Hit the Books
He doesn’t know how he got here.
Now, Valter can assume this is the consequence of the mirror’s workings—that, upon entry, each of the 15 within his group had been shunted into this facsimile of a school and made to act within its walls—but that doesn’t answer why the Coronet’s prison had taken this form, or what sort of fantasy had inspired its present incarnation.
(And weren’t these things ridiculously old? What miserable old sap came up with this to jail the Coronet however long ago?)
The thoughts churn around his skull as he makes sense of all he is seeing and hearing—and it is in this contemplation that he crashes into two others (one vaguely familiar and the other, oddly, with eyes), and perhaps he ought to do a better job remembering that he is presently 15 years old.
He blinks up at them.
“ Speak for yourself, ” he seethes, standing up and staring—what was his name? Lonato?—dead in the face. “ You’re the one who bumped into me. ”
They are, however, unfortunately interrupted by their third, rather uninvited guest—a soft-looking boy who responds with peace over violence:
"Woah, woah! No need to start a fight, you two." The boy starts to stack books before he rises to meet them both where they stand. "Sorry about Lonato. He's uh... well, he's not great at first impressions, let's say. But who is?" He holds the books out to Valter. "Your name's Valter, right? You're not very popular around here, but you have a... je nais se quois to you, so I've been meaning to chat with you sometime. See if everybody else is just being mean to you unfairly, y'know?" He beams. "My name's Ren. Your local info broker. Getting to know people is my hobby, heh."
“ …A what? ” (Actually, nevermind. This was unimportant.) “ I see, ” he corrects, primarily because an information broker was a convenient kind of individual to have around. Especially if this one could provide some information on what’s going on here and how we might find the Coronet.
If he even knew that sort of information, considering he, like everyone else, appeared to be a child. (It was worth figuring out at least, Valter supposes.)
“ Good to meet you, ” he vaguely replies before turning his attention back to Lonato—who has, likewise, pointed his attention at Valter, it seems. The goth provides a stare of his own, and Valter was willing to contest if that was the idea.
“ Do you want something? ” (Harsh, unyielding, and completely missing the question that he was being asked.)
"Yes... there was."
Idiot. How do you miss the obvious?!
"I was wanting to talk to you... in private, should the opportunity arrive."
How was he supposed to do that, sans pulling Valter away from the small boy scout tied to his own side? There was a way. There had to be - he just didn't see it being here and now.
"But I doubt that window should arrive, at this rate, so I should ensure you make it to class instead. I wouldn't want you to be held up too much, after all."
He feels a gaze on his side, and places a hand on his other one, a small smirk forming on his face as he turns to face Ren.
"What? I can make sure he does better with his attendance than I ever have, can't I?"
"Huh! So you WILL use that soft heart of yours on people besides me!" Ren exclaims in part-shock, part glee. "Proud of you, dude. But that's fine by me. Valter and I share a homeroom actually, so I need to head that way anyway."
"My heart is not as iron as I make it seem. Though I know you already know that personally."
And with that, he hands over the books he held in his grasp to Valter, before, with a small pressure on the other boy's hand, whispers into his ear;
"Don't. Be. Stupid."
And with that, he leans back, acting as if he hadn't said a word.
