Now that I think about it, I'm almost certain the loud slap I heard when I first entered my dorm was Matilda—and her hand—meeting someone's face. I ignored it at the time, mostly because Signos was being a complete prick. His eyes felt like they wanted to both melt and freeze me at the same time, and the words that came out of his mouth? Just as cold. He told me—very bluntly—that no one would answer any of my questions. Why? I have no idea. Isn't he the Class President of the Night Class? So why isn't he, you know, doing his job?
I flinch when Miro places both hands firmly on my shoulders. "Why don't we go to another classroom, yeah?" he says, looking straight at me—but his voice is loud enough for everyone to hear, especially in the dead silence.
Somehow, that's all it takes. One by one, students begin trickling out of the room, leaving behind only those who were caught in the middle of whatever this mess is. Even Nyra and Silas glance toward the door like they're ready to bolt, but end up stuck just a few steps from it—like something's holding them back.
Could I just... leave too?
For a moment, everything is still.
"Why did you slap me?" Kael asks, disbelief thick in his voice. It sounds duller now—like something in him dimmed.
I want to ask the same thing.
But it's not my place.
"Wreck something, get something back," Matilda says simply as she turns to face us. "The teachers will definitely put them in detention for this. Just head to the next classroom."
Is it really okay to leave it like this?
Her eyes lock deliberately onto mine. "It'll be fine. We're the only Year Ones in the Lunar Class."
I blink, barely processing the fact that Matilda keeps answering the questions I don't even say out loud.
Before I can reply, Miro gently turns me toward the door, still gripping both my shoulders. "Alright, you heard Miss Dorm Monitor. She's got this." He even gestures for Nyra and Silas to follow him as he leads me out, leaving Anthon behind with Kael—and Kyan, who's now helping Signos.
Signos hasn't let go of his nose, still crouched behind his mask.
I'm not entirely sure how I hit him…
But I'm still sorry.
As I'm still being firmly steered out of the room, Silas and Nyra fall into step beside Miro.
"Is it really fine to leave them like that, Miro?" Silas actually asks, sounding a little uncertain. Nyra just nods silently in agreement.
It's hard to look back—mostly because there's a whole-ass arm blocking my view. Honestly, I probably look like some nosy gossip trying to sneak a peek at people mid-confrontation.
But Miro just hums. "It's fine. They can live without me, you know," he chuckles—completely unfazed—before suddenly veering off to the side.
I only then notice we're approaching a corner.
"But why is Kael even attacking Signos? As if he can—mmmphffh! Mmm?"
I try to turn and see what Nyra's saying, but someone clearly clamps a hand over her mouth mid-sentence—probably Silas. Miro's hands are still firmly planted on my shoulders, so it can't be him.
"Hey—!" I start to protest, but the words barely leave my mouth before we suddenly step into another classroom.
It looks nearly identical to the last one—except this one isn't wrecked.
Honestly, I could do with fewer stares and whispers.
I get it—first impressions matter, and mine screams "walking natural disaster." Tornado girl enters the room, news at eleven.
"Heeey, guys! Anyone tell the teachers what classroom we're using?" Miro calls out as he casually makes his way toward a seat, completely unfazed by the tension still hanging in the air.
"Selene and Thess went to get them," someone near the front replied as I made my way to a seat.
Silas and Nyra settled into the desks lined up next to mine, flanking me like I was part of their group on purpose. Even Miro sat to my left, flashing me a relaxed smile—like everything was perfectly normal.
Meanwhile, I was still clutching my bag like a life raft, the envelope inside probably a crumpled mess from how tightly I'd been gripping it.
Just what in the world is happening?
***
Of course, once the adrenaline wore off and the teacher started rambling on about... whatever it was they were rambling about, my body began to shut down. It was like all the energy I had spent just surviving the chaos of the day evaporated in an instant.
I kept forcing my eyes to stay open, blinking rapidly, trying to ignore the pull of sleep that was creeping in. But even as I struggled to stay awake, I couldn't help but notice the little things around me: Miro shooting amused glances at me from my left, like he found my battle with sleep entertaining. Nyra was spinning her pen in lazy circles, not a care in the world, while Silas—completely unfazed—had already passed out, his head resting on the desk like this was some sort of routine for him.
I almost wanted to laugh at how strange it all was. Here I was, trying to stay alert, while my classmates were either completely zoned out or going about their business like it was just another day. It felt almost funny in a way. I had been so nervous about my introduction—about what might go wrong or how awkward it would be. And after everything that had happened, the whole thing ended up feeling so... anticlimactic.
Because in my previous schools, introductions were never just introductions.
Sometimes, a bird would literally crash into the closed window mid-sentence—dead on impact. The sound of it was so loud, everyone would freeze, staring at me as if I had something to do with it. When the windows weren't closed, something always flew in—usually a pigeon or some insect the size of a small bat—and chaos would immediately erupt. Paper would go flying, people would scream, and I'd just be standing there, awkwardly holding the spotlight. Other times, a sudden gust of wind would whip through the room like a mini tornado, knocking things over and blowing papers into the air, and there I was, still trying to introduce myself.
Once, there was even an actual earthquake. Everyone dove under their desks, doing the Duck, Cover, and Hold routine, while I just stood there at the front, completely frozen, still trying to finish my sentence. "Hi, my name is Careina Dione, 16 years old. Just Reina is fine…"
But here? Maybe the disaster had already happened the moment Matilda literally hauled me into the room to break up a fight—by becoming the biggest enemy in the classroom. I apparently smacked through everyone in my path, like I was parting the Red Sea, or so Silas and Nyra described it to me. It's like they were trying to give me credit for something, but I was mostly just being clumsy and, well, me. The whole classroom was already chaos—shouting, objects being thrown, everything breaking in every direction—so Matilda just decided to throw a bigger mess into the mix. And that mess? Me.
By just being myself, the entire room somehow ended up calming down. I didn't mean to, but my path of destruction had its perks. People stopped paying attention to the fight and started paying attention to... whatever it was I was doing to create all that havoc. Somehow, that was enough to put out the flames of chaos. I guess it's true—if you can't beat the fight, just throw in a human hurricane and let everyone be too baffled to keep fighting.
"You were like a literal ballerina with two left feet!" Nyra had said, clearly thrilled by the chaos I'd unintentionally caused. "You managed to take down all those guys just by being so uncoordinated!"
She said this during some kind of late-night snack break—or at least, that's what it felt like, since it was already 1 AM, and my body was starting to protest against being awake at this ungodly hour. Nyra and Silas had explained they didn't have class at this hour, which somehow made me feel even more jet-lagged—not from the trip, but from having to stay awake when I was usually in the middle of a dream by now. It was as if my internal clock was still in another time zone, and this whole day had just become a blur of too much everything.
And somehow, that was enough for me to have a boring introduction. Boring. I know, it sounds weird, but I actually considered it boring. Because what's normal for me usually involves chaos—like plates shaking off tables when I'm just introducing myself in front of a group of people. I've been through the kind of introductions where people think I'm a walking disaster, waiting for the inevitable crash. So yeah, I had expected more. Maybe a few explosions, maybe some furniture rearrangement, or at the very least, a strong gust of wind to make things interesting. Instead? Just me, standing in front of everyone, surviving an awkward moment with barely a scratch.