Chapter Text
It was a peaceful lunch-break in Eden Academy canteen.
A 13 year-old Anya Forger had a seat with her bench mate, Becky Blackbell. They peacefully enjoyed their meal. As grown-up ladies, they were taught not to speak during eating, since the sound of munching and splattering foods from their mouth wouldn’t be elegant to be seen.
Nothing went really wrong.
Until the second scion of Desmond arrived with his lackeys from Egeburg and Elman.
Damian, Ewen, and Emile had their lunch on their hands. They walked past Anya and Becky without giving a care. They took a seat next to the two girls.
But then, out of the blue, Ewen shouted.
“Same omelete and beef fried rice again? Your taste is really lame, you know?”
Anya and Becky both jolted.
“What the hell?” Becky replied. “Who are you judging our foods? Just mind yours!”
“But at least, we changed our menu every day,” Emile threw his mockery while chuckling in satisfaction. “We have more varied and sophisticated tongues than yours. Beat it!”
Ewen and Emile chuckled together, then shared a high-five. Becky had her veins swollen on her forehead. Soon later, she and the boys exchanged insults in wild manner, trying to prove whose tongue was better up to whose cook was the best. Classic scene of rivalry.
Meanwhile, Damian and Anya didn’t seem to bother at all. The two of them completely ignored the ruckus their friend had, and continued to empty their plate in silence. Both of them were eerily silent it made everyone in the canteen frowned in confusion.
“Won’t you say something, sir Damian?” Ewen persuaded Damian to speak up. “That Blackbell girl just insult your taste of food isn’t better than that pink head commoner!”
“Yes!” Emile added. “That’s so condescending! How could her father even be better at cooking than our cook?! That’s nonsense!”
Damian didn’t reply. He continued eating his beef steak calmly to the very last bit.
Ewen and Emile stared at each other. A visible worry could be seen from their eyes.
“Anya’s done,” Anya said while putting her fork and knife down to her empty plate. She turned around to see Becky. “Let’s go back to class now.”
“Anya, for real?!” Becky yelled in shock. “You’re gonna just let them slid away after those insults to my—I mean, Mr.Loid?!”
Anya coldly shrugged her shoulder. “Let them be.”
Becky was startled. She couldn’t believe as she realized the spark of liveliness that once brightening her friend’s emerald green eyes had faded away.
The two lackeys were also seemed to be shocked as well seeing Anya’s reaction.
“As you know, your father would never surpass my family cook!” Ewen yelled. “Moreover Desmond’s family’s! they have the best cooks in the country, you must know!”
“Yes! Tell your father that!” Emile added passionately.
“That’s too much!” Becky yelled back in anger, slamming her hands on the table.
Meanwhile, Anya quietly stood up with her plate on her hands, shocking Becky and the boys. Her face was stoic as paper. She then started to walk away to put her dish to the counter without giving any glance to anyone.
Becky, still startled and confused, quietly followed Anya on her right side, bringing her dish as well.
Just as then, suddenly a paper cup hit Anya’s back strongly. Anya’s body flinched by the force. She spontaneously stopped her feet and squeaked in agony.
“Oh my God!” Becky shrieked. She quickly put her dish aside as she saw Anya trying to rub her back. She took the fallen paper cup on the floor, stood up, and looked at the person doing such annoying thing.
To Becky’s surprise—and maybe everyone, since the air suddenly became so quiet and tense—Damian was standing up with his right hand hanging in front of his body. He panted so bad. His face was red to his ears, while his eyes looking straight forward sharply to Becky’s direction.
But, after Becky confirmed, it was for Anya.
“Stop being so annoying, you little shrimp!” Damian shouted with rage clearly heard.
Ewen, Emile, and Becky awfully gasped in terror. Meanwhile, Anya just stood quietly, not even giving any glance from the corner of her eyes. She stayed expressionless.
“Can’t you at least say something, or are you totally imbecile?!” Damian continued. “Or maybe your father was not that important that you don’t feel you have to defend him when he’s insulted?!”
Anya didn’t budge.
The air inside the canteen suddenly became too suffocating for everyone watching.
Damian sat back at his seat. He grabbed his knife and fork, then stayed still. He strongly bit his lower lip. His blazing eyes went dark and gloomy, looking emptily at his plate.
Anya quietly left her place with slow walk. Her head faced straight ahead. Her dishes rumbled from her shaking hands.
Both of them left the trio exchanging stares in total distress. Becky continued following Anya after quietly giving the boys signals for help.