"Diana. Diana. Diana."
Someone was calling her name, but the sound barely reached her. She was drifting, mind fogged, her thoughts were elsewhere, perhaps even miles away.
Gulp.
The thirst was back.
She had chugged an entire gallon of water that morning, yet her throat still felt scorched, as though she'd swallowed hot sand.
The teachers who knew about the incident assumed her distraction was trauma-related, so they were gentler with her than with the other students. Most of them purposely did not call on her to answer any questions.
Maybe that was part of it.
But no. It was more than just that. It was something else entirely.
A hand shook her shoulder lightly.
"Diana, you still on the planet with the rest of us?" her friend teased.
"...Yeah. What's up?"
"Class ended. Again. I swear I've had this exact conversation with you like three times. What were you thinking about this time?"
"I… I was just…"
Strangely, Diana's gaze slipped, and her eyes were drawn to her friend's neck.
The skin there glistened faintly under the classroom lights.
The veins beneath it pulsed softly, rhythmic, almost… inviting like a siren's song.
"I was thinking about the project we have to work on later," she lied quickly.
"Oh, right. We should totally help each other with it. It's technically a solo project, but we can still compare notes. And I think Stessie has the same project assigned to her, so the three of us can work on it together."
"Mm. Let's do that," Diana said as she rose from her chair.
"Oh! By the way, have you heard about that new potion being sold in the city?"
"A new potion?"
"Yeah. No official name yet since the creator hasn't released it publicly, but people are calling it the Star Potion."
They talked as they packed up, her friend explaining rumors while Diana nodded, pretending to listen. The entire time, something inside her coiled tighter and tighter — an urge she couldn't name, couldn't acknowledge, couldn't soothe.
She feared that if she acknowledged it, it'd grow even further.
After their chat, the two of them had to part ways due to having different classes. Waving goodbye with a forced smile on her face, the moment that her friend disappeared around the corner, that smile quickly faded.
Her throat, which felt dry, felt even drier now. It was painfully dry as if she had swallowed a bunch of sand.
Her body was begging for something that she couldn't name.
She was already struggling to get a good night's rest due to her nightmares. Now, even outside her dreams, her real life was still a nightmare.
Trying to make it to her next class, her steps wobbled.
Then her knees gave out.
Thud.
Her bag hit the floor, and absent-mindedly, she hadn't properly closed the bag, so a few papers were scattered across the hallway.
A sharp sting shot up her knee, but it was nothing compared to the gnawing hunger and thirst that was crawling through her veins like bugs hidden underneath her skin.
A few students stopped and expressed their concern, asking if she was okay.
She assured them that everything was fine.
A few even helped her pick up the papers. Her heart pounding, she forced herself up, and once she put them all back into the bag and properly zipped it up this time around, she thanked them.
'What's happening to me?!'
Stumbling her way over to the nearest bathroom, her breath came out in short bursts as soon as she closed the door.
Rushing over to the sink, she gripped it with trembling hands and twisted the faucet open.
At the coldest setting, water gushed out. Catching it in the cup formed by both palms, she splashed it on her face once, twice, three times; she was trying to do anything to cool down the heat that was burning inside her skull.
Over and over, water drenched her face, and the droplets would roll down her chin, dripping into the porcelain basin as well as on her school uniform.
It didn't help.
The heat was still there.
Futile, she gave up and turned the faucet off. When she finally lifted her gaze, her breath hitched.
"..."
The mirror in front of her was empty.
No reflection.
She blinked hard and rubbed her eyes.
Was she going crazy?
Looking back at the mirror, her reflection was there, staring back at her. It was pale and shaken, but it was there.
"...I'm going crazy," she muttered under her breath. It must be the product of her tiredness and stress; that's what she was trying to convince herself.
She wasn't a fool. She was one of the top students and had done plenty of research about a certain race before.
Her symptoms matched many stories she'd read about them.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She looked down at them; her slender fingers were quivering as though they no longer belonged to her.
She gripped one wrist tightly with the other hand, but both continued to tremble.
Gulp.
"I'm just having a bad fever. It's… it's not what I think it is. I'm sick. I'm having bad nightmares. It'll get better in a few days."
It had to.
* * *
Though the teachers wouldn't admit it aloud, Bell was impressing them. He had gone from middle-of-the-pack student to someone who consistently scored at the top ever since the new semester began. Full marks on nearly every paper.
Some naturally suspected cheating as the growth was too sudden and too vast, but at an academy like this, one of the most prestigious institutions in the world, cheating was nearly impossible.
The teachers here were the kind that other academies would pay millions to recruit, both for their knowledge and their capabilities as starwalkers.
How could a mere student ever get away with cheating so blatantly? (Of course, the only exception to this is Maya)
Bell had forgotten what school even felt like. He hadn't attended in years, and his last memories of academic life were far from pleasant.
This second chance wasn't shaping up to be any better. It wasn't only the looming danger that pressed against the back of his mind due to the burdensome knowledge he had of the future or the crushing responsibility no other student shared as a result of the knowledge.
It was also the self-disgust every time someone praised him.
Don't praise me. Don't look up to me. Don't look up to Bell. He doesn't deserve this love and attention.
He was also witnessing firsthand that although nobles were no longer truly the powerful figures that they once were, there was still a clear classism and discriminatory culture that was rooted deeply in the academy.
He was most definitely a benefactor, as all the nobles treated him as if he were the Duke himself, and due to his non-hatred for commoners, the commoners also admired him openly, some even mustering the courage to speak to him.
Both parties viewed him in a positive light. A light that was as bright as the morning rays sometimes.
But that didn't mean he enjoyed it.
He hated all of it.
'Arthurr was supposed to be the one to fix this segregation at the academy? Is it my responsibility to do it now?' he pondered.
Then there were the "friends" of the previous Bell. Most of them were nobles, but a few were commoners.
He knew who they were from his investigations, how Bell interacted with them, and what kind of dynamic they shared, but he couldn't replicate the old Bell's personality. So he didn't try. He just responded curtly, keeping them at arm's length.
Little by little, he was putting more space between himself and his friends.
They weren't blind.
But none could say anything. The nobles feared his family, and they wouldn't dare break the fragile etiquette they were trying to maintain by asking outright why he was pushing them away. For the commoners, they had already assumed this was inevitable — that one day, the son of a Duke would inevitably drift away from them. They were simply grateful he'd been kind at all.
Well — all except for one person.
This person refused to acknowledge that Bell was distancing himself. He was either oblivious to it or he didn't care.
"And Mrs. Iman kept yapping and yapping even though half the class was asleep," he laughed. "I swear sometimes, she's so focused on her lecture that she doesn't even realize she has students. Of course, I wasn't sleeping. I was in the front pretending to take notes when really, I was drawing."
"..."
"Did you hear? One of the students was caught in the bathroom smoking. He's being punished right now by the disciplinary committee. They're having him clean the bathroom for the next two weeks. You know how nasty the boys' bathroom gets sometimes. I'd hate to be in his shoes. Welp. It's his fault for smoking in the bathroom. I don't smoke, but if I did, I'd just do it outside of the academy. Why even risk getting caught?"
"..."
Ollie Ozborne Odifrey was the name of this friend.
Although it seemed like he was a fool who couldn't read the room, he was actually a smart young man.
He had indeed already suspected that Bell was trying to distance himself from all of his friends. But why would he care? He was going to annoy Bell until he had no choice but to give up and keep their friendship intact.
The two of them had become friends because, although they were both nobles who were given middle names by the king, neither of them discriminated against the nobles and commoners. To them, both were simple humans.
They were kindred spirits.
Something must've happened to his friend this summer that has drastically changed his personality. Bell had gone from a bubbly, cheerful man to this stoic person who forgot how to smile.
He wanted to help his friend. Although he didn't know the reason, he had faith in his friend that he had been a victim and that someone or something bad had happened to him.
In times like that, what you need when hurting is a friend who is there for you unconditionally. Even if they don't ask questions or try to resolve the issue, their presence alone can be healing.
Ollie hoped to be that for Bell.
Meanwhile, Bell was just wondering, 'How did this man end up becoming a villain in the future?'
A minor villain, sure. One resolved in a few chapters.
But a villain nonetheless.
And why was he so desperate to hang out with another side villain in Bell?
Was this a side villain meeting? Was there a side villain aura attracting them together like magnets? Was another going to join them in the future?