through his hair.
“Ughhh, I already ate that killer breakfast you made this morning, Yuu, but all those classes fried my brain. I swear, spell theory alone burned through all my energy reserves.” He slumped forward, cheek resting against the cool table surface. “It’s like mental starvation. I need fuel before I start hallucinating mana formulas in my soup.”

He sat up again and gave her a look that was somewhere between pitiful and dramatic. “let’s just eat already.  I’m this close to passing out.”

Deuce exhaled deeply, shaking his head. “That whole situation… I can’t believe there are such aggressive upperclassmen in a prestigious magic school. What happened to dignity?”

Grim, now comfortably seated and halfway buried in a mountain of food, had already mentally moved on. “Alright! Enough talk! It’s chow time~!” he declared, digging in with abandon. “Mmm! This omelet’s so fluffy, and the cheese. oooh, so melty~!”

Yue watched him with a tired fondness as she unwrapped her sandwich. “Chew before you talk,” she muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Mmph, by the way-” Grim paused between bites, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “I saw your guys’ dorm earlier. What do the other dorms look like?”

Just then, a familiar voice chimed in from behind. “You’ve seen those big statues of the Great Seven by Main Street, yeah?”

The group looked up to see a cheerful upperclassman flashing a peace sign. “This school’s got seven dorms, each one inspired by one of them.”

Ace’s brow twitched. “Ugh! It’s you again! The guy from this morning!”

Grim shot up, pointing an accusatory paw. “You’re the one who made us paint the roses red!”

Cater Diamond put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Oof, ‘made’ is a strong word. I didn’t trick you, okay? I was just following Dorm rules~ It wasn’t like I wanted to do that either.”

Deuce narrowed his eyes. “But… you looked really happy while bossing us around.”

“Aw, there, there, Deucey~” Cater cooed, ruffling Deuce’s hair like a doting older brother. “Rules don’t apply once you’re outside the dorms, so here, I’m just your chill, super gentle upperclassman~”

Deuce’s entire face flushed red. “P-please stop calling me that, senpai!”

“Cater just has a unique way of showing affection,” a calm voice said with a chuckle as another upperclassman approached the table, sliding in beside Ace with the ease of someone used to navigating social circles.

He was tall and fair-skinned, with short, dark green hair swept neatly to the side. His thicker-than-average eyebrows gave his face definition, and a pair of warm hazel eyes peeked through black, full-rimmed glasses. On his left cheek was a small black club symbol, unmistakably tied to Heartslabyul. Everything about him gave the impression of a laid-back, older brother, steady, dependable… maybe too dependable.

“Who?” Ace blinked, stiffening. “Wait… Who’re you?”

“My bad,” the upperclassman replied with a polite nod. “Name’s Trey Clover. I’m a third-year in Heartslabyul, same as Cater.”

He turned his attention to Yue with a warm, easygoing smile. “You’re the new student staying at the old, unused dorm, right? Ramshackle, was it? I heard from Cater. Sorry for the trouble our dormmates gave you yesterday.”

Yue met his gaze, eyes calm but distant. “It wasn’t a problem,” she replied evenly, taking a bite from her sandwich. Then, in a tone as flat as the plate in front of her, she added, “Though some of them could use lessons in manners.”

She didn’t break eye contact, but behind her calm expression, a flicker of instinct stirred. That smile…

It reminded her too much of someone she already knew, a dear friend from back home. A church insider with a fox’s grin and a mind as sharp as razors. Yue trusted him with her life, but even then, she never forgot how dangerous charm could be when used as a mask.

Trey smiles just like him, she thought, brows lowering ever so slightly. Too polished. Too practiced.

She didn’t sense malice, not yet. But her gut told her to keep one hand on her guard and the other close to her magic. Just in case.

“Wha- He’s just casually sitting next to me…” Ace muttered under his breath, half-scooting away from Trey.

Meanwhile, Cater grinned at Yue and leaned in a little too close. “Come on, Yuu-chan~ Since we’re all friends now, give me your number!”

“I don’t have whatever rectangular thing you have with me,” Yue replied coolly, pulling her tray slightly closer like it might shield her from his energy.

“Oooh~ You meant the mobile phone, huh?” Cater teased, clearly not deterred. “That’s okay! Breathe in, breathe out. Relax~ Are you the kind who posts tons of pictures? Come on, share your account~!”

Trey sighed, elbowing Cater lightly. “You’re scaring the newbie. Keep it to a minimum.”

Cater pouted but relented. “Fine, fiiine~ So, dorms! That’s what we were talking about, right? I’ll be your guide! Your dorm tour guru~”

Ace perked up. “Start with ours! I’ve been dying to know what’s up with that weird ‘Rule Number Whatever of the Queen of Hearts’ thing. What’s with all the fuss?”

Trey folded his hands together, a teacher-like tone entering his voice. “You know the legendary Queen of Hearts, right? She enforced absolute law and order in Wonderland. Her rules were… well, strict.”

“Oppressively strict,” Cater added, nodding sagely. “Our dorm’s uniform colors, red and black are a tribute to the Queen’s classic dress. We keep her traditions alive by following a set of her official rules.”

Grim wrinkled his nose. “Sounds like a pain…”

“Yeah, it kinda is,” Cater said, laughing. “But really, how strictly you follow depends on the Dorm Leader. The previous one was pretty relaxed.”

Trey adjusted his glasses. “Riddle, our current Prefect, takes tradition more seriously than anyone. He’s determined to keep every rule intact, no matter how small.”

Ace groaned. “That’s not tradition, that’s a control freak…”

Yue raised her eyes from her tea. “That explains the ridiculous rose-painting thing,” she muttered. “Obsession disguised as order.”

“Still,” Grim said, licking cheese off his paw, “what about the other dorms? Are they just as weird?”

Trey adjusted his glasses with a relaxed air, his voice steady and informative. “As Cater mentioned earlier, this school has seven dorms, each one inspired by a different member of the Great Seven.”

He gestured with casual ease, beginning the list. “First, there’s Heartslabyul, our dorm. It values order, discipline, and fairness, following the strict laws of the Queen of Hearts.”

Ace visibly slouched in his seat at the word “laws,” grumbling something inaudible. Trey only smiled, used to the complaint.

“Next is Savanaclaw, where students value resilience and strength. It draws from the pride and tenacity of the King of Beasts,” Trey continued smoothly. “Then comes Octavinelle, founded on the Sea Witch’s legacy of generosity, negotiation, and cunning.”

Yue remained quiet, her expression unreadable as she took another slow bite of her sandwich. Outwardly composed, her thoughts had already begun drifting to the day of the entrance ceremony.

That day… the moment her name had been called, silence had gripped the hall.

“I cannot see it.”

The Mirror of Darkness had spoken those words with unsettling certainty. Gasps echoed. Whispers followed, rising in waves like a growing storm.

She remembered Crowley’s expression, a mixture of disbelief and poorly concealed panic.

“This child possesses the strictness of Heartslabyul, persistence of Savanaclaw, benevolence of Octavinelle, mindfulness of Scarabia, tenacity of Pomefiore, diligence of Ignihyde, and nobility of Diasomnia…”

Every dorm. Every virtue.

“…Thus, both the color and shape of her soul are… non-existent.”

She had not been rejected… but not accepted either. Not excluded, but not defined. A soul that belonged everywhere and nowhere. It was an answer that said everything and nothing.

“Therefore, this one is not suited to any dormitory.”

And yet, Yue thought, glancing around the table, no one remembers.

Not the staff, not the students. Even Crowley had let the matter drop suspiciously fast, choosing instead to harp on the idea that she simply “lacked magic.”

She allowed him the assumption. Better to be underestimated.

Trey’s voice brought her back to the present. “Scarabia is built on foresight and cleverness, much like the Sorcerer of the Desert. The students there tend to be well-prepared and good at making things happen.”

“Then there’s Pomefiore,” he continued. “They care deeply about self-discipline, beauty, and inner refinement—qualities of the Beautiful Queen.”

Grim let out a dramatic sigh beside her. “All those names are so long! I can’t remember any of that!”

Cater laughed. “That’s totally okay~ You’ll remember them eventually, whether you want to or not!”

Trey chuckled as well. “Ignihyde is grounded in quiet brilliance and persistence, those who study, tinker, and work behind the scenes, just like the King of the Underworld.”

“Lastly, there’s Diasomnia, a dorm steeped in mystery and prestige, honoring the Queen of Thorns. The students there are often powerful… and a little intimidating.”

“There’s a lot, huh?” Yue finally said, her tone casual, though her gaze had sharpened.

Inside, her thoughts whispered: They all suit me, apparently. But none of them claimed me.

Just like the mirror had said.

Trey adjusted his glasses and gestured across the room. “For example… look over there.”

Yue followed his gaze, keeping her face composed. But in her chest, that strange emptiness stirred again, a weightless reminder that she was, once again, the exception in a world that preferred neat categories.

And perhaps, she thought, not being defined… meant she could define herself.

Yue’s gaze flickered across the room, quietly taking in the rainbow of dorm uniforms scattered around the cafeteria. As she followed Grim's curious eyes toward the other students, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of fascination and mild confusion at the vibrant world she’d been thrown into. Compared to the polished yet chaotic atmosphere of Heartslabyul, each dorm seemed to have its own flair, visually and otherwise.

"Seeing some macho guy with dog ears is kinda a new sight," she murmured, keeping her voice low. The student in question was tall, muscular, and exuded raw physicality, something that felt more fitting in a wrestling ring than in a school cafeteria.

Trey followed her gaze and gave a knowing smile. “Judging by that build and his uniform, he’s from Savanaclaw.”

Cater leaned in, nodding enthusiastically. “Totes! That dorm's full of athletes and rough-and-tumble types. You can usually tell by the yellow and black they wear. They're all pretty brawny, total gym bro energy, you know?”

Grim perked up with interest, his eyes darting to another group. “Oh~ Then what about that one with gray and… what’s that? Light purple on their sleeves?”

Trey pointed casually. “That guy’s from Octavinelle. And see the two sitting near him, wearing those dark red and gold uniforms? Scarabia. Both dorms are known for their brains more than brawn.”

Cater chimed in again, tossing in a wink. “Yeah, rumor has it those two dominate when it comes to written exams. Total smarty-pants material. Though, Scarabia’s Prefect’s... kind of hit-or-miss when it comes to studying.”

“Okay, that sounds like a red flag,” Ace muttered, squinting toward the group.

Trey chuckled. “Yuu, you’re picking this stuff up pretty quick. You’ve got a good eye.”

Encouraged, Yue leaned forward with a soft hum, quietly absorbing the information. Her gaze shifted again as Cater gestured toward another corner of the cafeteria.

“And those bright and sparkling ones over there? Pomefiore,” he said, lowering his voice with mock drama. “Purple and red colors, pretty glam-looking, yeah?”

Grim's jaw dropped. “Wha-!! There's a really cute girl over there!”

Deuce nearly choked on his drink. “Eh!? Even though this is an all-boys’ school!?”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Use your brain, dude. You seriously think they’d let a girl pass the dorm sorting in an all-boys’ academy?”

Deuce and Grim whipped their heads back toward the Pomefiore table, where the so-called “girl” sat with perfect posture, delicately sipping tea. He was slight in frame, shorter than most of his peers, with periwinkle waves of hair spilling just past his chin, one side tucked behind a pale ear. His bangs swept softly across his forehead, framing light blue eyes that held an air of quiet mystery. For a moment, his gaze flicked toward them, lips pressed into a neutral line, until one of his dormmates said something under their breath, and the corner of his mouth twitched, revealing a flash of something sharp, almost boyishly defiant.

Yue bit back a laugh. Guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t fit expectations.

Cater, ever the entertainer, waved a hand. “Speaking of girls~ Miss Rosalia’s portrait in the West Building is a stunner. I could introduce you, if you’re into classical beauties~ Want me to set up a little meet and greet?”

Ace’s face twisted in horror. “Hard pass! Even if she’s cute, she’s… y’know. Not really alive.”

Cater winked. “Does it really matter~?”

Yue stifled a snicker behind her hand, but her attention lingered on Pomefiore. The way they carried themselves was refined, elegant, intimidating in a way she hadn’t expected. There was sharpness beneath the beauty, a quiet calculation. A different kind of strength.

“Pomefiore’s filled with students who take their beauty routines very seriously,” Cater added, almost dreamily. “Their Housewarden? He’s a major influencer. Over five million followers on Magicam~”

“Magicam?” Yue tilted her head.

Cater gasped, hand flying to his chest in mock devastation. “You don’t know what Magicam is!? Dude, where have you been?”

“Not from here,” she muttered, scratching her cheek.

Cater gave her a considering look, then grinned. “Well, with that face, you’d fit right in with Pomefiore. You’ve got that whole Onnagata vibe, like those performers from the Far East who play the ideal woman on stage. Super pretty, kinda androgynous.”

Yue’s cheeks warmed, but she kept her expression neutral. Better they assume I’m just a delicate-looking guy than figure out the truth.

Trey, ever the mediator, smoothly redirected. “Anyway, moving on, next is Ignihyde. They wear blue and black, but I don’t see any of them here today.”

Cater waved a hand with his characteristic nonchalance. "Yeah, those Ignihyde guys are super private. I don't even have friends from that dorm." He twirled his Magicam pen between his fingers. "Total introverts. Like, the complete polar opposite of Heartslabyul's energy."

Grim's ears perked up, his blue flames flickering with curiosity. "Meaning, they're gloomy?" he asked, his high-pitched voice carrying that particular innocence only the truly ignorant could muster.

Trey adjusted his glasses with that ever-patient smile. "Hey, now," he chided gently, "let's not be rude. They're actually pretty quiet and polite." His tone took on a note of professional admiration. "Brilliant magic users, though, and amazing with technomancy. Last year's magical engineering fair was practically their solo exhibition."

Deuce tapped his chin in thought, his brow furrowing. "Then there's... Diasomething dorm, right?"

"It's Diasomnia, genius," Ace corrected with his trademark smirk, rolling his eyes so hard it looked painful. "Try not to bite your tongue on the syllables there, Mr. Honor Student."

"I just bit my tongue," Deuce groaned, rubbing his jaw as if reliving the injury.

Cater's laugh rang out like chimes as he gestured toward the far windows. "They're over there, the ones sitting at the exclusive tables near the stained glass." He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "Green and black uniforms that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. You'll know them when you see them."

Yue's eyes followed Cater's indication, and an involuntary shudder traced down her spine. The Diasomnia students sat in perfect formation, their postures regal yet relaxed, surrounded by an almost visible aura of quiet power. The way other students instinctively gave their table a wide berth spoke volumes.

Non human, her instincts whispered. Every single one of them.

"They've got a reputation," Cater murmured, uncharacteristically serious. The playful lilt vanished from his voice. "Let's just say... they're kind of untouchable." His fingers drummed an uneasy rhythm on the table. "Their housewarden especially. He's got this... otherworldly vibe. Super hard to read."

Yue frowned slightly, intrigued despite herself. The sheer variety of dorms and their dynamics was overwhelming, but at least now she had names to match the swirling chaos around her.

Her fork froze halfway to her mouth when the air itself seemed to still. A presence descended, swift as a shadow, silent as falling snow, and sharp as a dagger poised at her throat. Her body reacted before conscious thought could intervene, muscles coiling tight, her hand jerking toward her waist where steel should rest.

But her fingers closed on empty air, grasping only the ghost of a habit she'd buried beneath school uniforms and borrowed identities. She exhaled through her nose, forcing tension from her shoulders before anyone could notice, and turned toward the disturbance.

There stood a boy, no, the word boy felt woefully inadequate for the ancient awareness gleaming in those crimson eyes, who looked far too slight to be an upperclassman. His frame held the energy of a mischievous child, but his presence thrummed with something primordial. Midnight hair cascaded in artful disarray, two rebellious strands curling upward like tiny horns, with vibrant magenta highlights peeking through when the light caught them just right. His lips curled to reveal the barest hint of fangs, his slit-pupiled eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh?" Ace muttered, his eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. "They've got a kid with them?" His voice carried that particular blend of disbelief and amusement that only Ace could master.

Trey adjusted his glasses with one finger, the lenses flashing as he studied the petite figure. "Grade-skipping is allowed here, so it's possible," he mused, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "But he's not a kid. He's a third-year like us. His name is-"

"Lilia is my name. Lilia Vanrouge."

The voice that cut through the air was like liquid moonlight - melodious yet carrying an undercurrent of something far older than its owner's appearance suggested. Ace and Trey recoiled in perfect unison, their twin gasps harmonizing comically.

"Wha—!?" Grim yelped, his fur puffing up until he resembled an electrified pom-pom. "Th-this guy teleported here!" His claws dug into Yue's shoulder as he scrambled for higher ground.

Before them stood what appeared to be a young man frozen in eternal adolescence. Petite enough to make even the shortest first-year feel tall, with a frame that seemed better suited to schoolboy uniforms than the dignified Diasomnia attire he wore. Yet every inch of him radiated a presence that contradicted his stature.

His raven-black hair fell in artful disarray, the angled bangs framing his face like a carefully constructed mask. Magenta streaks wove through the darkness like threads of chaos in an otherwise orderly tapestry. Two rebellious tufts of hair curled upward from his crown, not quite horns, but not entirely innocent either. When he moved, the light caught the subtle points of his ears peeking through the strands.

But it was his eyes that commanded attention. Crimson pools with slit pupils that gleamed with ancient amusement, framed by lashes so long they'd put most girls to shame. His ever-present smile revealed delicate fangs when it widened, which was often.

Not a child, Yue's instincts screamed. Something wearing childhood like a favorite coat.

"Pray tell," Lilia began, his voice dancing between playful and formal with effortless grace, "art thou interested in mine dorm members?" He struck a pose that might have been thoughtful if not for the impish spark in his eyes. "Fufufu. It is true I might resemble a sprightly and endearing young boy." His grin turned razor-sharp. "However, just as that bespectacled gentleman has wisely declared, I am a child no longer."

Trey gave a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sprightly, huh..." The word hung in the air like an unanswered question.

"Prithee," Lilia continued with a courtly flourish that somehow didn't seem ridiculous despite their cafeteria surroundings, "why gaze upon us from afar like distant admirers? Are we not all comrades from the same school?" His smile turned conspiratorial. "Diasomnia shall welcome you, should you ever wish to draw nearer."

Behind him, where his previous table stood, two other figures waited with markedly different energies.

The first was a study in controlled intensity. Tall and straight-backed, his light green hair was slicked back with military precision save for one dramatic lightning-bolt strand that refused to be tamed. His yellow-green eyes, slit-pupiled and sharp, scanned their group with the focus of a hawk tracking prey. Thick eyebrows furrowed in what appeared to be permanent disapproval, his mouth set in a scowl that revealed glimpses of impressive fangs. Every line of his body screamed discipline, from his ramrod-straight posture to his crossed arms that looked ready to block any foolishness before it began.

The second was his polar opposite. A study in stillness, his silver hair catching the light like moonbeams. The soft waves framed a face of eerie calm, his unusual blue-lavender eyes half-lidded as if perpetually on the verge of sleep. A single cowlick curled rebelliously at his crown, the only hint of whimsy in an otherwise serene presence. Where his companion radiated tension, this young man existed like a tranquil pool - undisturbed, observing, but never reacting.

Yue kept her posture deliberately relaxed, one hand resting casually on the table's edge to mask her earlier tension. Her fingers absently traced the wood grain as she studied the retreating trio. These three... she mused, they move differently than the other students, like shadows with substance.

Deuce leaned in close enough that his breath stirred her hair. "Those two in the back look like they'd rather be anywhere else," he whispered, jerking his chin toward the silver- and green-haired figures now melting back into the Diasomnia crowd.

Lilia's chuckle danced through the air like wind chimes, light, musical, and utterly unconcerned with their whispered commentary. "Fufu. Forgive our sudden intrusion during your meal." He executed a bow so fluid it seemed choreographed, the magenta streaks in his hair catching the light. "We shall take our leave before we overstay our welcome."

As the trio turned, Yue's gaze sharpened. There was something unsettlingly familiar about Lilia's presence, not just the ancient magic thrumming beneath his skin, but the way he carried himself. Like someone who's watched centuries pass by, she realized with a prickle of recognition at the back of her neck.

Before she could second-guess herself, the Fae words slipped out, Quenya, the tongue of Tolkien's high elves, shaped into a teasing proverb with perfect inflection: "Lóte mi vilya, nai cenyalye ar' úquétima." (A flower on the wind, may you be seen but not caught.)

Lilia froze mid-step.

The cafeteria's ambient noise seemed to hush as he turned with deliberate slowness. His crimson eyes gleamed with newfound interest, that ever-present smile widening into something genuinely delighted. "Ohhoo~" he cooed, the musical lilt of his response flowing effortlessly. "Mana ná sina tyenya quettar?" (What is this familiar tongue I hear?)

Yue answered with nothing but a finger pressed to her lips and a smile that held just enough mystery to be intriguing without being challenging. Let him wonder, she thought, watching satisfaction curl through her when his pupils dilated with interest.

"A secretive flower indeed," Lilia murmured, switching back to the common tongue with obvious relish. "Most intriguing~ We simply must continue this conversation another time." His farewell wave was almost theatrical as he disappeared back into his previous table of the Diasomnia table swallowing him whole.

The silence at their own table stretched taut.

Cater and Trey turned toward Yue with near-identical expressions of startled curiosity, a rare crack in their usual composure. Across from them, Ace, Deuce and Grim resembled a trio of gaping fish, their shock so palpable it was almost comical.

"Did she just-" Ace began, leaning so far forward his chest nearly touched the table.

Deuce's voice dropped to a reverent whisper. "That was Fae's speech."

Grim's fur stood on end as he scrambled onto Yue's shoulder. "Whaaat!? That wasn't just some fancy chanting!?" His tiny claws dug into her uniform. "You can actually speak to them!?"

Yue blinked at their reactions, then shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "What? My shishō is an archaeologist." She plucked a grape from her plate, rolling it between her fingers. "Wouldn't it be weird if I, her disciple, couldn't speak the language?"

Beneath the table, her thumb brushed against her palm in an absent rhythm, a nervous tic from another life, when callouses from sword grips had marked her hands instead of ink stains. Just study, she reminded herself firmly. Nothing more.

Outwardly, her smile remained light, effortless. "It's just... part of the curriculum."

Trey's glasses glinted as he exchanged a meaningful glance with Cater, who mouthed silent words with exaggerated precision: "He's full of surprises." The corners of Trey's lips twitched in quiet agreement before he schooled his expression back to its usual calm.

Cater let out a low, appreciative whistle that cut through the cafeteria chatter. "Yuu-chan," he drawled, gesturing with his Magicam pen like it was a conductor's baton, "with that face and that mystical language game? You'd be Pomefiore's darling in a heartbeat." His grin turned conspiratorial as he twirled a lock of imaginary hair. "You've got that whole onnagata charm, like those refined theater actors from the Far East who play elegant ladies on stage. Total androgynous royalty vibes~"

Yue's fingers paused around her teacup, her head tilting just slightly as if considering the comparison. The corner of her lips quirked upward in bemused acknowledgment. "I'll take that as a compliment..." Her gaze drifted past Cater's shoulder, where the Diasomnia students had disappeared into the crowd. "...I think."

I'll definitely remember those faces, she noted silently, cataloguing each distinctive feature in her mind like pages in a field journal.

Ace's chair screeched as he leaned across the table, his voice dropping to a stage whisper that carried anyway. "Our table's, like, twenty meters from theirs." His fingers drummed an uneasy rhythm. "But that guy heard us clear as day from all the way over there?"

Grim's tail puffed up like an electrified bottlebrush, his claws digging into Yue's shoulder. "Scary..." he breathed, the word barely audible.

Trey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in that particular way he did when explaining something obvious for the umpteenth time. "Yeah... that's Diasomnia for you." His glasses slid down slightly as he looked at them over the rims. "Their dorm's filled with students who are... exceptional doesn't quite cover it."

"More like terrifying," Ace muttered, flopping back in his seat with enough force to make the table rattle.

Cater twirled his drink with a lazy finger, the ice cubes clinking like tiny bells. "Their Housewarden? Malleus Draconia." He paused for dramatic effect, lowering his voice as if sharing forbidden knowledge. "Supposedly one of the five greatest sorcerers in the world. Ever. Like, 'written-in-history-books-for-millennia' powerful."

He took a sip, then added with a wink, "TBH, Malleus is kinda the awesomest of the awesome. Totally unreachable." His grin turned knowing. "Though hey, our dorm's Housewarden isn't exactly tame either~"

"You're telling me," Ace scoffed, rubbing his neck as if remembering an invisible collar. "He puts a leash on someone just for eating his tart." His nose wrinkled in indignation. "The worst."

Yue’s fingers tightened around her teacup as the unmistakable voice of Riddle Rosehearts sliced through the casual chatter of the cafeteria. "Hm~? I'm the worst?" His tone, as measured and cool as ever, caused a shiver to run down her spine, a feeling she couldn’t quite shake. It had been only yesterday that she’d heard that same voice, precise and clinical, as Riddle sat at the next table in the library, meticulously organizing his study materials. 

She remembered how his gloved fingers had moved with such purposeful efficiency as he color-coded his notes, the faint scent of ink and pressed flowers lingering in the air around him. His presence had been striking in its quiet intensity, something she’d never quite forget.

"Yeah, only a tyrant would keep up with those kinds of rules. Gimme a break." Ace’s voice was loud and unrepentant, oblivious to the fact that Riddle stood just behind him. He leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin on his face, his fork in one hand as he gestured dismissively. A lone pea flew off his plate and bounced across the table.

Yue bit her lip, unable to look away as the scene unfolded. Ace, ever the troublemaker, was practically begging for trouble, but she could already sense the tension building behind him.

"Seriously, give me a-" Ace's voice faltered as Deuce, sitting across from him, suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened in something between fear and concern.

"Ace, look behind you," Deuce hissed, trying to keep his voice low, but the urgency in it was clear. Ace, however, was too wrapped up in his tirade to notice.

"Eh? What’s-" Ace turned his head just as the unmistakable figure of Riddle Rosehearts loomed behind him, casting a long shadow over the table. The Housewarden of Heartslabyul stood there, arms crossed, his sharp red eyes fixed on Ace with an expression that was a perfect mix of calm and unyielding authority.

"GEH!!! Housewarden?!" Ace’s voice cracked, his earlier bravado evaporating instantly. He scrambled back in his seat, eyes wide as the color drained from his face.

Riddle didn’t move, letting the silence linger in the air for a long moment. Then, in a voice that was as crisp and cutting as ever, he spoke. "You two are the ones who caused a ruckus yesterday, aren’t you?" His tone wasn’t angry, but there was no mistaking the reprimand in it.

Ace’s face flushed in embarrassment, while Deuce shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Yue could practically hear the weight of Riddle’s gaze pressing down on them all, his presence undeniable and unwavering.

"Would you refrain from referring to someone’s unique magic as ‘a weird collar’? Good grief, the Headmaster is too soft. Letting someone off the hook for not following the rules once will break the foundation." Riddle’s words cut through the air like a razor. "All those who don’t follow the rules should just say goodbye to their heads."

Ace, still reeling from the shock of Riddle’s sudden appearance, leaned towards Deuce and muttered under his breath. "His words definitely don’t match his cute face…" The comment was quieter this time, more hesitant, but it carried a note of humor that didn't quite fit the moment.

Before Riddle could respond, Cater’s voice cut through, full of his usual charm. "Hey there, Riddle! You look super cute today, too~♪" He grinned widely, his tone lighthearted, as if he hadn’t just witnessed Ace’s near-panic attack.

Riddle’s red eyes narrowed, a small smirk playing at his lips, but the underlying coldness remained. "Hmph. Keep talking like that, Cater, and it will be off with your head, too."

"Come on now~ Please go easy on me~" Cater’s voice was smooth, almost teasing, and he gave Riddle a pleading look, but his smile never wavered. Despite the playful tone, Yue could sense the subtle tension in the air. Riddle was clearly a force to be reckoned with, even among his own dormmates.

"Ah!? This is the guy who put that weird collar on me during the Opening Ceremony!" Grim's voice rang out, his tone filled with indignation. He puffed out his chest as if trying to appear braver than he felt.

Riddle’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he continued, his voice as cold as ever. "All those who don’t follow the rules should just say goodbye to their heads."

Ace whispered under his breath, clearly unable to resist his sarcasm. "His words definitely don’t match his cute face…"

Riddle’s gaze flickered toward him, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the group and addressed them all with chilling calmness. "The Headmaster may have forgiven you," he said, "but the next time you break the rules, I won’t let you off so easily."

Ace, now with a bit of a resigned sigh, shifted uncomfortably. "Um… By the way, Housewarden…" He hesitated, eyeing the collar around his neck. "Is it possible for you to remove this collar?"

Riddle’s sharp eyes flickered to the collar briefly before he responded, "I was thinking of removing it once you’ve repented, but judging from what you said a while ago, it seems like you’ve yet to do so."

Ace winced at the subtle rebuke but said nothing more.

"I’ll have you walk around like that for a while longer," Riddle continued with a tone that left little room for argument. "You don’t have to worry. The 1st years’ lessons are focused more on theory learning than magic training."

Grim let out an exaggerated groan, and Ace simply slumped lower in his chair.

"If you can’t use magic," Riddle continued, "then something like last week’s ruckus should be impossible. It’s perfect, isn’t it?"

Ace didn’t answer, his posture defeated. Riddle’s rules weren’t just hard to follow, they felt like a trap, each one more rigid than the last.

"Now, if you’re done eating," Riddle said, his tone light yet still sharp, "hurry and go to your next class."

Yue couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Ace. Despite his usual bravado, Riddle’s strict rules were something to fear. Riddle’s unwavering gaze turned to the group once more. "Rule #271 of the Queen of Hearts: ‘You must not spend more than 15 minutes sitting at the table after you’ve eaten.’"

"Another weird rule…" Ace sighed, but his voice lacked its usual defiance. He sounded like someone who had already given up on winning.

Riddle’s gaze remained cold, unwavering. "Answer me with ‘Yes, Housewarden!’"

Both Ace and Deuce responded in unison, clearly defeated, "Yes, Housewarden!"

Riddle’s lips curled slightly, a hint of approval in his expression. "Good."

Trey smiled as he reassured everyone, “Now, now. I’ll see them off, don’t worry.”

Riddle, who had been observing the conversation, folded his arms with a huff. “Hmph. You’re the Vice Housewarden, so you better do your job properly.” His tone was stern, but there was no mistaking the pride in his voice. “As stated by the Queen of Hearts’ Rule #339, ‘After-meal lemon tea should have nothing more or less than 2 sugar cubes in it.’”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “In order to protect that rule, I shall need to buy more sugar cubes at the school store. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

As he turned to walk off, he muttered under his breath, “Good grief, the sugarpot running out of sugar cubes is a capital crime…”

Cater, clearly relieved, let out a laugh. “Man, that was scary…”

Grim, ever the troublemaker, added with a grin, “He’s really lookin’ like a bad guy now, yanno?”

Deuce quickly defended Riddle. “Hey, that’s very rude!”

Two students from Heartslabyul, overhearing the conversation, exchanged glances.

“Did the Housewarden leave?” one asked, peeking around the corner.

The other, looking guilty, muttered, “I completely forgot to follow Rule #186: ‘Never eat hamburg steak on Tuesdays.’ I was wondering what he’d do if he found out…”

With a weary sigh, the first student responded, “ Giving us a bit of freedom won’t hurt him, you know?”

Cater and Trey shared a quiet laugh, glancing over at each other.

Trey then spoke up, “The Housewarden managed to become the head one week after getting into the school. He’s a little bit sharp-tongued, but he’s only got the dorm’s best intentions in mind, so he’s not really a bad guy.”

Grim didn’t seem convinced. “People who think like that don’t just put collars on others,” he grumbled.

Cater and Trey chuckled softly, clearly amused by Grim’s honest but blunt remarks.

Yue’s amusement flickered in her eyes, but she was careful not to show too much. “Sure, sure. I’m sure it’s the pride of your work ethic that’s motivating you.”

Trey, smirking at their playful banter, added, “Anyway, if you’re curious about ‘Unique Magic,’ you’re better off paying attention in class. You’ll learn about it eventually.”

Yue’s curiosity peaked. “So, Riddle’s magic is something only he can use?”

Trey nodded thoughtfully. “Exactly. Magic that can only be used by one person is considered ‘unique magic.’”

Cater piped up, grinning. “Riddle’s unique magic is the ability to seal off another person’s magic for a while. It’s called…” He paused dramatically before mimicking Riddle’s commanding voice, “‘Off with your head!’”

Grim shrieked in mock horror, “Even the name’s scary!”

Cater shrugged, unfazed. “Well, magicians having their magic sealed off is pretty much like having their head chopped off.”

Riddle’s magic could be ruthless, as everyone knew. But Trey was quick to reassure them. “As long as you follow the rules, he can be pretty gentle.”

Grim groaned. “And if we don’t follow them?”

Cater’s grin was mischievous. “Oh, then prepare to be punished. There’s a rule for everything.”

Ace, ever the rebel, asked with a smirk, “Am I gonna get chased out again if I don’t come back with a tart?”

Cater grinned even wider. “Pretty much~ That’s what Rule #53 says, after all.” He then added with a playful tone, “Oh, and since Riddle was looking forward to getting the first slice of that whole cake, he probably won’t forgive you if you don’t bring the same thing.”

Ace groaned, dramatically throwing his head back. “You said you want to get along, but you won’t let me off that easily?!”

Cater raised an eyebrow, “This and that are different~”

Deuce, looking thoughtful, asked, “But isn’t a whole tart a little expensive?”

Ace sighed again. “Ugh… I don’t have that much money…”

Cater quickly suggested, “Then why not make some? Those tarts were all made by Trey here, y’know?”

Yue raised an eyebrow and smirked, “An unexpected talent!”

Ace’s eyes widened. “You made all that, Trey-senpai?! Amazing! It’s better than what they sell here!”

Trey chuckled modestly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha, thanks. I think I have most of the tools and ingredients here… But I won’t simply offer you my services.”

Ace blinked. “Eh?! You’re gonna ask us to pay you!?”

Trey laughed. “Haha, there’s no way I can extort money from a junior, you know?” He paused, then added, “The next tart Riddle wants to eat requires a lot of chestnuts. Would you mind gathering some for me?”

Ace groaned again. “It’s troublesome either way…! So, how much do you need?”

Trey grinned. “About two to three hundred will do.”

Deuce and Grim’s jaws dropped. “That much!?”

Trey’s expression turned more serious. “I’ll have you help me with roasting them and peeling them.” He looked at Grim with a wry smile. “It’ll be fun, I’m sure.”

Grim’s response was immediate, and his eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I go back home?”

Deuce, too, muttered, “Me, too…”

Ace shot them both a glare. “You traitors!”

Cater, always the voice of reason, stepped in. “There, there~ Making them together and then eating them together will make it more delicious~! It’s all about making memories, you know~ You might even start a cooking blog for all we know.”

Trey chuckled along with Cater. “Keep this a secret from the Housewarden, but freshly made marron tart is the best.”

Grim’s ears perked up at the mention of food again, and he eagerly jumped in. “Hey, you boys! Get your rear in gear! We’re gonna go pick some chestnuts ‘til we drop!”

Yue raised an eyebrow at Grim’s sudden enthusiasm and teased, “Wow, you change your mind fast.”

Yue, watching the interactions unfold with a small smile, leaned in to tease, “Of course, when food is involved, you’re very eager to help, Grim.”

Grim puffed up his cheeks in mock offense. “Hey, I’m not doin’ this just for the food! I have my pride!” But his eyes twinkled with excitement, already looking forward to the chestnut picking.

Her gaze softened slightly as she regarded him. “Where exactly do we find the chestnuts?”

Trey motioned toward the forest behind the school’s botanical garden. “There are a lot of chestnut trees right by the forest behind the botanical garden.”

Ace, already on his feet, pumped his fist in the air. “Alright! Then, let’s gather in front of the greenhouse after school.”

Grim, bouncing with energy, added, “Go, go~! We’re goin’ chestnut picking~!”

Yue couldn’t help but chuckle softly, knowing full well that food was a powerful motivator for Grim. At least they were all in it together.

As the freshmen continued with their classes, Ace found himself struggling in more ways than one. Since he couldn’t use magic, Coach Vargas had him paired up with Yue for the physical exercises.

Ace tried to push through each set of exercises, but his movements were sluggish compared to Yue’s effortless pace. His arms burned from the extra effort, and sweat dripped down his brow. He shot a glare at Yue, who, in response, merely flashed a teasing smile.

“Having fun yet?” Yue’s voice rang out playfully, her form precise and fluid as she completed another round with ease. She hadn’t broken a sweat.

Ace huffed, frustrated with himself. “I don’t see why I’m doing this! I’m supposed to be the one leading, not-” He cut himself off with a grunt as he struggled to hold the plank position.

Yue didn’t even flinch, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, Ace, you’re doing just fine. The pace is just... ‘enthusiastic,’ that’s all.”

The sight of Yue breezing through each exercise, smiling as if she wasn’t breaking a sweat, only made Ace’s glare more intense. But he kept pushing himself, trying to match her rhythm, if only to save face. He wasn’t about to be outdone by someone who wasn’t even breaking a sweat and magicless.

However, by the end of the session, Ace was panting heavily, his body sore in places he didn’t know existed. He collapsed to the floor, still struggling to catch his breath. Yue, meanwhile, was wiping a nonexistent speck of dust from her shoulder, utterly unbothered by the workout.

“Looks like someone’s a bit out of shape,” she teased, her grin widening as she noticed his exhausted state. “You should probably train more. A little more effort, and you’ll be keeping up with me in no time.”

Ace, who could only shoot her a tired glare, groaned. “I swear… I’m going to get you for this.”

She laughed softly, enjoying his suffering just a little too much. “Sure, Ace. Sure.”

As the group wrapped up the exercises, Ace trudged behind the others, still trying to recover from the punishment. His body ached, and the idea of going back to his dorm was looking more and more like an impossible dream.

Unfortunately for him, Coach Vargas wasn’t about to let him off easy. “You’re still staying in Ramshackle tonight, Ace. You didn’t finish your last task. Try to rest up in the meantime, but don’t think you’re getting off the hook this easily.”

Ace’s groan echoed in the air as he looked over at the others. He didn’t even have the energy to argue. Instead, he simply dragged his feet, still feeling like his legs might collapse beneath him. “Great. Just great. Another night at Ramshackle…” He muttered to himself.

Yue, sensing his frustration, gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, Ace. You can join me for some leftover dinner at Ramshackle if you want. I’m sure Grim has plenty of room for more food.”

Ace shot her a skeptical look, knowing Grim’s “leftovers” were rarely appetizing, but he appreciated the offer. “I’ll pass... but thanks.”

As the freshmen went their separate ways, Ace’s thoughts were preoccupied with one thing: surviving another night at the infamous Ramshackle Dorm. He sighed, already dreading the chaotic mess awaiting him.

After the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day’s classes, the group walked toward the Woods Behind Campus, their footsteps heavy and slow. The trio of Ace, Deuce, and Grim dragged their feet in defeat, their expressions sagging from the mental exhaustion of the day's ordeal.

They had all been thoroughly berated by Professor Trein for failing to answer the on-the-spot quiz. It had been one of those days where the expectations had been just a bit too high, and they felt like they’d barely managed to scrape by, let alone succeed. Ace, in particular, was still feeling the sting of his underperformance.

Yue, however, was in high spirits, as usual. Her steps were light and effortless, a stark contrast to the trio’s sluggish pace. She glanced over her shoulder at them and smirked, her eyes gleaming with playful amusement.

“Come on, you guys. Cheer up,” she teased, her voice light with mock sympathy. “It wasn’t that bad, right? I mean, I’ve had my fair share of bad quizzes too.”

Ace groaned, rubbing his temples. “How the hellyou were able to memorize everything already? You just got here for like few weeks only?!”

Deuce sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, how is it that you’re better than us who live in this world longer than you? How do you make it look so easy?”

Grim, who had been sulking beside them, suddenly perked up as his eyes landed on a large pile of chestnuts scattered across the forest floor. His previous frustration seemed to vanish instantly, replaced by his usual excitement. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet. “Look at all those chestnuts! We can make tons of marron tarts! All-you-can-eat! Gehehe...” He completely forgot about the conversation and the earlier woes, his focus entirely on the food he could see.

However, his excitement was short-lived. As he rushed toward a particularly large chestnut on the ground, he yelped in pain. “Ouch!!” Grim pulled back his paw with a wince, his face contorted in discomfort. “Gah! The chestnut’s thorns dug into my pawpads!”

Yue couldn’t help but laugh softly at Grim’s misfortune. “Careful there, Grim. Those thorns are sharp. Not the best idea to go grabbing them with your bare paws,” she teased with a wink.

Grim shot her a mock glare but grinned back. “Well, when food’s involved, who can resist?”

Deuce, who had been watching Grim’s antics, turned his attention to the chestnuts as well. “Looks like it’ll be impossible to pick them up with just our hands,” he said, eyeing the prickly husks with mild frustration. “We should’ve brought something to carry them in, too. A bucket would make this a lot easier.”

Ace rubbed his sore shoulders, still frowning from the day’s earlier events. “Maybe we can find something like that in the botanical garden?” He glanced around, squinting at the dense trees and underbrush. “They should have something there, right?”

Deuce nodded thoughtfully. “Shall we go see?” he asked, already starting to move in the direction of the botanical garden.

The moment they stepped through the arching greenhouse doors of the Botanical Garden, a quiet awe settled over them, except for Ace, who immediately blurted, “Whoa! It looks way bigger on the inside!”

And it did. The inside of the garden felt like stepping into an entirely different world. Towering glass walls arched high above, filtering sunlight through a canopy of vibrant greenery. Lush vines dangled from trellises, while carefully arranged hedges lined cobblestone paths that twisted through glades of exotic flowers and curious flora. The air was humid and thick with the scent of fresh earth, blooming petals, and something faintly sweet, almost tropical.

Deuce’s eyes scanned the serene but expansive layout. “We should be able to find the tools we need here. Should we split up and look?”

Ace stretched, his earlier tension beginning to melt away as he nodded. “I’ll go right, then.”

“I’ll check the west side,” Deuce added before heading off down a path flanked by broad-leafed ferns.

Grim tugged at Yue’s sleeve. “C’mon, Yuu. Let’s check the inner gardens,” he said before scampering down a winding path that led deeper into the verdant heart of the greenhouse.

Yue followed, her gaze flitting across the lush scenery. The deeper they went, the more surreal the space became, orchids that shimmered in jewel tones, strange stalks that pulsed gently with light, and trees bearing fruits unlike anything she’d ever seen. Despite herself, she slowed her pace, enchanted by the almost dreamlike atmosphere. The inner garden felt like a sacred oasis, one that hummed with magic and quiet life.

“Hey, come look at this!” Grim called out ahead, standing near a low-hanging branch weighed down with bright, unfamiliar fruits. “There’s tons of stuff here! And they smell amazing!”

Yue caught up and raised an eyebrow. “You can’t just pick them, Grim. These are all plants I’ve never seen before,” she murmured, scanning the garden beds with cautious curiosity. Her fingers hovered near a strange-looking blossom with spiral petals, and her mind ran wild with questions. Were these magical hybrids? Did the garden serve as a research facility? Maybe-

“Ow—!”

A sharp yelp cut through her thoughts.

Yue froze, blinking in confusion. She looked down, and her heart skipped.

Something soft and warm had shifted beneath her boot.

A low growl cut through the humid air.

“Hey,” a voice snarled, gravelly and dangerous. “You’ve got some serious guts stepping on someone’s tail without so much as an apology.”

Startled, Yue and Grim turned. Beneath the shade of a sprawling flowering tree lay a tall young man, propped up on one elbow and scowling. His tan skin contrasted sharply with the pale blossoms above him, and the light filtering through the leaves caught in his thick, dark-brown hair. Strands of it cascaded over his shoulders, some braided and bound with yellow bands. His long bangs cast shadows over his sharp emerald eyes, eyes that now narrowed directly at Yue.

A thin scar ran from his brow down to his cheekbone, giving him an even more menacing edge. His sleeveless tunic left one arm exposed, where a black lion tattoo coiled around his bicep like a warning.

Grim blinked at the stranger. “Are you the guy takin’ care of this place? Geez, you’ve got a scary mug!”

The young man didn’t seem amused. “I came here for a nap, hoping for some peace and quiet, but then someone steps on my tail. This is the worst.”

“I—I’m so sorry!” Yue blurted, bowing quickly. She hadn’t even noticed the tail, long, dark, and barely visible against the soil and shaded roots. “I didn’t see-” She was mesmerized by the unknown flora in the Botanical Garden that she wasn't alert enough.

The man’s eyes narrowed further as he sat up straighter, his attention locking fully on Yue. “You... Ah. You’re the little herbivore the Headmaster mentioned. The one who can’t use magic.”

Then, without warning, he leaned closer and sniffed her.

Yue stiffened. Is he... sniffing me?!

Grim recoiled beside her, ears flattened. “Ugh... I don’t know why, but his glare’s sendin’ chills down my spine!”

The man, Leona, as he soon revealed, snorted. “You think you can just walk off scot-free after stepping on the tail of the great Leona Kingscholar? Hah. You’ve got nerves.”

His lips pulled into a tight smirk, revealing slightly sharp canines. “I’m already in a bad mood after having my nap ruined. You better start gritting your teeth.”

Yue swallowed hard, trying to maintain composure despite the tension radiating from him. Thank the Seven... Professor Crewel made me wear that scentless perfume before coming here. A small part of her was beginning to suspect that without it, things might’ve turned much worse. There was something cautious, almost predatory, in Leona’s expression, and it wasn’t just from annoyance.

“Hey!” Grim whispered sharply. “Let’s make a run for it!”

Before Yue could respond, Grim snatched her hand and tugged her away from the scene, the two of them stumbling through the lush garden paths as Leona’s gaze followed them.

She glanced over her shoulder once, heart racing. The stranger remained under the tree, watching with a conflicted look on his face, somewhere between irritation and suspicion. Yue furrowed her brows slightly. Who... is he?

A voice called out in the distance, lighthearted yet exasperated. “Leona-san~!”

Leona turned his head, already scowling. “What?”

“I knew you’d be here! You’ve got supplementary lessons today!”

“Here comes the noisy one,” Leona muttered with a heavy sigh.

“You already repeated a year, Leona-san,” the newcomer said, stepping into view. “If you keep skipping classes like this, we’ll end up being classmates next year. Not that I’d mind, but still.”

Leona groaned. “Ah, shut it. Stop nagging, Ruggie.”

The boy who approached had a stark contrast to Leona’s intimidating presence. Light-skinned and of average height, he carried an impish energy. His short, fluffy hair curled upward at the ends, with a playful mess of sandy and darker blond tones. Perched atop his head were large, round-tipped hyena ears, and a stubby tail wagged behind him. His bluish-gray eyes sparkled with amusement, a mischievous grin permanently affixed to his face. A set of small, sharp fangs peeked out whenever he talked.

“Hey, I don’t want to nag you either!” Ruggie huffed. “But geez, you could do anything you wanted if you just put in the effort. C’mon, let’s go already!”

Leona stood slowly, brushing leaves from his hair with deliberate laziness mutter under his breaths. “Tch. You better be on guard next time we meet, herbivores.”

Yue, still catching her breath behind a nearby wall of fragrant ferns, felt the weight of his last words linger longer than they should have. There was something sharp in his tone, not just pride or arrogance, but a hint of instinctual suspicion. A noble predator trained to be wary. Taught to expect betrayal.

She hadn’t known who he was, hadn’t expected him at all. But now, she had a feeling their paths would cross again.

And next time, he might not be so forgiving.

Once they were a good distance away and tucked behind a thick wall of vines, Grim collapsed into a crouch, clutching his furred head.

“Gah!! That was nerve-wracking...!” he whined, tail bristling. “What’s with that beastly attendant?!”

Yue leaned against a nearby marble column, still catching her breath. “I... don’t think he works here,” she said quietly, glancing back the way they came.

Grim blinked. “Huh?”

She tilted her head, recalling the sharp gleam in those verdant eyes, the lazy, almost regal posture, and the way the air itself had seemed to shift around him. “He was more like a lion than a gardener.”

“A really grumpy lion…” Grim muttered, still puffed up.

Before they could dwell on it, Ace came trotting down the stone path, a wicker basket slung under one arm and a pair of silver tongs in the other.

“There you guys are!” he called out. “We found a basket and some tongs in the shed over there!”

Deuce followed right behind, eyes flicking between Yue and Grim with concern. “You two okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Grim perked up, shaking his head rapidly. “Oh, that’s right! We were supposed to be pickin’ chestnuts! If we don’t bring any back, no chestnut tarts for us!”

He hopped up onto Yue’s shoulder, clearly eager to change the subject. “Let’s worry about the scary lion guy later. Tart first, trauma later, yeah?”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Scary lion guy?”

“We’ll explain after,” Grim chirped, waving a paw. “Right now, it’s nut-pickin’ time!”

As the others started toward the grove of chestnut trees lining the garden’s edge, Yue lingered behind for a beat, gaze drifting up toward the canopy of leaves. The dappled sunlight swayed across her face, but her mind was elsewhere, back to those piercing eyes, the casual threat in his tone, and the way he'd instinctively sniffed her as if searching for something invisible.

He didn’t buy it, she thought. The perfume masked my scent, but... he was suspicious. Like he’d been trained to be.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the handle of the second basket Deuce handed her, the woven edge grounding her thoughts. That man, Leona. He didn’t seem like a normal student at all. I guess I can keep an eye of him when we cross path.

“…And that’s what happened,” Grim concluded with a dramatic flourish, arms flailing as he recounted the tail-stepping incident for what had to be the third time. “I swear, I thought he was gonna bite our heads off!”

Ace snorted, tossing a chestnut into the basket with a flick of his wrist. “That dude’s definitely not an attendant. No way someone with that kind of glare is pruning hedges for fun.”

Grim puffed out his cheeks. “Right?! He looked like he was ready to claw us apart for just breathing the same air.”

Yue, who had been silently tying the top of her bag, looked up thoughtfully. The image of Leona lounging beneath the tree, tail twitching lazily, flashed across her mind again, along with the way he’d stared at her like she was something he couldn’t quite place. She didn’t say anything, but the weight of his gaze still lingered on her skin.

“Now that I think about it,” Grim said, scratching his chin with a claw, “he was wearing this yellow vest thing. Maybe he’s from the… uh, sakana(1) Dorm?”

Deuce blinked. “Mackerel…? Oh. You mean Savanaclaw.”

“Yeah, that!” Grim nodded rapidly. “All tooth and tail types, right? It makes sense now!”

Deuce crossed his arms, frowning a bit. “Maybe Night Raven College just… has a lot of delinquents.”

Ace laughed. “It’s practically a requirement here. But hey, no one said this school was boring.”