１００点

Club activities were temporarily postponed, as it was more important to Crowley that everything look spick and span. Brooms were to be used for sweeping, not Spelldrive, and anyone caught with enough time to be playing board games would be put to work weeding the athletic fields instead.

A handful of random first years found themselves cleaning an unused classroom one slow afternoon, a task that Trein asked them to take care of. The old lecture hall looked more like a storage closet, with piles of outdated textbooks stacked upon dry rotting chairs, surrounded by boxes of old assignments.

Ace lifted one of these boxes and set it on a table, kicking up a low cloud of dust in the process.

Deuce waved his arm through the air and, between coughs, complained, “Hey! Can’t you watch what you’re doing? I literally just finished cleaning the carpet.”

“Man, I don’t get it,” Ace said in response, sighing. “Nobody ever uses this room anyway. That’s why it’s so dusty.”

Deuce grimaced as the dust settled all over his hard work. He’d have to redo it once Ace finished messing around with the boxes.

“The lack of windows isn’t helping,” Epel lamented. He had the forethought to tie a rag around his face before he started dusting and was spared from the worst of the grime. The shelves were awfully dirty.

Even with wind magic, it felt like they were just going in circles, moving the clutter from one place to another and then back again. In one hour they had barely improved anything. Old schools could be such a pain.

“I do believe there is a more efficient way to divide our labor, if anyone would listen,” Ortho stated. He was taking care of the cobwebs that had settled into the ceiling lights, and got to enjoy glancing down at his classmates’ progress. “Epel Felmier, you missed a spot.”

Sebek gritted his teeth. Water trickled down the blackboard as he gripped a sponge in his hand and snapped, “What’s not helping are your indolent attitudes! Less griping, more moving, humans!” He proceeded to scrub the blackboard so loud, it squeaked.

Jack’s ears twitched. That high pitched squeaking would break the last of his patience if he didn’t leave. “I’ll take the recycling out,” he offered, and grabbed one of the boxes Ace was working on.

“Ah, I haven’t checked that one yet,” Ace said. “Hold on… ow!?”

He flexed his hand, perplexed, before realizing what had happened. Ace had gone to grab the container from his classmate’s hand and instead grazed the tip of Jack’s tail, resulting in a snappy jolt of static electricity to the both of them.

“Watch it,” Jack growled, setting the box back on the table. His tail jerked away and fell to his side. Sebek’s scrubbing was still getting on his nerves. “Hurry up and give me one you’ve checked already.”

Ace’s hand stung for just a second, but his brain was struck with an even bigger bolt of inspiration. He only half-listened to Jack as he formulated a split-second plan and kicked off his shoes. “Hey, Deuce. Lend me a hand, will ya?”

Deuce sighed and rolled his eyes. He rose from a crouched position and joined his dormmate. “What?”

Ace shuffled his feet, building both anticipation and static. The instant Deuce was in range, he donned a giant dorky grin and reached across the table to shock him with a tap to the nose.

Deuce fell back, more in surprise than pain, knocking a stack of books into Epel. “Ace! I mean — sorry Epel — I mean, come on, dude!”

Ace was too busy laughing to notice all the eyes in the room on him. Jack and Sebek were none too pleased with his tomfoolery. Ortho drifted down to measure the atmosphere. “Wow! The air in here contains only 21.3% humidity,” he marvelled. “Your movements, when combined with the old polypropylene carpet, create rather optimal conditions for static electricity.”

“Is that so?” Epel asked. As he shook off the books and picked himself up, he felt the odd sensation in his fingers. It increased when he dusted his pants off. It was only natural to discharge it on the nearest person, Jack.

“Really?” he said, backing up several paces as Epel brandished his hands at him. “This is so childish.”

He was not interested in getting involved in dumb games. The faster they cleaned up and got Trein’s approval, the faster he could get back to training. Jack backed away from the threatening finger wiggle, all the way to the front of the room, where he unfortunately bumped into a seething Sebek.

Once again, Jack’s tail was the culprit in a static incident.

“Ah, sorry,” he uttered after the tiny zap wore off. He had only intended to escape Epel. Sebek was unfortunate collateral damage.

“Is there anything you can do correctly?” he hissed.

“Pardon?” Epel now had his hands folded innocently over his chest in a sign of good faith.

“First, you can’t clean!” Sebek shouted, digging his heel into the floor. “Then you become negligent and goof around with this pathetic display!” He banged the blackboard with a fist and barked, “you can’t even slack off properly! You call that static electricity? Hah!”

In the background, the two Heartslabyul freshmen had begun to bicker, poking each other in the face back and forth with weak little zaps. They weren’t paying attention when Sebek threw down his sponge, but his outburst was loud enough to shut them up. They watched with wide eyes as the others got scolded.

“Uh oh…”

“Dude, calm down…”

The air began to crackle with magic. Sebek reached for his magical pen and prepared to unleash his unique magic. Epel and Jack looked gobsmacked as he boasted, “I’ll show you what a real shock feels like. Living Bolt!”

It wasn’t at full power, but it still shocked the daylights out of everyone in the room. Sebek included. There was a loud clang. The six freshmen found themselves crumpled on the stuffy floor moments later, dazed and angry.

“Well! What did you think of that!” Sebek boasted with pride. It sounded painful.

“Dude!” Ace and Deuce groaned at the same time.

Epel spewed a string of indecipherable expletives while the world spun around him and followed it up with, “you done try that agin and I’ll mommick you up.”

Every bone in the room was sore and everyone’s skin felt raw. Ears rung. The students patted their uniform down to discharge as much as they could. Tingles of static danced through the air before fading.

“Uh, guys?”

Jack was kneeling over Ortho, who was face down on the ground. The lights dotted across his uniform gear were turned off. He was stiff, and the only movement came from the slow cascade of his flaming hair.

“Is this normal?” Jack asked, hovering his hands over the boy in concern. He didn’t know first aid for robots.

Sebek’s jovial grin turned into a deep frown of worry. All of the freshmen hurried to Ortho’s side, remaining static be damned.

“Ortho?” Epel called. There was no response.

Sebek and Jack worked to flip him over without damaging any of the expensive-looking equipment. His chest flame was still ablaze, but his eyes were closed. Epel lifted one open with no resistance to find them glossy and unfocused.

“I can’t feel a pulse,” Sebek stated. He was failing to find a heartbeat under the chunky bracelet-like cuffs. All of Ortho was metallic and cold.

“He’s dead?” Ace gasped. He turned to Deuce in alarm. “We killed Ortho!”

”Idia’s gonna kill us! We’re gonna get expelled and killed!” Deuce screeched.

“Sebek, do something!” Epel commanded.

Ace nodded and nearly tugged his own hair out. “Yeah, this is all your fault! What are we gonna do!?”

“Me!?” Sebek looked aghast, but he could not deny this was the result of his own power. “Ortho! I demand you wake up this instant!”

Ortho was silent. Not even an electronic whir. His gears were frozen.

Jack scowled, “that’s not gonna do anything. We have to take him to the infirmary.”

“And what are they gonna do, huh?” Deuce demanded. He was starting to get hysterical. Ace grabbed him by the sleeve as he wailed, “We’re already doomed! They’re gonna kick us out of school! If we go to the infirmary, Crewel’s gonna lay into us! What are we gonna tell Idia?”

“It’s not my fault!” Sebek yelled back. They were the ones who started it.

A cacophony of rebuttals could be heard from the hallway. The old classroom was filled with shouting and finger pointing as the freshmen argued. They were so loud, they missed the little “hehe” that lit up Ortho’s external neck LEDs.

Epel only noticed when he looked down in frustration, as though all hope was lost. He thought he was seeing things. The slight color coursing through the fiber optic cables could have been a trick of the light. He said, cautiously, “hey, Ortho…?”

The next fit of giggles caught everyone’s attention. The thrusters around his waist popped back to life and his optical sensors came back online as Ortho chuckled to himself.

“Ortho…!” Deuce grabbed the boy’s shoulder with relief. He wasn’t going to get pummeled by Ignihyde’s housewarden, after all.

Ortho sat upright. Though his mouth was covered, his eyes were clearly smiling. “I’m touched you all care so much for me.”

Jack released the breath he had unknowingly been holding. His fur was still standing on end, but that could have been from the static.

“Are you alright?” Epel asked.

“Just fine! My brother ensures all of my gear have an anti-static coating. I thought it might be fun to play a little prank on you all.” All systems were green and there were never any anomalies. The reactions of his classmates were so much fun. He couldn’t wait to show his roommates the recording.

Ace fell back onto the ground and spread his arms out. His heart was racing a mile a minute. “Give us a break, man!”

“Sebek Zigvolt, your unique magic is quite powerful!” Ortho chimed. He was in high spirits despite being proclaimed dead just a minute ago. “You all may want to check your phones if they were in your pockets.”

Sebek was too busy crying in relief to accept the compliment. He sputtered something vaguely apologetic sounding and wiped a single tear that threatened to spill over. For a moment, his sniveling was the only sound in the room.

Then a stern-sounding voice rang out from the doorway. “I don’t know what’s going on in here, but this room is as much a mess as when you started.”

Professor Trein did not look kindly upon his pupils. Everyone appeared to be slacking off, sitting on the ground and chattering. Everyone immediately straightened their backs and scrambled to stand.

The whole gang is lulled to sleep amid the rustling of tree branches just outside the window and old creaking floorboards echoing through the dorm. Deuce mumbles something unintelligible, and Ace snores in response. You're too tired to tell whether a sleeping Grim is batting you in the stomach or if someone's hand is unconsciously curling around your waist.

His squeezes had to be smaller. Subtler. A light tug on your sleeve when you start to walk away. He holds the fabric gently between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger. You could easily pull away if you wanted to, but his gaze will follow.

He decorates you with objects. Wrapping streamers from a party you're cleaning up around your shoulder. Tying a long strip of receipt paper from the lounge register around your waist. Blindfolding you with a sweaty sock after practice to see how mad you get.

He hooks his foot around your leg when you sit at the same table, no matter who else might be present. Jade was once quite irked after Floyd reached past his leg, kicking it aside and getting dirt on his pants, just to tap your ankle. You have to be careful when it's just the two of you because he'll gradually tangle his leg around you, more and more, until you've got a merman practically sitting in your lap, binding you to the chair.

You hear him running up behind you in the halls, sneakers thudding against the stone, just to stop at the last second and hook his arm around yours. He barely touches you. Simply links his arm around your elbow and continues on his way to class. You might get dragged to his classroom if the bell is about to ring.

You watched Riddle dutifully follow this path, never straying from the center of the sidewalk. He walked with dignity and purpose. It took a bit more time, but he circumvented the grass in the center and kept going on his way.

You watched Leona pass by just seconds later. He kept going in a straight line, confidently trodding right off the path. He yawned and rolled his shoulder as the grass crunched under his sandals. It didn't hinder his lofty stride one bit.

As the one with pockets, you typically keep the phone on your possession. Not always, though. Sometimes you leave it on the table, or forget it in your pocket when you change, or Grim really wants to see if the magic chocolate guy uploaded a new video and swipes it when you're not paying attention.

This can cause issues when someone is trying to reach you. Luckily, it's easy to tell who has the phone when half of your duo is a self-absorbed direbeast.

"Heeeey," Ace wrote. "Are you coming to today's Unbirthday Party? Housewarden wants a head count."

"OFC OURSE YEA SAVE M E A TART"

A frenzied Jamil wrote, "Have you seen Kalim? He ran off after flight class without changing back into his uniform."

"SOUNDS LKE A U PROBLEM"

"Grim, ask the prefect if they've seen Kalim."

"WHATS INIT FOR ME?"

"Never mind."

"Mr. S's Mystery Shop News Alert! In Stock Now! Mystery Boxes are back for a limited time only! You don't want to miss out. Sales are limited to 50 units per day. Each bag contains at least 300 thaumarks' worth of goodies! Be fast, you never know what treasure awaits!" "This is an automated notification from Mr. S's Mystery Mailing List. If you don't want to receive notifications in the future, text UNSUBSCRIBE."

You had spent the last ten minutes explaining the rules of the game and what playing it entailed. You believed that your comrades were ready. Or at least, as ready as they'll ever be without experiencing the game for themselves.

As Lilia had put it, "just start and we'll figure out the rest, kheehee."

The old man was the first to move. With a nimble jump, he began floating up to the ceiling like a bubble.

"That kind of feels like cheating," you stated while fumbling up the back side of a leather armchair.

"But I'm not touching the floor," Lilia pointed out. He was right.

"Powerful and strategic! That's Lilia for you!" Sebek shouted. His excitement almost knocked over the candle burning atop the table he was on. He adjusted his footing until the old wood stopped creaking, leaving dusty footprints that he'd have to wipe up later.

Grim was busy digging his claws into your pants. He scrambled up your side while screeching, "hey, minion! Eyes forward, don't let me fall!"

Silver was hanging on to the bannister as casually as one might lay on the couch. He appeared unbothered, but your biceps hurt just watching. He pulled himself to the top of the railing near effortlessly. "Malleus," he said, "I believe you have to get to high ground."

"I am fine," Malleus responded. He was standing right where he started on the lounge carpet, with all the serenity of a powerful, peerless magician. He did not budge. "A bit of lava will not harm me."

"That's not how the game works!" Grim yelled. He managed to climb up your back and had his hind legs perched on your shoulders, paws in your hair.

Sebek was applauding. There was no side of Malleus that could disappoint him. The table legs must have been uneven, because it thunked from side to side with each clap.

"Come now, Malleus," Lilia chided. "Don't be a spoilsport."

Vil loomed over your bed. A single bedside lamp illuminated his figure from behind, bouncing off the sleek black fabric of his sleepwear and casting long shadows that made him even more menacing.

You gripped the pillowcase, exhausted. It was your first day volunteering as an extra yet the film studies club had no reservations running you ragged from dawn to dusk. You were sore all over. You had half a mind to ignore Vil and go back to sleep, but the world of showbiz is fast paced. He was already climbing onto the mattress while you thought of a response.

"Get up," he barked, peeling back the covers. "Imagine the state of your face in the morning if you fall asleep without taking off your makeup. I will not allow breakouts in front of my cameras."

You shivered in the sudden cold with an "ack," instinctively curling your body away from the angry upperclassman. Vil was having none of it. He rolled you back over with strength that betrayed his slender arms.

You don't know where he got a wet towel. He probably carried it in with him and you were too tired to notice. That wet towel was now on your face.

"I already took a shower," you protested, sputtering the words as you moved the towel off your mouth.

Vil sighed. He sounded an awful lot like Crewel whenever someone messed up a potion with detailed instructions. "Then why do you still look like an unwashed potato? Look, your mascara and eyeliner haven't budged, and there's concealer all over your face. It's rubbing off onto the pillow."

A firm hand grabbed your chin. Vil began blotting the offending spots with the towel, pressing it thoroughly against your skin. You tried to sit up and grab the towel for yourself but Vil was quick to pin your arms down with his legs. Beautiful, fast, and powerful. Truly a triple threat of the entertainment world.

"This smells funny," you mumbled, the words slurred as a wad of fabric got pressed into your cheek.

"It's micellar water," Vil explained, putting the fruity and vaguely artificial smelling liquid over your nose. "You're sorely ignorant if you think plain tap water will get the job done."

Vil had your face bare within minutes. You figured that enduring this temporary torture was better than getting an earful from him in the morning when it was too late. Your face felt raw.

"Thanks for the help, goodnight," you mumbled, ready to retire. Vil was still hovering above you. You were waiting for him to leave before closing your eyes. Vil did not leave.

"I am far from done with you," he tutted. "You haven't even started step one of any basic, decent skincare routine."

"Huh?"

While you stared with a dumbfounded expression, letting your confusion blatantly show, Vil rubbed his hands together. They were slathered in some kind of cream. Your expression morphed into one of horror when he gingerly set a dollop of it on your nose. The stuff was cold and slimy.

Ruggie himself looked to be in high spirits upon learning this, crossing his arms behind his head and taking long, energetic strides towards the cafeteria. You wondered how he knew.

You were coming back from an early, rushed lunch and returning to the headmage's office to help with whatever mundane tasks he felt like foisting on you. You licked your lips, savoring the last bit of flavor from lunch. The school's chefs were indeed talented. Their cuisine gave you enough motivation to deal with Crowley for at least another half hour.

Midday sunshine poured through the windows, accompanied by a soft breeze. Jack was turning the corner when you reached the hallway's end. The bottom of his tail started wagging and his ears perked up. "Grilled meat for lunch?" he asked.

You raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "How'd you know?"

"You smell like it."

Jack continued on his way, a little faster than before. You sniffed your hand. It smelled unremarkable. Beastmen must have really good senses.

"Bonjour, Trickster!" a good-natured fellow called out further down the hall. He had a bundle of notebooks in his hand and was emerging from the potions lab, goggles still over his eyes.

"Hey, Rook," you greeted. "Doing club work?"

"Oui! We are making room for the new supplies that Chevalier des Roses is currently picking up. Did you have a good lunch?"

"I did..." You started to feel self conscious. "Did the science club have an early lunch, too? I didn't see you guys in the cafeteria."

"Non," Rook responded. His hair fluttered when he shook his head. "I smell the delightful scent of grilled beef with peppercorns and garlic sauce on you. I hope they don't run out before we're finished!"

You nodded in barely concealed horror. "Hmm! Good to know." You took a step back and excused yourself, saying, "I have to go, Crowley's waiting for me. Good luck with your club work!"

Rook continued to smile pleasantly as you sped away. He said something in farewell, but you weren't paying attention. You navigated the maze of hallways with growing paranoia. An Ignihyde student glanced at you. Could he smell it, too? What about that Octavinelle student walking in front of you? Would the headmage complain about it and ask you to go fetch him some meat?

A door swung open to your left, someone's class was letting out. Another familiar face appeared. You ran towards it.

"Deuce!" you cried.

"Woah, what?" Deuce was caught off-guard and his eyes widened in confusion when you nearly crashed into him. He barely managed to stop you by the shoulder and asked, "What's going on?"

"Smell me!" you ordered.

Deuce was baffled. "What? Smell you? Why? Did you step in something gross?"

Other students were trying to get out and were pushing to get past, so the two of you moved off to the side. Safely situated against the wall, you shoved an arm in front of Deuce and repeated, "smell me! What's it smell like?"

Deuce made a face yet dutifully, apprehensively, gave your sleeve a sniff. "Smells like... the same detergent from Sam's that I use? I guess? I dunno, but you've got Grim's fur all over you."

"You don't smell food?" you confirmed, arm still very much in his face.

Deuce was weirded out. "No, but I'm starving. Did you have lunch yet?"

You exhaled a big, intense sigh of relief. Night Raven College students could be normal, after all.

"I did," you answered with a smile. "I just ate and it was delicious."

It was great to know you didn't smell of meat. It was such a relief that you pulled Deuce in for an awkward hug, fighting to get your arm around his shoulders while his brain tried to work out what was happening.

You were to help him learn about these trends. You did not particularly seem to be having fun on Magicam. If anything, you looked bored, like one might appear when they were sifting through old tomes in the library. Malleus tried to make sense of everything happening on your screen but it was just too foreign. He didn't see the appeal.

He leaned in and said to you, "Child of Man."

You stopped scrolling and tilted your phone down. "Yeah?"

"What is a Labubu?"

You stared into the eyes of the dragon prince. The dragon prince stared back, perplexed. One eyebrow was raised and the edges of his mouth curved ever so slightly downwards.

"This is the eighth time its come up on screen," he noted. "It looks to be a creature of some sort? An ugly pet?"

You tried to keep a straight face. It didn't work. The second time Malleus uttered the word "Labubu" with a serious, thought-provoking expression, you broke. Malleus moved back in surprise as you burst into laughter, nearly dropping your phone to hunch over in a fit of giggles.

It had been a late night. Your joint project was due in the morning and only the bare minimum of research had been done. The two of you made a beeline for Ramshackle dorm right after class, arms full of books from the library. You rushed to fit a week's worth of work into a handful of hours and then crashed out in the nearest bed before the ink had even finished drying on the last sentence of your assignment.

Your school uniforms were in disarray. Jackets and vests shrugged off and left to fall on the floor, shoes kicked off at the foot of the bed. Ink was smeared on the side of your hands and Epel would need to scrub the lace cuff of his sleeve come morning.

At some point you cracked your eyes open. It was still dark out. You were uncomfortable. Your shoulder was sticking out over the edge of the bed and you didn't have a pillow. Ramshackle beds weren't the most comfortable to begin with, and this position would just lead to pain in the morning.

Epel was still fast asleep, passed out cold beside you. The top buttons of his shirt had been undone. His long eyelashes were more noticeable with his eyes closed and one leg was flung over the side of the bed. You scooted over a smidge, hoping to fall back asleep the moment your body wasn't contorted around the edge of the mattress. You accidentally bumped into your classmate's arm.

"Think ya can git away with shovin' me 'round, huh?" he suddenly said with a snort. "Hmmph. Piss off..."

The sleeping Epel proceeded to kick you in the shin. Hard.

You jerked up and hugged your leg, exclaiming, "Epel! What the hell!"

A slow exhale, followed by a sharp inhale as the pain receptors in your leg fired off. That was going to bruise. Night Raven students sure don't know how to hold back when it comes to a fight.

You were too tired to behave properly. All of your brain power was spent on the project and it was too late for rational thought. You pushed Epel, rolling him away so you didn't have to look at his stupid pretty face.

That stupid pretty face then got a stupid evil smirk on it. He swung his arm through the air blindly, ready to brawl. "Hankerin' fer another go-round, are ya? I'd love ta see ya try."

"I'd like to try and go to sleep."

You slammed an old flat pillow over his head to knock some sense into him. He sat up swinging, yelling and lunging at you as his waking brain confused whatever twisted dream he was having with reality.

Epel grabbed your shoulders and put his knee over your legs. You winced as he pressed down where the bruise was forming. Your fingers wrapped around the corner of the pillowcase as he pushed you down against the bed, ready to chuck it once more if he tried anything violent. He looked ready to headbutt you, but paused.

"Huh? Prefect?" Epel's shoulders were still tense, ready for a fight, but his sleep-addled eyes looked confused. "What're you doing here?"

"Trying to sleep," you sighed. Exhaustion was evident in the tone of your voice. Even with you in his shadow, Epel could see dark circles under your eyes. Common sense was coming back.

"Oh!" He let go and rolled off of you. "I must have been having a weird dream after all that stress. Sorry about that, here."

Epel looked around, ushered you to come closer, and produced a threadbare sheet from his side of the bed as a peace offering. He pulled it up over the both of you while you dealt with the whiplash of his personality shifting so quickly.

"That's better, right?" he asked, settling back into a comfortable position. Your shoulders were touching his. It felt far more like a sleepover with your heads side by side.

You closed your eyes and tried to relax. It wasn't ideal, but it was an improvement. "Much better."

You're exhausted. Your shoulders ache and there's a slight ring in your ear after one of Grim's stray fireballs whizzed past it. You need to clean your P.E. uniform and revise a couple of paragraphs for that essay due to Trein at the end of the week before you can get some much-needed shuteye.

You trudge up the stone pathway to your home sweet home. The door still creaks loudly when you swing it open, and takes a bit of force to properly push it shut again, but all of these little habits are a part of your life now. You should be used to them.

Though, finding the headmage resting on the Ramshackle common room couch will always give you a bit of a fright.

His feathery coat is draped over a chair on which his hat is resting. His beaked mask points into the air as he stares vacantly up at the ceiling. There's a light tap-tapping sound as his hands fidget over his chest and his gold claw rings clink against each other. When he's on his back on a dusty old sofa, you can hardly believe Crowley is the dignified headmaster of such a prestigious arcane college.

"Ah, welcome back," he says. He sounds impatient and almost as exhausted as you are. "Part of your ceiling is cracking. Look, right there. It might cause issues if you leave it like that."

You follow the direction of the headmage's finger. Indeed, there is a hairline crack in the ceiling. Not unusual, given the building's age.

"Can you send someone to fix it?" you ask.

"Me? Oh, no! Can't you tell? I have my hands full as it is." Crowley lowers his arm to massage his temple, brushing sleek black hair away from his forehead. "The kitchen ghosts want to upgrade the ovens, despite our current ones working fine! One of Sam's shipments got lost and Vargas can't run his classes this week without it, so the curriculum needs adjusting. I'm so busy with the students causing problems and these issues constantly popping up. I just thought I'd point out your ceiling so that you can find a solution, because I'm generous like that."

The room goes eerily quiet after Crowley's rant. You're not too sure what to say, other than a half-hearted, sarcastic, "thanks."

You find a really big stick. It's a nice stick. You swish it around in the dirt for a bit before showing it off to Jack. He admires it for a second. He asks to hold it. You proudly give it to him. "Yeah, this is a nice stick," he agrees.

First, you tripped over Silver on your way to class. The two of you were equally apologetic about the situation. You received extra homework after Cater tagged you in a bunch of photos, causing your phone to go off during class. You had to run back to the dorm after Epel gave you a crate full of fresh apples, but you were chased by the twins who wouldn't shut up about Azul's exciting new business venture. They said they'd go away for 25 thaumarks apiece, but you didn't have that much cash on you. Once back in the school building, Vil made a passing comment about your disheveled appearance and tightened your necktie an uncomfortable amount.

You just wanted a moment to catch your breath and rest your mind. Hopefully the library would provide solace. At that time of day, most students were there to keep their heads down and get homework done. One lone figure, hunched over a table copying down recipes, was a sight for sore eyes.

"Treeeey!"

You whispered as you approached so as not to scare the upperclassman. He pushed his glasses up, then greeted you with a bright smile and cordial wave. The stack of recipe books were pushed aside and he invited you to sit.

"I am so glad to see you. You're, like, the most normal guy on this campus," you told him. You pulled out a chair and set your bag on the ground. If you were with somebody respectable like the Heartslabyul vice housewarden, others were less likely to show up and be a bother.

Trey snickered. "Really? Uh, thanks, I guess? I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is!" you insisted. "The highest of compliments!"

Trey lightly rolled his eyes with another smile and continued writing. He was the ideal upperclassman. You peeked at his paper. It was about some kind of wild berry pie you'd never heard of. Looked complex. He was copying the information down word for word from a new-looking cookbook, which you also leaned over to nosily examine.

"You've got a typo in step six," you pointed out. "Boil for five hours, not five minutes."

Trey double-checked, scanning his notes and then the original recipe. "Nice catch! Can you pass me an eraser? It's in my pencil case."

The case had been moved when you sat down, so naturally you had no problem retrieving it. You picked up the blue cloth pouch. It was pretty hefty for a pencil case.

"Ah, actually it's the red one," Trey said, "not the-"

Inside the blue pouch was a half dozen toothbrushes. A tongue scraper, two flavors of toothpaste, a dental mirror, and a bag of little tooth flossers. It smelled minty.

"That's my emergency kit," he explained, adjusting his glasses to hide the bashful tint around his ears. "Feel free to take a brush if you need one. I, uh, keep the pencils and pens in the red case, if you would be so kind."

You hobbled into class with bleary vision, wanting nothing more than to go right back to Ramshackle and fall asleep.

"Dang, look at those dark circles!" Ace whistled in admiration. "What kept you up all night?"

"Drums," you said plainly. You tried to throw your bookbag onto the lecture hall table. It slid across the surface and fell to the ground on the other side of the table. You didn't care.

Ace was kind enough to grab it for you despite his overflowing curiosity. "Drums? What's that mean?"

You took a deep breath. You needed oxygen in your brain. "It means someone gave Grim a miniature drum set and he played it all night."

"Ooooh." The two Heartslabyul students gawked in unison.

"That does sound awful," Deuce remarked. "Any idea who?"

"No." You grunted through gritted teeth and clenched your fist. "But when I find them..."

Several classrooms over, Kalim sneezed over his cauldron. He managed to turn at the last second and avoided contaminating the potion within.

"Ah! Is someone badmouthing me?" he mused. "I heard you sneeze when people talk behind your back."

"Don't be ridiculous." Jamil was ready with a fresh pocket tissue that he thrust towards Kalim. "I told you to put the gold dust in more carefully. Half of it wound up in the air, and you probably inhaled it."

He's on his phone, and his tablet, playing a game on one and scrolling socials on the other while trying not to think about what you're doing to his head. It feels nice, if a bit ticklish and very unfamiliar, to have someone so close.

You pretend not to notice when Idia steals peeks at your reflection in the dark screen edges. He does it out of anxiety more than anything. You begin tying things in place where you want them. A ponytail or two could suit him well, you think. He's in his own little otaku world and surely won't mind.

Except, they just announced the new Herculean Heroes game figure is limited to 50 sales. It can only be obtained via lottery, one entry per person. When Idia read that, his hair erupted into a violent flaming red mess.

It was just for a second. Just when he leaned forward and gasped and felt desperation run through his veins at potentially missing out on such a pristine piece of merch.

"Sebek," Malleus warned, "that is enough."

"Yo, it's Hornton, the dudest of bros. Hails from Bro-ar Valley. Probably has a tail, but he's hiding it and won't show me. Mr. Haunts-my-garden-in-the-middle-of-the-night. I mistook a squirrel for you the other day."