Chapter Text
“Okay…backpack, check. Phone, check. Wallet, check…”
Suletta ambles about the small apartment, still dim from the low natural light of the morning, patting her pockets for every needed article, as she mumbles to herself.
Her mother says it's a bad habit of hers, to mutter to herself, especially in public, says that people will get the wrong idea about her, but at times she really can't help it. She can just think better this way.
“Watch…ah! My watch!” She scurries into her room to retrieve it, nearly tripping on the way, pulling it onto her wrist as she paces to the front once more. “Okay, watch, check. Right!” That's everything. She laces up her shoes and checks herself in the small mirror that hangs on the wall in the foyer, adjusting her mother's headband where it sits on her crown and beaming at her bright-eyed reflection. Clipped to the mirror is a worn photo of a man whose smile, eyes, and brows match hers, posing with a pair of boxing gloves slung around his shoulders.
She thumbs it gingerly.
“Bye, Dad,” she whispers before turning on her heel.
“Bye, Mom! Bye, Eri!” she calls as she heads out the door, though no response comes from within the empty apartment, nor does she expect one.
—
The autumn air is fresh in her lungs as she takes a huge inhale and lets it all out. The wind ruffling her thick red hair, she feels as though she’s flying, gliding through the air, as she sweeps through the streets on Aerial.
She’s not running late by any measure; she’d made absolutely sure that if anything, she would be early for her first day, right down to setting an early alarm. Not that it had been needed anyway, seeing as how her nerves had woken her up before her phone could even ring.
Suletta is just so excited to finally be attending an actual school! Not an online one, nor one taught by Mom or Eri, but a real, actual school with other people! She remembers all the begging and pleading she'd done to have her mother even consider letting her enroll in a proper school for the last two years of high school. She needs it, she'd wept, her mother's hand held in both of hers, how can she go to college without ever socializing properly with people? Her grades have always been good, her work ethic is impeccable, so proper high school would be perfect for her. Suletta thought it a compelling argument, and apparently, thankfully, so did her mother. She was shocked when her mother had actually said yes, and cried tears of joy for the rest of that day.
She hasn’t stopped smiling since she got out of bed, and even now as she bikes as steadily as she always has, her limbs thrum with the vibrations of her excitement. She thinks of all the people she'll meet and get to talk to, all the friends she’ll make and meals they’ll share, and laughs aloud against the wind in her face.
The list she’d comprised of every goal she intends to achieve while making friends only emanates her zeal, as she runs through it in her mind. At this point, she knows it by heart. She’d run through it five times at breakfast, and more times even before today. It comes all too easy to her. When she finishes, she gets the sudden itch to pull out her notebook to physically read it. She feels a little silly about the notion. There’s really no need for her to pull it out to read again. But…she is early after all, she thinks giddily. She's got plenty of time. What’s the harm in it?
The streets are still tinged blue-ish as the sun is yet to fully rise, and the only other students she’d seen heading in the same direction she is are long behind her, having only just begun their walk. She’d given them a warmhearted wave as she passed.
Aerial smoothly comes to a stop at a bike rack, and Suletta hops off, giggling to herself and unshouldering her backpack.
She’s just flipped to her list, tracing her fingers over her own neat writing and mouthing the numbered items softly to herself, when a girl appears on the sidewalk, running, running –
– and slamming straight into Suletta.
Suletta yelps and to her credit only stumbles backward from the impact. The girl, however, falls over completely, a mess of skinny limbs, strewn duffel bag, and shiny platinum hair onto the pavement, crying out as she lands.
“O-Oh, my goodness!” Suletta squeaks as she shoves her notebook back into her bag and immediately reaches out for the girl. “I-I’m so sorry, miss, I d-didn’t –”
“Stop!” the girl screeches, no doubt angry as Suletta attempts to help her up. “Don’t interfere!”
“Y-You’re okay, just let me –”
“– off of me! I need to – “
“ – help you!”
“ – get away!!!”
“Mistress Miorine!” comes a hurried yet stern third voice, as two suited men in sunglasses rush toward them. “There you are!”
By now, Suletta has her on her feet, and the girl is gritting her teeth now, glaring at the two men.
“Is she bothering you, ma’am?” the second man asks brusquely, gaze intent on Suletta, who squeaks, puts her hands up, and takes a broad step away from the other girl.
“N-N-No! I was just –”
“Mind your own business,” the girl snaps, and Suletta flinches hard, only to find that she was addressing the two men.
“Ma’am, please, you ought to come with us,” one of the men says; Suletta has already confused them with one another, “Your father has been made aware already, there’s no use in –”
“Enough,” she barks, “Just take me to him and get it over with already.”
With that, the girl with platinum hair strides away with the two men in tow, duffel bag shrugged over her shoulder, but not before fixing Suletta with the most scathing glare that she’s ever received.
Stunned as they go, flushed from the excitement and fidgeting with her fingers, Suletta belatedly realizes two things: that the girl was wearing the same uniform as her own, and that her hair had shimmered in the morning light as she turned away.
—
Asticassia Preparatory Academy.
It stands proud and tall before her, regal and palatial in all senses of both words, constructed in aged brick and pointed spires, speaking to its vast history and reputation in Front Sector. It resembles an Ivy League university more than it does a private high school, with a full quad and courtyard resting front and center before the main building, and a plethora of trees with yellowing leaves adorning the yard and accompanying the architecture beautifully.
Suletta can only gawk at the sheer magnitude of this moment, as she walks Aerial down the main path. Not only is she finally attending a proper school, it’s much more glamorous than the website had shown.
By now, the other students have begun to filter in, being dropped off by chauffeurs or emerging from their own luxury vehicles, and filtering into groups as they began to populate the quad and socialize.
They pay Suletta no mind, and she herself is too rapt with the spectacle of this place to notice, even as she secures Aerial's lock to a bike rack.
“‘Scuse me!”
Suletta yelps and finds that another girl has approached her, only this time there’s no collision involved and she’s a polite distance away, holding a clipboard in her arms, her black hair swept across her forehead and highlighted sea blue.
“Oh! Um…” Suletta looks behind her, then back, “M-Me?”
The girl smiles brightly. “Yes! Are you by any chance Miss…” She glances at her clipboard, “Suletta Samaya?”
“Ah, y-yes, that’s me!”
“Wonderful! I’m Nika Nanaura, pleased to meet you!” They shake hands when Nika offers, with Suletta visibly shaking. “I’ve been assigned to show you around and inform you on school guidelines.”
“R-Right! Yes! Th-That’s –” Trying to will herself to stop stammering, Suletta gives an awkward bow. “Th-Th-Thank you! Thank you v-very much!”
“Are you alright? I understand first days can be a bit nerve-wracking…”
Suletta swallows and straightens, eyes still down at her feet. “Um. Well. T-To tell you the truth…this, um, this is my first time going to a school, e-ever.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“That’s…kind of incredible. It says here you’re a junior; you’ve got a full two years before you graduate.”
Only two, she means. It’s the most her mother had been willing to give her.
“Well, you sure have your work cut out for you,” Nika says lightheartedly; only belatedly does Suletta realize that Nika has automatically picked up on the way her mood has dampened. “Here.” Nika fishes her phone out of her pocket. “Why don’t we exchange numbers and you can text me if you have any problems here?”
Instantly, Suletta brightens. “R-Really? You mean it?”
“Of course.”
A brief exchange cements Nika’s number in her cellphone and Suletta’s in hers, and Suletta has to pause to marvel at it.
“Wow…My first time exchanging phone numbers with someone…” As if the phone was going to explode or reset or somehow erase it from its data, she carefully slips it back into the pocket of her skirt. “Thank you, Miss Nika!”
“Of course!”
Before Suletta can marvel for too long, several voices nearby snipe:
“Look, there she is.”
“So stuck-up…who does she think she is?”
“Acting so much better than us…”
“I heard she tried to make a run for it again.”
“Ha! She’s so pathetic.”
“B-Be quiet! What if she hears you?”
“Yeah, if she told her father about this…”
There’s a clear direction that the gossip is pointed toward, the students staring unabashedly yet keeping their voices low – strutting across the quad with meanest mug ever, her hair swaying elegantly behind her, and nary a school bag nor book in sight is that girl from before.
Miorine.
“That’s Miorine Rembran,” Nika supplies quietly, vaguely intimidated. Suletta realizes she’d been staring in – fear? curiosity? “She’s queen bee around here. Her dad owns the group that owns this school.”
“Miorine…Rembran,” Suletta parrots.
“I’d steer clear if I were you, Miss Suletta. There’s something of a…hierarchy here, and Miorine is right at the – Miss Suletta!?”
Nika’s protest is only a distant cry to Suletta as by now she’s only steps away from the sour-looking girl, her hands shaking and knees buckling more with every step.
“E-E-Excuse m-me!” she stammers far too loud. “M-M-Miss –”
“Huh? ” The girl – Miorine – turns to regard her with plain disinterest. Suletta’s eyes immediately drop to her shoes and she hides her face behind her phone.
“I’m s-sorry about earlier!” Miorine squints in Suletta’s peripheral, stepping forward; Suletta continues trembling. “I-I-I didn’t mean to g-get you into trouble! I-I’ll be sure to t-t-take responsibility!!”
“It’s you,” Miorine seethes before pausing and looking around. Then she quiets her voice, “Shut up about that, just forget it ever –”
“Another valiant escape attempt, Princess? ”
A displeasured look comes over Miorine’s face. Shocked out of her nervous stupor, Suletta follows her angry gaze to find the crowd of students parting to let a pair of girls through, a tall, smug-looking girl with long brown hair tied back into a low ponytail and a shorter, and a feistier-looking girl with short sandy hair in a spiky updo. Though both wear the standard regulation uniforms, they’ve ditched the staple blazers (or the other option of a sweater) to roguishly sport their white dress shirts with their sleeves rolled up. The display is accompanied by expensive-looking designer shoes, flashy jewelry on their ears and wrists, and they’ve rolled up their skirts so that the hems rest way higher on their thighs than the school's dress code allows.
Suletta swallows and begins to tremble again.
The shorter girl cocks her hip. “How about you finally get it right so that we don’t have to see you here anymore?”
“Just great,” Miorine grumbles, rolling her eyes. “And if you two are here, he’s definitely not far behind.”
“I hope you’re not using that tone when referring to Sir Guel,” says the tall brunette, who towers over Miorine intimidatingly.
Though Suletta is struck with fear, Miorine crosses her arms and returns the energy, “What? Mad that I took your lord and savior’s name in vain, Petra?”
The shorter girl pushes Miorine’s shoulder. “Bitch – just who do you think you’re talking to!?”
Before Miorine can retaliate, the crowd jostles and begins to rush to another end of the quad, where a commotion arises.
“Sir Guel!” the short girl says excitedly and follows the crowd, with Petra in tow, all anger and intentions to fight vanishing. A new wave of students begins to push Suletta and Miorine in the direction of the noise.
“Wh-What’s happening?” Suletta yelps.
Miorine sighs loudly.
“You must be new here. Which would explain a lot. Best that you see it for yourse – hey! Quit pushing!”
Before either know it, they’re up close to where the others have spread out in a circle around whatever is happening. Miorine steps forward and snarls, “Move out of my way!” to the students around her and they cower and back up, granting them some space as she moves forth. Sheepishly, Suletta sticks behind her.
In the center of the rowdy circle of jeering teenagers are two boys having a fist fight, already scuffed up, hands raised and guarding, and prowling around one another.
“Oh, my goodness!” Suletta exclaims, “Wh-What do we do!? Do we call someone? Do we –”
“That isn’t really how things work around here,” Miorine interrupts with alarming calmness. “This sort of thing is, unfortunately, quite normal.”
“This is normal? ”
One of the boys, much less injured than his opponent, smirks and rushes forward. The two get into a grapple, lurching and twisting for dominance, but the smirking boy manages to get an advantage on the other, sweeping his legs beneath his and slamming him down on his back on the grass. The cheers from the crowd spike exponentially. The boy on top wails on his victim, striking him over and over, until the latter cries for mercy. In that instant, it’s over. The victor rises and stands tall as the students around him cheer.
“Sir Guel! Sir Guel!”
“He’s so cool!”
"Miss Miorine is such a lucky girl..."
"Goddammit! This is the last time I bet on randos!"
“I knew it! Parker didn’t stand a chance!”
“Who would? Guel hasn’t lost once!”
Another boy, one with long dark hair draping over one eye, steps away from the crowd and drapes a regulation blazer over the victor’s broad shoulders. At the front of the crowd, Suletta can see just how tall he is, thick arms pumping in the air, his wrist gleaming with a gaudily expensive watch, similar to the alternation made to those girls’ uniforms. His hair is long and clipped back into a mullet, with a burst of hair in the front dyed an outrageous pink. His eyes are wild and cocky from his fight, as they set upon Miorine in circle of people.
“Did you see that, Miorine?” Guel loudly boasts, wiping the blood from his split lip. “That was all for you!”
Despite the attention drawn to her, and the odd declaration, Miorine doesn’t answer, and merely turns her nose upward and walks back into the crowd away from Guel.
Completely undeterred, Guel turns back to his fellow students and laps up their praise.
Suletta stands in the middle of it all, shellshocked for the second time just this morning, wondering:
Is this how all high schools are?