First Week - Trein
You– Ace – Trein – ???
It was the end of the first day of school when Mozus Trein joined his fellow faculty in the annual start-of-term meeting. The staff lounge was its usual blend of simmering egos and polite hostility, teacups clinking while grievances were aired under the thin veneer of professionalism.
It didn't take long for the conversation to turn toward this year’s most noteworthy freshman.
Your name surfaced alongside a collective scowl.
Vargas was the only one with anything resembling praise. The coach leaned forward in his chair, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he spoke at length about your dedication to physical training, your stamina, and, rather baffling, your ideas for alternative conditioning exercises.
“Outstanding drive!” Vargas boomed. “Sharp instincts too. The kid's got real talent!"
The praise was quickly drowned out.
Other instructors complained of your apparent distraction in class, your wandering attention, your habit of staring into space as though listening to something no one else could hear. Crewel, in particular, is relentless. He sniffed disdainfully as he catalogued each of your perceived failings, from the ill-fitted uniform to the mismatched accessories.
“It’s as though the child didn’t even bother collecting a proper uniform,” Crewel said coolly, adjusting his gloves. “Just threw on whatever rags were left behind when Ramshackle was shuttered.”
Then Dire Crowley spoke.
“Oh, I thought it was quite resourceful actually!” the headmaster chirped. “It’s amazing how much was left behind when that dorm was sealed. Positively overflowing with history! I’m surprised she’s managed to get so much use out of it.”
Theres a beat of silence. Trein felt his blood pressure spike.
Crewel spoke with a deceptively calm voice. “Headmaster,” he said, smiling without warmth, “are you implying that the reason Yuu is going around in uniforms that are centuries out of date is because you failed to provide any alternative?”
At least Crowley has enough sense to recognize the danger he'd just brought upon himself. “Ah, well, I wouldn't put it like that. Night Raven was founded on principles of self-sufficiency after all…”
“As the headmaster of this institution,” Trein interrupts, “it is your responsibility to ensure incoming students are equipped with basic necessities and informed of the resources available to her as a student.”
His eyes narrowed. “Does she even know that Night Raven College provides its students with their first set of uniforms?”
Crowley wilted under the scrutiny. “The circumstances around Miss Yuu’s enrollment are highly irregular” he protests weakly. “My teacher’s intuition tells me that with a little extra independence–”
“–Not neglect,” Trein snapped, “nor institutional embarrassment. Your sloppiness reflected poorly on the rest of us, Crowley.”
He inhaled, steadying himself. For all that the headmaster has managed to successfully preside over a school dominated by humans, there were moments, far too many, when his inhuman perspective caused needless complications.
Trein will easily admit that the headmaster's hands-off approach when handling NRC’s students is usually well suited with fostering the school's ideals. Unlike RSA which coddles its students, NRC believes in a more hands off, sink-or-swim approach to education. Society thrives when dark-hearts learn to overcome hardships and create their own opportunities. This, combined with the old crow’s skills with politicking has been a great boon to the university.
However, none of this absolves the administration of its obligations. Dire has had centuries to adapt, and Trien has never been one to allow excuses for failure.
“It is imperative,” he continued, “that our students are provided with the most up-to-date texts and equipment available. Education cannot proceed if the foundation is unsound.”
Sam chuckles good naturedly, “I can get the little imp hooked up with their starter supplies. We’ll just charge it to the headmaster’s account."
Of course Crowley rushes to defend his budget. “That seems rather hasty–”
“Thank you, Sam,” Trein speaks over the crow, "it is our duty to ensure all students are equipped at the start of their education, lest we allow Night Raven to be found wanting compared to… other academies."
Specifically Royal Swords, is left unsaid but heard by everyone.
Crewel, either feeling helpful but more likely out of offence at your current wardrobe, offers to tailor a modernized female uniform. “I recall finding some references to the uniforms used when Night Raven was a co-ed school.” He says thoughtfully “I imagine they're all rather archaic, but should provide an adequate base for me to start with.”
This support, they all agree, extended only to your initial provisions. Should you fail to maintain them, finding replacements will be entirely up to you. Night Raven provides opportunity, but will not shield students from the consequences of their choices. That was the principle upon which the school prided itself.
The meeting comes to a close as Trein continues to lecture Crowley on the importance of keeping the rest of the administration informed, and how a student's unique circumstances do not absolve the headmaster of his obligations.
…
The results are immediate.
Your appearance and demeanor shift noticeably over the following days. The ragged uniform and battered knapsack vanished, replaced by a more modernized uniform and a sleek backpack, courtesy of Crewel and Sam respectively.
From the waist up, your attire mirrored the male uniform closely, though the cut was adjusted for a feminine frame. Below, a pleated black skirt with gold trim replaced the slacks, paired with dark grey stockings and polished loafers. The Ramshackle armband, in a muted grey, is neatly secured on your sleeve. Sam’s contribution is equally evident in the backpack now slung over your shoulder, lighter than it looks and far more durable than its sleek exterior suggests, all on the headmaster’s tab.
Regarding your behavior, Lucius notices the change before Trein consciously does. The cat watches you with narrowed eyes from his perch atop the lectern, tail flicking thoughtfully as you enter the classroom.
You still drifted at times during lectures. Your gaze would unfocus, attention slipping somewhere just beyond the classroom walls. But when addressed directly, you respond without hesitation. Your answers are usually accurate to the textbook, though often lacking in context that most are expected to have learned prior to attending NRC.
At least you try to make up for this and usually stay behind after class to ask more questions. Usually regarding concepts most students absorb in childhood, civic structures, historical events, social hierarchies, you approach it all as completely new material.
This would be unusual on its own but you don't just linger to ask questions. During the conversations you will move around the classroom, straightening chairs, collecting discarded papers, and otherwise restoring order to the room.
At first Trein assumes it was just an attempt to ingratiate herself to him. Such behavior is common among first-years who believe deference might substitute for effort.They eventually stop once he's made it clear that the only thing he cares about is consistent academic performance.When the behavior persists into the following week, he addresses it.
“What do you expect to come from this?” he asks, tone neutral.
You blink, faintly startled by the question. “Isn’t this normal?” you reply. “Back in grade school we’re taught to clean the classroom together after lessons. I guess I just got used to tidying up. Don’t you all have something similar?”
“No,” He answers with a raised eyebrow, “we do not.”
At that moment, Grim chooses to voice his displeasure.
“This is dumb!” the creature snaps, sprawling across a chair you’d just straightened. “Why d’we gotta stay late? Class is over!”
You turn toward him, irritation briefly breaking through your composure. “It’s only a few minutes,” you say, already moving the chair back into place. “And it's not difficult. If more people helped, it’s done faster.”
Grim grumbles, but Trein observes the exchange closely. Your tone isn't exactly scolding but there's a bit of annoyance. It carries the expectation that participation is assumed.
As a scholar of history and societal studies Trein finds his interest sharpening.
Your home (town, village, enclave, the precise terminology remains unclear) most likely relies on structured communal habits to regulate behavior. Perhaps your schools are tasked with social conditioning as well as education.
Trein can see the logic, appreciate it even. He has long believed that when discipline is instilled early, dark-hearts are better equipped to regulate their impulses without constant external pressure.
Of course, not everyone agrees with such methods.
While Trein raised his daughters with the same care that he held for his darling wife, he knows that not everyone shares this mindset. Some guardians attempt to use their darling’s attachment to their children as emotional leverage. Others treat children as extensions of their darling rather than individuals, molding them to serve adult needs rather than preparing them for independence. Still others swing in the opposite direction, neglecting dark-hearted children entirely under the guise of “letting them grow strong.” Personally, Trein believes such arguments are just lazy justifications for poor childrearing.
Clearly a more structured upbringing has worked on you, if your current behavior is anything to go by. Unlike the rest of your peers with their constant posturing, you act as though cooperation is the default state rather than something to be negotiated. You show no interest in asserting dominance, nor any awareness that such displays are expected. Trein finds this deeply peculiar; even students of Royal Swords Academy participate in their own hierarchies, however subtle and politely framed.
Lucius yawns in Trein’s arms and settles in the professor's arms for a light doze.
Trein left the room thoughtful. Habits, he knew, are often more revealing than words. Yours suggested a background shaped by communal responsibility rather than individual ambition, a framework that would inevitably surface in other behaviors, subtle but persistent, as you continued to navigate an institution built to promote competition before cooperation.
…
Later in the week, Trein encounters Crewel while heading toward Foothill Town. The two walk together in companionable silence for a time, discussing administrative matters and the usual early-term disturbances, until Crewel decides to bring up the school's newest irregular student.
“It seems our intervention wasn’t entirely wasted,” Crewel said, tone clipped. “She's improved, markedly so. That first day, I feared we were dealing with an especially unrefined mutt, but proper supplies and a real uniform appear to have been what was needed.”
“I’ve noticed similar progress,” Trein replies. ““She remains after nearly every lecture, to request additional references, clarification, or recommendations for independent study.”
Crewel’s lips quirk into a faint smirk. “If only the other problem pups were so cooperative."
Trein regards him sidelong. Despite the potion master's seeming complement, the two had known each other long enough for the elder to recognize something in his tone.
“Theres still something you're dissatisfied with.”
Crewel hums. “She’s withdrawn during Capture and Care,” he admits. “And it’s not the typical boredom I have to put up with when covering the introductory material.”
“Is that so?”
“In Alchemy she engages readily with the material,” Crewel says, “in Capture and Care she acts like an inattentive student, withdrawn and scared to be called upon. It's as though she hasn’t prepared at all.”
“And yet,” he adds, irritation creeping into his tone, “when pressed, she provides correct answers. Not terribly detailed perhaps, but accurate. It's the inconsistency that troubles me.”
“If this behavior were limited to Alchemy, I could dismiss it as selective interest,” Crewel says. “But every other instructor reports steady engagement. Capture and Care is the sole exception.”
Trein thinks back to his past interactions with you. In his own class you've demonstrated steady progress. Indeed, you're practically a model student. You take notes diligently, request supplementary texts when needed, and linger after class to ask questions.
“There are certainly areas where her foreign origins are evident,” Trein says.
Trein recalls the nature of your inquiries. You ask for definitions most students take for granted, heart-alignment classifications beyond the most basic dichotomy, the historical rationale behind light-heart protection statutes, the distinction between custodial guardianship and voluntary custody.
You struggle most with the legal aspects of it all. Dark-heart autonomy laws, international accords governing attachment conduct, and the efforts made over the last century to standardize childcare across borders.
These are hardly obscure topics. In fact, nearly all of your questions are about things that most students would have absorbed in childhood. Your ignorance would be more irritating if not for your initiative.
He’s even observed you attempting to assist the dire beast and those two Heartslabyul first-years. Grim makes some sense, the headmaster informed the staff about your agreement to take responsibility for the little beast.
But the other two boys? That’s more curious. Most NRC students are still jockeying for position within their dorms, testing limits, establishing dominance through conflict. Yet you approach them without caution, and more unusually still, they respond without resistance.
Just how far have your people diverged from the rest of Twisted Wonderland for you to be like this?
Despite the potential breach of professionalism, Trein can't help but wish to study you more closely.
After the final class of the week, he finds you restoring order to the classroom once again. The two of you maintain a polite chat for a pit, only interrupted by your direbeasts complaints. It's while you're moving the last chairs into its rightful place that he broaches the subject.
“You’ve shown notable improvement since your first day,” he says. “Not only in my course, but according to several of your instructors.”
You flush faintly at the praise, mumbling a quiet thanks. Grim, in contrast, puffs up visibly, preening as though the compliment were his own.
“And how are you finding the rest of the curriculum?” Trein continues. “Are you adjusting adequately?”
You hesitate.
“Most classes are fine,” you say carefully. “There are just a couple that are… difficult.”
“In what way?”
“Well,” you begin, searching for the right words, “we don’t really have versions of some subjects where I come from. So I don’t always have a frame of reference.”
“Oh?” Trein says, curiosity sharpening his tone.
“Yeah. And there’s one, Capture and Care, it’s…” You trail off.
Trein waits in silence as you search for the right words.
“Before Night Raven, I had some… bad experiences,” you say quietly. “Followed by a really big failure. I’m mostly working through it, but C&C just feels like it was made to rub salt in the wound.”
This time when you fall silent Trein simply nods and makes no move to press further. Some silences can be invitations, but others are clear boundaries. This is clearly the latter.
Still, as you gather your things and leave, his thoughts linger.
And while he accepts your reluctance, professional curiosity, and something almost like concern, tells him this matter is far from settled.
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You– Ace – Trein – ???
Authors note:
Honestly, I don't like cannon Crowley. As the headmaster it’s on him to help the child NRC’s ancient artifact kidnapped. He should be helping Yuu set up a legal identity and savings and other stuff like that. Instead he chooses to be criminally negligent and regularly blackmails the pc by threatening to withhold basic living necessities. In this AU he's still negligent, but it's more socially acceptable, at least by twst standards. Unlike in canon he will eventually care about your health and well-being. Sort of.