Chapter Text
The bell just rang, signalling the first class of the first day of the semester.
Ironically, the teacher is the last person in the room. Teachers don’t have much power in Hyakkaou Private Academy, but they do at least make an attempt at teaching classes… at least for the first week or so.
The teacher in question is an unremarkable middle-aged man, hired to simply play the role of “teacher” for possible prying eyes who may happen to investigate Hyakkaou Private Academy. Just like every teacher on the student council’s payroll.
“Hello Class, welcome back to Hyakkaou Private Academy. I do hope you all had a good summer. I would move onto our normal introductions, but I have recently been notified of a new transfer student that has joined our class.”
He pauses looking at all the students, all of them sitting down half paying attention, probably itching for classes to end so they can all go gamble recklessly with money they saved up during the summer. Of course, one stands out among the rest, not exactly in the center of the room, but close to it. His eyes naturally land on the one student who is not adhering to the dress code. White and blue stand out among a sea of red. “Weird. Did she not get the memo?” he thinks to himself, but it's not like it's his problem, so he continues with his spiel.
He clears his throat. “Ahem. How coincidental their first day is the first day of the semester. But moving on, Mirei Kosei, please stand up and introduce yourself.”
She stands up, and walks to the front of the class looking straight ahead, as the class sluggishly starts to pay attention.
Step. Step. Step.
Her boots clack against the polished concrete floor. Her classmates’ look up, practically one after another as she makes her way to the front of the room.
She faces the class, positioned where a podium would be placed; centered perfectly left-to-right, yet facing the audience from the front of the classroom.
“Hello everybody, I am Mirei Kosei, I cannot wait to get this school year started”
A normal enough introduction, if a bit formal. However, it is not her politeness, but her face that catches the students' eyes.
The edges of her lips move up into a smile, but the muscles around her eyes do not follow suit. Her cheeks do not rise enough, and her eyes remain distant, as if looking through everyone in the class. Some of the boys look a little interested for a moment, but quickly feel on edge as they look for a few seconds longer. She’s beautiful, yes, but to an uncanny level. Her freckles are even symmetrical. She has exactly six on each half of her face, as if the freckles laterally reflected across the mid-line of her face.
“Ahem. thank you Ms. Kosei. You can take your seat. And just so you know, you are breaking dress code. Women are expected to wear the black pleated skirt, and all students are expected to wear the red jacket. It’s our uniform—but today’s your first day, so you will be given lenience this time.”
With a curt nod, she walks back to her seat, taking the exact same path, taking the exact same number of steps she did when she walked up to the class. She opens her notebook to start taking notes on the first, and probably only widely attended lecture of the semester, and most of the class moves on from the odd introduction
Well, that’s not exactly true. In this class, there are a few students that don’t move on from that uncanny introduction as easily. Most notably, Hyakkaou’s very own Mary Saotome.
She grinds her teeth slightly, a little annoyed at the new transfer student. “Who the hell is that calm? That steady, that- unbothered in a school like this, especially a new transfer? IMPOSSIBLE.”
Mary is a woman who prides herself on her confidence, her independence, her ability to never give into the student council and carve her own path in spite of all the things working against her.
For this newcomer to waltz right into the school, calm like a still lake, like she’s above it all, like SOMEHOW. this “Mirei Kosei” has already earned her belonging here. AND SHE'S NOT EVEN FOLLOWING DRESS CODE. it pisses Mary off, in an admittedly petty way. Sadly, Mary is not going to be level-headed about this; She is known for her fiery attitude.
She shoots a quick glare towards the new transfer student, that Mirei does not even register.
“Tch. Figures, Little Ms. Perfect doesn’t react.” Mary mutters to herself, the words biting and spiked with bitterness. She starts thinking of ways to give this newbie a reality check