More than just "the school's girl" - Part 4
SERIES SUMMARY: A series of unfortunate events in which you have to prove that you are more than just the "fragile gender", more than just the only woman in an all-boys school; and incidentally, put certain men who can't keep their mouths shut in their place.
CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Riddle Rosehearts / Azul Ashengrotto / Kalim Al-Asim / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia ft. Divus Crewel, Ruggie Bucchi.
WARNING: light misogyny, injuries. WORD COUNT: 7.6K
COMMENTS: I think there's going to be a fifth part, and that's when things are going to start getting more…juicy, iykwim. We'll interact with all the dorms!!
Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here
Tag list: @innocent-and-angelic @fandomlover011 @rasherawr @asakiyu @mysticcyan @ddurandals @aurorab-0-realis @moxxiethenarrator @crookedlawyerpastadonkey @eevee-133 @calcifiedunderland @qualityrabbitsoup @lilcupoftea @quirkyhero @teasfandomlibrary @nicos-sinning-corner @mxvoid26 @nico-nova @mirandatera @fruitofdiscord @arunalora @sleepcallsme @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @yasminniejoon @mousedit @katzline @adorbezti @wuturlookingat @noblognamepleasee @theleftovere @queenkaite44679 @mysticmoonhashira @sofszz @ladydoe8 @citrine-everhart @itsleleya @joeywiththeswag @echoversit @tanspostsblog @sunsethw4 @sallikesdillpickles
The training field was buzzing with anticipation.
Would Leona lift you properly and carry you the way he should… or would he just sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes? Would he be gentle, or would he treat you like dead weight, like an object, just another extension of the physical limits he had been pushing you through all training long?
There was only one way to find out.
He picked you up with an ease that made you look ridiculous, placing you in a position where you were nothing more than a ragdoll… a very bruised, completely wrecked ragdoll. For a single second, your body tensed as you felt his hands slide under your thighs and across your back, but exhaustion won, and you went slack.
You really did look like a ragdoll.
“This is humiliating” You glanced over his shoulder, catching the Magift team giving thumbs up, and you hesitated, unsure whether they were meant for you or for their captain as he turned his back on them.
“You’re allowed to rest, y’know?” He adjusted his grip, making you jolt slightly and yelp as you were lifted into the air again. Without looking at you, he settled you against his chest, your hand gripping the collar of his shirt as that dizzying rush rang in your ears.
“You did that on purpose” You shot him a glare, earning nothing but an amused huff before he started walking.
Your body swayed from side to side, the weight of the training already taking its toll; you could barely keep yourself upright in his arms. At one point, your head bounced and almost smacked into his shoulder, but you caught yourself at the last second; the last thing you needed was for everyone to see you completely defeated, like some princess being carried around by her so-called prince charming. No. That was not happening.
With sheer stubbornness and a frankly concerning amount of willpower, you kept your gaze forward—well, backward, really—still looking at the field and the stands… and the dozens of students holding up their phones, recording the whole thing.
“Ah, fuck…” you muttered, shrinking behind his body, trying to stay out of the center of their cameras.
“Hm?”
“They’re recording on their phones” You lifted your head, giving him the most pitiful, sheep-like expression you had managed to pull off to date, hoping he would do something. He clicked his tongue, and from your angle below, you saw his ears flick to the sides, irritated. “Can’t you say something to them?”
Bold words, considering your current state. You had already demanded special training, held your ground against his superiority-filled remarks, and now you wanted him to deal with the mess you yourself had stirred up. You wanted to avoid the embarrassment of being filmed getting carried bridal-style in Leona’s arms? Fine.
You were about to have a lot more to worry about… because Leona let go of you for a moment, tossing you upward, your body floating in the air again, your hair whipping into ridiculous waves in every direction, including straight into your mouth when you complained again. When he caught you, this time by the waist, your stomach landed squarely over his shoulder.
Now you were definitely being carried like a sack of potatoes.
Your forehead bumped against his back, and the blood rushed straight to your head in your new position. You spat out strands of hair, grabbing onto whatever you could while your vision and hearing adjusted to the new angle. You planted both hands on his back and pushed yourself up.
“Leona! I demand you stop carrying me like this!” You smacked his back lightly with your palm.
“Big words for someone who falls apart on her own” He adjusted you again, now holding you up with a single hand, making a point of showing he could carry you with one arm alone.
How humiliating
And of course, everyone was still recording, though now they were farther away, just tiny dots in the stands. At least the public humiliation was about to end.
“LEONA, YOU CAN’T CARRY HER LIKE THAT!!”
And just like that, the usual circus was about to start, courtesy of Riddle’s shouting.
Kalim was the closest to the two of you, practically bouncing as he ran past the Savanaclaw students and the training team like he was in a race. Vargas followed his movement with his eyes, chuckling under his breath; he shook his head at the white-haired boy’s antics and went back to the team.
Idia’s floating tablet trailed not far behind, and behind the two of them, the other four walked briskly, their faces showing clear concern...except for Malleus, who moved in that same ethereal way he always did, unhurried. Wherever you and Leona were headed, he would get there in the blink of an eye; he was only walking because he wanted to see how this whole mess would play out.
“I already am,” Leona said, ignoring the fact that the others were catching up, and just to emphasize your already embarrassing situation, he bounced you up and down, making you lose your balance and slam your stomach against his shoulder again.
“Leona!!” You pushed yourself up again and shouted near his ear. He barely tilted his head to the side, only mildly affected by the noise.
“That was amazing!!” Kalim exclaimed, now walking behind you, his ruby eyes shining with excitement. “The way you jumped, a-a-and flew—even the way you hit the ground, it was like art!” He moved his hands wildly, straight lines, curves, exaggerated gestures, trying to mimic your movements on the broom.
He was definitely exaggerating, probably completely absorbed in his own retelling of what had been the most intense and nerve-wracking minutes of your life. You rested your elbow on Leona’s shoulder, pressing the bone right into the junction between his shoulder and neck, hoping it would annoy the hell out of him. You propped your head up on your hand, letting your cheek squish further and further as you watched Kalim narrate.
“You had that look of determination on your face! I—I don’t even know how to explain it” He brought both hands up in front of him, fists clenched, visibly trembling from the rush of emotions coursing through him; it was like watching a kid excited over a brand-new toy. “Amazing, truly amazing!”
“There was nothing amazing about that!” Riddle shouted as he finally caught up. “You nearly got yourself killed more than three times, and I’m quite certain you have some kind of internal injury!”
Sevens, how dramatic.
“For the aesthetic” You brushed your hair aside with your free hand, letting the wind play along like a paid actor to add a bit of drama to your comment. Unfortunately, your joke did absolutely nothing for the redhead.
Riddle was completely beside himself, his face flushed that signature red, turning corner after corner as Leona kept carrying you through the halls of Savanaclaw, drawing even more furtive glances from residents who hadn’t gone to watch the training. Some of them even had the decency, or rather, the absolute lack of manners, to point at you while whispering among themselves.
“It’s not funny!” Kalim had to turn his head away at the shout, scratching his ear. “You could’ve broken something”
You pouted, tilting your head even further against your hand, trying to feel every sore muscle and aching part of your body. “Well, I don’t feel like anything’s broken” You rolled your neck a couple of times, checking if your head was still properly attached to your body; a crack sounded, and miraculously, the area felt lighter.
Kalim reacted with a guttural noise at the crack, shrinking in on himself, shoulders and head curling inward, teeth clenched as he leaned all the way back. Riddle seemed to pale on the spot, as if he had just watched your life flash before his eyes, fully expecting you to collapse right then and there.
“Oi! Don’t do that” Leona also let out a low sound when he heard your neck crack, finally turning his head to look back at you.
Vil sighed, followed behind by Azul and Malleus, all of them crossing the Savanaclaw mirror and heading toward the infirmary. “This girl is more stubborn than I thought.”
“Hey! I heard that” You pointed at him.
Vil met your gaze from below, not looking threatened in the slightest. “That was the intention”
Idia’s tablet made a small error sound, letting out a brief grumble before continuing to float along. “This is a canon event, tier overlord” The device floated so enthusiastically it nearly smacked into your face. You pushed it aside with your hand and let it keep rambling whatever nonsense it was spouting.
The tablet drifted back into place, right next to Azul but slightly behind his shoulder, the “only sound” screen giving a small click before going silent, as if the person on the other end had grown tired of talking for the moment.
Azul walked with purpose, hands behind his back, watching you as if he were mentally drafting his next contract. “If you’re going to keep up these… let’s say, rather unproductive habits for your physical well-being…” You were already bracing yourself for his next remark. “Then perhaps it would be beneficial for you to acquire proper equipment.”
“Azul…” You looked at him, completely deflated.
“Yes, dear?” Azul’s expression was the same one he had worn when attempting to discuss female health in that ill-fated meeting… and it was the same expression you were about to shatter all over again.
“If you’re trying to—”
Leona cut you off mid-sentence, turning around with ease, your head spinning just as fast. Now you were facing the opposite direction, dizzy, your hair hanging down.
“She has the proper equipment” He walked backward with impressive agility. “She just needs to learn how to keep her ass on the broom”
You planted both hands on his other shoulder, pulling strength from who knows where, your palms irritated and burning against the fabric. “Can you not do that?!”
And Leona, being Leona, ignored you completely. He turned again, making you drop back over his shoulder, your stomach landing hard while your head bounced as your forehead knocked against his back once more.
“You fuckin’ bastard! You did that on purpose!” you snapped, rubbing your forehead.
You glared daggers at the back of his head. At some point, you weren’t even sure where the idea came from, maybe all the adrenaline had finally drained out of your system, leaving behind nothing but bad decisions and complaints about the bruises scattered across your body...but you went for it anyway. You lifted your leg, just barely, almost imperceptibly, ready to kick him in the stomach or abdomen, wherever you could land it first. But you should have considered that Leona was in a far better physical and perceptive state than you; the moment he felt your leg move, he grabbed it without hesitation.
“If you’ve got enough energy to try and hit me…” He pinched your leg through the fabric, making you yelp. “Then you’ve got enough energy to walk”
Defeated, you slumped over his shoulder, your arms hanging limply down his body, swaying with that steady, methodical motion as they continued through the castle hallways.
“Want me to tie your hair?” Kalim leaned in, his face very close to yours.
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him through the curtain of tangled hair. “That would be great, Kalim, thanks”
Kalim got to work as you all kept moving—well, more accurately, as Leona kept striding forward like a giant from your current position on his shoulder. His fingers moved carefully through your hair, occasionally catching on knots, while Vil acted as a second-in-command, instructing Kalim on how to run his fingers through it without making a complete mess out of the “bird’s nest”. The goal wasn’t anything elaborate, just gathering all the rebellious strands into a high bun, loosely secured with a hair tie Vil provided.
Leona pushed open the infirmary doors with his opposite shoulder; the impact made you bounce, but he held you just as firmly as he had the entire way. The journey was over, you weren’t about to fall right at the infirmary entrance.
“Are you putting me down now?” you asked, turning your head slightly to look at the beds. The place was completely empty, what a miracle. That meant silence, peace, quiet.
“Nah.” Simple, flat, and he kept walking down the aisle, ignoring the first rows of beds on either side.
“Why?! I can pick the bed”
“Considering your ‘acrobatics,’ dear potato,” Vil commented as he stepped into the infirmary, adjusting the pocket of his trousers where he had retrieved the hair tie, “I imagine he doesn’t want you touching the floor if he can help it” He crossed his arms, watching as you were still being carried the same way a predator hauls off fresh prey.
Though, to be fair, Vil would have done exactly the same. Maybe he didn’t wear his concern as openly as Riddle did, but he had been worried throughout the entire training. The only difference was that he would have handled it with more grace, while also insulting you for wrinkling his uniform.
“Awwww” You blatantly ignored his comment about your acrobatics, far more interested in bothering the lion. “Did you go soft on me?” you asked in a soft, princess-like voice, batting your lashes quickly, but your smile was anything but sweet, and far from innocent.
Leona dropped you onto a bed, and you landed with very little, almost no-grace, letting out a small uff as your body hit the semi-soft white sheets. There went your chances of continuing to annoy him.
“Okay, point taken,” you muttered heavily, clutching your stomach at the new dull ache in your back.
“Seriously, you’re a complete mess” You shot Azul a look that could kill. Even if he was right, you weren’t about to admit it in front of everyone. Tomorrow would frame today’s events in its own way once the whole school found out.
And you refused to be seen as the fragile prefect who almost broke every bone just from falling off a broom a couple of times she barely knew how to handle. Give yourself some credit—everyone had to learn how to fly one of those things at some point. Some of them probably started as kids and fell plenty of times too; the only difference was that they didn’t have anyone around to throw it back in their faces.
“Try not to push your body anymore, you’ve already proven your worth more than enough.” Malleus’s calm voice filled the room as he stood at the foot of the bed. Even with you half-sitting, the horned figure was imposing, even if he was only looking at you, searching for any sign of discomfort.
“What she needs is to keep both feet on the ground from now on!” Riddle crossed his arms, visibly irritated and on the verge of exploding to astronomical levels. He was practically vibrating, looking like he might throw his arms up at any second.
“What she needs is for ya to stop yellin'” Leona leaned against the wall, arms crossed as well, his tail thumping against the floor once, twice.
“Don’t defend her!” Ah, it looked like steam was about to come out of both of Riddle’s ears. Kalim took a few steps toward your bed, though you weren’t sure if it was to put some distance between himself and the shouting or to shield you from it. Either way, Kalim was now at your left side, leaving Leona on your right.
You slowly raised your hand, glancing from one side of the bed to the other, both sides now filled with all the dorm leaders, forming an intimate circle with you in the middle. “Um… I’m right here, you know?”
“Be quiet!!” Riddle shouted at you. You froze, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t even form a single word.
“Shhh” Vil hushed you, placing a finger against his lips.
That did it.
“DON’T YOU SHUSH ME!!!” Part of your body leaned forward, ignoring the pain in your hip, though you still gritted your teeth as you moved. “And shhh your cheap ass makeup kit!” You made a dismissive motion with your hand, as if trying to wave him right out of the room.
Vil’s face twisted, even more so when Leona let out a snort that turned into a mocking laugh; he brought a hand to his chest, utterly offended. “EXCUSE ME!?”
“I DEMAND SILENCE!!”
Several souls left multiple bodies at once.
Crewel’s cold, elegant, and crisp voice cut clean through the room, slicing the argument short. Seven heads, and Idia’s tablet, snapped toward the door, where Crewel stood alongside the nurse. The latter looked like a man who had endured far too many hormonal teenagers yelling all day, for far too many years; he walked off to the other side, avoiding stepping into the conflict altogether.
Crewel, on the other hand, walked straight toward your bed, the last one in the row, beneath a large window that let the late afternoon light spill in, putting you directly under it so your bruises could be seen clearly. His expression carried traces of both a concerned professor and a furious fashion critic spotting wrinkles on a freshly pressed garment.
He pulled his pointer out of his coat pocket, flicking it open with a movement that nearly smacked Leona in the face, and without a word, placed it under your chin, examining your injuries with such surgical precision that even the nurse seemed to wonder what he was still doing here.
“Tangled hair tied into a dreadful bun, bruise on the neck, cut on the cheek, scraped hands, sand everywhere.” He held your gaze. The weight of it felt almost tangible, making you seem smaller.
You swallowed with difficulty, resisting the urge to cough, some grains of sand had probably lingered in your mouth. Crewel, of course, noticed.
“When I allowed you to train with beasts…” He straightened up, resting the pointer against his shoulder. “I did not mean for you to end up rolling around on the ground with them” His gaze drifted toward the other young men forming the circle. “Who is responsible?”
Five pairs of eyes, including Idia’s tablet, turned directly to Leona; it was a rather ironic question, considering the professor already knew who had been in charge of the training.
Leona rolled his eyes, letting them drift upward toward the ceiling, or anywhere but Crewel. He inhaled sharply, jaw tightening, clearly wishing he didn’t have to deal with this. “It was just trai—”
“I am not interested in hearing vague excuses from someone incapable of maintaining order within his own team” Crewel cut him off, stepping right in front of him, forcing him to lower his gaze and meet his eyes.
Leona did so slowly, standing his ground, not moving an inch. A clash of tension between a dog and a lion. Your eyes flicked from Crewel to Leona, and from Leona back to Crewel, noticing how close they were to baring their fangs at each other; though it wouldn’t be entirely appropriate for the professor, it would look rather bad on his record to say he got into a fight with an adult student.
“As captain of the Magift team, it is your duty to ensure that everyone ends up in proper condition” Now the pointer was aimed at him...and Leona did not like that at all.
He uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to the pointer, holding Crewel’s gaze. “She wanted to train,” he muttered, his pride intact despite the bruises Crewel seemed intent on provoking. “She did well”
Crewel pressed his lips into a thin line, frowning. “She did more than well” He lowered the pointer and slipped it back into his coat pocket. “Vargas said it was exceptional, and I don’t doubt it” He took a step back, not because he felt intimidated by Leona’s tall, solid frame.
The professor walked over to the nurse’s cabinet, asking a silent question with his eyes. The nurse nodded and gestured for him to take whatever he needed before sitting down at his desk to grade some scattered papers.
Crewel opened the cabinet, running his finger over ointments, bandages, and various things you couldn’t recognize. “But being exceptional does not mean you can allow her to wreck her body for a sport”
You leaned forward again, trying to catch sight of him past Riddle and Azul. “Professor Crewel, I assure you I’m fine—”
“Shuush, puppy” That made two people telling you to shut up, and you were in a terrible mood.
You leaned back against the bedrest, resting your lower back on the pillow, crossing your arms with a small pout, brows furrowed. The pout disappeared just as quickly when you noticed Vil turning his head toward you—you weren’t about to let him see how easily you folded under the professor’s command.
“I want my protégé in one piece, not a swollen version of a sack of meat” Crewel glanced over his shoulder, shooting daggers at Leona.
After checking the first and second rows of the infirmary cabinet, Crewel shut it and walked back to the bed, uncorking a vial filled with something that looked like syrup. The scent was sweet, but knowing the healing potions of this world, something you had never tried, you had a slight suspicion it wouldn’t taste nearly as good as it smelled.
And today was the wonderful day you were going to try one for the first time.
“Bottoms up” He held the vial out to you with a firm hand. “It will ease the muscle pain. We’ll see afterward if you have any internal injuries”
The syrup-like liquid had an amber color, very similar to cough syrup, and with the added sweetness of its scent, there was no reason to suspect it could be anything bad. Well… it definitely had something bad.
The taste.
Extremely sour, a sharp sensation stabbing at your tongue, finishing with a rough, dry edge that made it feel like you were swallowing acid rather than syrup; you couldn’t keep the liquid in your mouth for long. You spat it out. The liquid splashed all over the bed, and you doubled over coughing, the dorm leaders stepping back a few paces; Kalim far too dramatic, nearly bumping into a small bedside table from the adjacent bed; Vil even looked as if you had spat directly and deliberately at him.
Crewel brought a hand to his temple, sighing. “Why am I not surprised?”
You kept coughing, sticking your tongue out as you tried to get rid of the awful taste. “It tastes awful!”
Riddle huffed, muttering, “Just because it’s medicine doesn’t mean it has to taste good”
You waved a hand at him, motioning for him to shut up. “Shut it” You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a sour drop slide down your throat; you shook your head, still with your tongue out.
Yes, not feminine at all and completely over the top...but it was awful.
“Try again, and please have the decency to keep it in your mouth longer” You glanced sideways at Crewel, ready to protest, but his stern look was more than enough to shut you up.
You looked down at the vial, hesitating, taking a second longer than necessary before tipping it back toward your lips. Once again, the sour taste flooded your mouth, and you stopped breathing for a moment just to force yourself to swallow it. The face you made afterward could only be described as the same one when you make after smelling something rotten and being on the verge of throwing up. But hey—you swallowed it, and little by little, you felt your muscles begin to relax.
You handed the vial back to Crewel and shifted on the bed, settling your head against the pillow. “Okay… I’m gonna survive,” you whispered under your breath, not really directing it at anyone. You could now cross “healing potions” off your list of things to try. In that wave of relaxation, your muscles started to give in, melting into the bed as sleep began to creep in.
Crewel gestured for the others to leave, and one by one, even the tablet, they slowly made their way toward the door. Kalim gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and flashed you one last smile, so unmistakably him, before leaving. You returned it as best as you could and shifted slightly to stretch out on the bed. The nurse approached then, applying an ointment to the bruise on your neck and a disinfectant over the cut on your cheek.
With such capable hands tending to you, and the comforting sensation settling in, you fell asleep.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The door shut behind the eight of them with a click that sounded like a gun being reloaded and ready to fire. Crewel’s words were going to be that bullet, and the six young men, and one technological device, standing before him were going to be the target. He stood in front of them, hands behind his back, his expression so severe that even Riddle looked away.
“You…” he inhaled slowly. “Are the greatest collection of irresponsibility I have ever seen in my career!” And he snapped.
Kalim, Riddle, Azul, and Vil all took a step back, startled by the professor’s outburst. Only Malleus and Leona held their ground, unmoving, Idia’s tablet let out a small screech, like a fried wire, before going quiet again.
“Do you even realize what you allowed?!” Crewel paced back and forth, trying to rein in the anger that seeped out of his otherwise meticulously composed demeanor. “You let a magicless student be used as a moving target, thrown into the air and knocked down I don’t even know how many times!”
Riddle raised his hand awkwardly, lifting his head in an attempt to maintain his model-student composure. “Technically, I refused from the beginning—”
“SILENCE, ROSEHEARTS!!” Riddle visibly recoiled, not used to being shouted at like that by a professor. “All of you watched from the stands as if it were a circus and she the main attraction! And not a single one of you decided to step in and stop such nonsense!”
Vil stepped forward, composure already restored. “Actually, we did try—”
“Leona allowed the training to continue” Azul added.
Leona rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his tail swaying lazily from side to side, clearly bored with the situation, being the center of attention for so long, in a reprimand he found entirely unamusing.
“I was convinced that continuing this trial of courage and will would lead to a favorable outcome,” Malleus commented. Crewel shot him a side glance and took a deep breath, deciding not to engage with that statement.
His gaze snapped back to Leona like a whip, and the others could feel the tension radiating from the professor’s stance, so much so that Kalim instinctively shifted behind Azul, at least gaining a human shield in case Crewel exploded again.
“Does ‘controlled training’ mean ‘throwing students through the air’ to you?” They stood only a foot apart now. The air felt sharp enough to cut with the slightest movement. “She was one bad fall away from breaking her spine!”
Leona didn’t step back, not at the outburst, not at the shouting, not at the imposing figure Crewel tried to project. His ears flicked with irritation, but his eyes burned with stubborn determination.
“I’m this close to putting her in the sewing club so none of you”, he pointed with a perfectly manicured finger, “especially you!—end up getting her killed.”
Leona arched a brow, glancing down at the finger hovering near his chest. “You done?”
The others seemed to hold their breath. Idia’s tablet jolted and flickered like it was about to blue screen. “This is bad, very very very bad, he’s unlocking a secret tier-twenty boss—”
Riddle pushed the tablet aside with his hand, letting it hover behind his shoulder, understanding this was not the moment for those kinds of comments. Leona didn’t break eye contact with Crewel for even a second, as if the two of them had sealed themselves inside a bubble where nothing else existed.
“She’s not a princess” His voice rang deep and steady. “She doesn’t need you wrapping her in cotton and silk”
Crewel narrowed his eyes. “She is—”
“Someone without magic, without prior training, and still she got back up more times than any herbivore in this school before quitting in tears,” Leona cut him off, unwavering. “That girl didn’t cry once, didn’t ask for help…”
His gaze hardened, pride—barely visible—cutting through like a blade; a lion protecting a member of his pride. “She earned that training, and the respect of the team, and probably of my dorm”
Crewel didn’t move, feet firmly planted, watching as his laziest and most difficult student had taken under his wing the one person no one in that school full of rough, sweaty, testosterone-driven boys had considered worth keeping close with the same level of respect.
He let out a slow breath through his nose, studying the determined look on his student’s face. He crossed his arms, his finger tapping against his forearm several times, before glancing at the group that had shifted to the side to avoid the line of fire. “You all take this as a lesson” Riddle, Azul, and Vil straightened immediately at his firm tone. “That girl has more guts than half of NRC combined… do not underestimate her again”
Malleus inclined his head in acknowledgment. “She will not be underestimated”
“But…” Crewel added, raising a finger as he looked at each of them. “Her strength is not an excuse for irresponsibility”
Leona huffed, clearly satisfied, wearing a smug, irritating grin as if he had won the clash of ideals.
Crewel didn’t let it slide. He pulled out his pointer and smacked him over the head. Leona didn’t protest, though he did lift a hand to rub the spot, Crewel hadn’t held back. “I will allow her to train… under conditions.”
Leona’s ears perked up, his tail tapping against the floor. “And what are those?”
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The sun had climbed to the rooftops of NRC by the time you stepped into the cafeteria the next day, carrying yourself with a calm, almost unsettling composure, as if you hadn’t been thrown, tackled, knocked down, and practically dragged across the Magift field just the day before.
The bandages on your knees were perfectly wrapped and secured, done early that morning when you had woken up disoriented after hours of deep sleep. The nurse had also carefully reapplied the ointment to the bruise on your neck, and the cut on your cheek had already closed, by tomorrow, there wouldn’t even be a trace of it left. Your hands still stung, but it was manageable, and your hair was no longer a mess, even if it had taken some effort to detangle it after peeling yourself off the pillow; soft and comfortable, far more than your own bed back at Ramshackle. You hadn’t wanted to leave that softness behind, much less step out into the cold hallways.
But you had to. You had to show those bruises with pride, prove that a few falls weren’t enough to keep you down or chip away at your confidence.
And… you also had to show off the new uniform.
Impeccable, fresh, comfortable, and above all, absolutely Crewel-approved; of course it was approved, he had designed it himself. The vest, with its golden lines, framed your waist the way it should, no longer hanging like a shapeless piece of fabric; a ribbon fastened your white shirt in place, similar to the style Riddle or Epel wore, adorning your collar with a neat bow; and instead of a skirt, something you had spent the entire week expecting, they had designed high-waisted shorts, fitted just below your sternum, allowing full freedom of movement, yet not short enough to risk an asscheek slipping out. No, they covered more than enough, with no chance of revealing anything inappropriate if a stray gust of wind decided to ambush you again.
You walked calmly toward the line to grab something decent to eat; you were starving, absolutely starving, your eyes locking onto a plate of rice with what looked like a spicy sauce. You didn’t hesitate; your hand shot forward before another student could snatch it away. You also avoided lingering too long, sparing yourself from the multiple glances, one, two, even three, that other students were throwing your way because of your new uniform.
“And that uniform?” “Is she allowed to wear shorts?” “Why can’t we?” “Dorm Leader Rosehearts will go insane”
And they were right. Just as you were about to sit at your usual table, Riddle appeared at your side, a book tucked under his arm. The moment he saw you, he froze. His expression shifted from shock, to confusion, to nervousness, all in the span of three seconds.
“Th-that uniform…” He had gone just as red as he had during the dorm leader meeting when he first saw you in a dress. History was repeating itself, and it didn’t seem like he was handling it any better this time.
“Designed and approved by Crewel” You adjusted your hair to the side, resting your elbows on the table. “You’ve got nothing to worry about”
Riddle flushed like a strawberry, avoiding your gaze. “That…” He cleared his throat quietly and straightened up beside your table. “If Crewel approved it, then… I have no grounds to object”
He nodded, visibly overwhelmed, just a little, as he tried to process yet another variation of the official uniform. You rested your head on your hand, watching him cycle through different shades of red. “It’s… nice,” he finally admitted.
It seemed to physically hurt him to say it out loud, though it came out barely above a whisper, so soft it could have gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention. He looked away, already preparing to continue his usual path toward the line.
“Want to eat with me?”
A simple question that made him freeze again, just for a second. His head turned back toward you.
“Y-you’re…?”
“Inviting” You blinked a couple of times and smiled at him, trying to appear as warm and open as possible so he wouldn’t feel pressured or overwhelmed.
His eyes studied your expression, searching, and then he sighed, straightening once more, adjusting the book under his arm. “Very well” He returned your smile “I accept your invitation”
Your smile widened as you let him go grab whatever he wanted to eat, shifting on the bench and finally picking up your fork, stirring your food to let it cool down. You weren’t about to start eating before he got back, that would be terribly rude.
“PREFECT!!!”
The shout arrived at the same time as the impact; a heavy force crashed into your side, knocking you off balance and making you drop your fork.
Kalim had launched himself from the entrance of the cafeteria like a cheerful missile, running with his arms wide open, only to crash into you and plop down beside you in one smooth motion, hugging you tightly. “You’re on your feet! And in one piece!”
You let out a breath as you tried to sit back up, Kalim squeezing you tighter and tighter until you felt your spine creak. You tapped his shoulder lightly, a soft pat pat pat, with your fingers. “Kalim, please, you’re killing me with affection”
He let go, still grinning from ear to ear. “I thought you’d be in the infirmary longer” He circled the table and sat across from you, tucking his legs up on the bench and sitting on them.
You adjusted your vest, fixing a button back into place. “Some muscles still hurts, but I’m fine” You picked up the fork that had fallen into your food and grabbed a napkin to clean it.
“Do you need anything else?” Riddle returned, tray in hand, placing it gently on the table; a small teacup was neatly set to the side.
“Nope… well…” Fork now clean and ready, it went straight toward the food that was practically begging to be eaten. “Food.” You grinned, showing your teeth, and took your first bite.
Being able to eat in peace again felt like a miracle, a sweet and slightly spicy miracle. Your feet swayed back and forth under the table, happy to finally get something into your stomach that wasn’t whatever it was you had been forced to swallow in the infirmary; that thing had been painfully bland. You weren’t even sick, so it had felt completely unnecessary to be given what was basically tasteless mush.
Riddle set his book down and began eating as well, slowly; Kalim, meanwhile, was rocking his folded legs back and forth like fluttering wings. “Aren’t you eating anything, Kalim?” you asked as you split a bread roll in half to dip it into the spicy sauce.
“Jamil’s bringing me food in a bit,” he replied, placing both hands on the table and glancing around to see if Jamil was nearby.
Your hand paused halfway to your mouth when you heard that, but you didn’t comment. You looked away, pressing your lips together and shrugging it off before popping the piece of bread into your mouth.
As your gaze shifted, your eyes landed on the book Riddle had brought. Hardcover, yellowed pages, old, but well preserved. From where you sat, you couldn’t quite make out the title. “What are you reading, Riddle?”
“An alchemy book from the library” Riddle lifted it and turned it so you could read the title.
The Art of Transmutation
You brushed your hands together, lightly tapping your palms before reaching out for the book. The scent of aged pages filled your nose, but it was a pleasant smell; despite the yellowed paper, the texture felt firm and slightly rough beneath your fingertips.
“Did Crewel step up the difficulty?” you asked, flipping through the pages. There was a lot of text, accompanied by illustrative diagrams, similar to the books the professor had lent you before, but this one felt far more advanced.
“Personal research for an assignment,” Riddle replied, taking a small sip of his tea.
You paused on a page displaying a rather peculiar flower. The drawing wasn’t colored, but the description detailed a black stem, five white petals, and yellow bulbs, quite beautiful at first glance. You were about to read its properties and effects when the murmur around you started to grow louder… and louder. You lifted your head and saw Kalim and Riddle reacting as well to the rising noise.
A horde of Savanaclaw students, muscular, energetic, hyperactive, brimming with adrenaline and testosterone, crowded around the table. Some even sat down beside you. Another inch, and you would’ve been crushed between two guys far too big for your personal space.
“Perso—perso—” You stretched your arms forward, pulling the book out from your squished side. Your voice was barely audible over the chaos.
“What you did yesterday was insane!!” “More like suicidal!” “More like crazy!” “The other guy still has the mark from your kick!”
“PERSONAL SPACE, PEOPLE!!!” You shouted, and the ones beside you leaned back just slightly, reacting more to the volume than your actual request.
Ruggie slipped through the crowd like a professional shadow, snatching a plate of premium meat from someone else’s tray without them even noticing.
“Knew you’d end up a celebrity” He nudged one of the bigger guys aside and sat next to you, taking a bite of the meat. “Savanaclaw respects willpower and strength.”
“Ruggie!! Can you do something?” Kalim hadn’t been as lucky as you, ending up crushed alongside Riddle by the other students, both of them looking like they were about to get shoved right off the table.
Ruggie laughed and shifted on the bench, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “Alright, guys, give ’em some space.”
Reluctantly, the others started to back off, though they didn’t leave the area. They just stood around the table, arms crossed. It looked like some kind of mafia meeting, way too intimidating for lunchtime.
You sighed, glancing at several of them, beastmen and humans alike, but all of them watching you with that same air of superiority, very similar to how Leona had looked at you during training. “I don’t want to be a celebrity,” you muttered to Ruggie, shooting him a sideways glance.
“Tell that to them.”
No thanks, I’d rather keep my sanity
The noise that came with this new group of bulky “bodyguards” felt like a tribal bonfire, laughter, shouting, overlapping conversations, a few comments thrown your way, all of which you dismissed with ease now that food was your main priority.
Then suddenly, silence, strange and unnatural for this dorm, fell over the table. Even Ruggie’s ears twitched as a new presence made itself known behind all of you. A couple of students straightened up, some beastmen stopped flicking their tails, their ears perking up, others stepped aside, not only letting air flow back into the table but also making way for the newcomer to approach.
Seeing Leona in the cafeteria at lunchtime was… rare. You’d always heard he spent most of his time sleeping in the botanical garden, with Ruggie bringing him food. His usual lazy expression was still there, eyes heavy, he had probably just woken up from his usual nap, and with the same level of politeness he showed everyone else in the school, which was none.
Ruggie made space, and Leona dropped onto the bench beside you, reaching out to snatch the piece of premium meat straight from the hyena’s hand. He took a bite that nearly finished it in one go.
He looked at you, not even bothering to hide the sleep in his eyes. “Sleep well?”
You raised a brow, not expecting that question. “I slept pretty well, thanks.”
“You could’ve slept better if you’d stayed on the broom instead of the ground” He took another bite, and just like that, the meat was gone.
You clenched your teeth, pressing your lips into a thin, very tight line. From the corner of your eye, you saw Riddle beginning to turn red with anger, Kalim placing a hand on his shoulder, whether to stop him or calm him, whichever came first.
Your lips curled into a small, sarcastic smile. “Say it louder, I can’t hear you from your peak of egocentrism”
Ruggie’s eyes went wide in surprise, you couldn’t tell if it was the good the bad kind, as if he had already accepted that a fight was about to break out right there in the middle of the cafeteria. The rest of Savanaclaw tensed as well, watching their leader, waiting to see how this would unfold.
Leona let out a short, low, amused huff, a sound that threw the others off. Maybe, deep down, they had expected their alpha to snap back with a roar at such audacity. His green eyes, however, sharpened with interest.
“What do you want?” you asked, holding his gaze, as if you couldn’t care less that the leader of the strongest, most animalistic dorm could go for your throat at any moment. If anything, your question sounded like you were the one ready to lunge first, defensive before any attack could even begin.
“What makes you think I want something?” He raised a brow, his elbow now resting on the table.
“Because you’re sitting here” You crossed your arms, waiting, bracing for the next move.
Leona leaned forward slightly, that kind of closeness he used to intimidate or assert dominance over new prey, but you held your ground, already a little bored of his usual tactics. “I wanna know if what you did yesterday was instinct…” he tilted his head, a fang peeking into view, “…or luck”
“Could be both.” You leaned in as well, leaving barely a breath of space between you. Around you, everyone leaned over the table, watching like it was the final scene of some over-the-top melodrama.
“Yeah… could be” He reached out again, this time stealing the other piece of bread from your tray. “Or it could be madness.” He turned it in his hand a few times in front of you.
You followed the movement with your eyes, watching crumbs fall onto the floor and into your lap before lifting your gaze back to him. “We don’t run on craziness.”
He tossed the piece of bread into the air, and Ruggie caught it easily, taking a bite. There went your bread.
“Then what—”
“I want ya on the field”
