Managing to find the classroom, I enter. They don't look all too different from the classrooms in my old world, except there's an unorthodox weapon encased within a glass cube, *break in case of emergency.*
I find it strange that they don't allow us to go to our dorms before class, but then again, we were only allowed to bring a backpack worth of supplies and trinkets.
Some people took this a little too seriously and prepared accordingly...
A boy with spiky light blue hair luges in a backpack that's almost three-fourths his height. I Watch as he nearly falls flat on his face.
Luckily for me, I have lived most of my life as a minimalist. I like to think of myself as a monk when it comes to necessities. So I was able to pack my entire life into this backpac-
There is a large hole and all of my possessions...not in my backpack. Scoffing, as something similar happened to me in my first life.
Managing to find my seat with my name on it, I unpack my possessions, or... what's left.
I hear mumbling as A rainbow-haired girl walks into the classroom. She cautiously walks past people, looking as though she is trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible; many people not even noticing her walk by, which is an impressive feat considering how colorful she looks.
I stretch out my leg as she walks past, and move it as she attempts to walk over. She falls flat on her face. Whoops. I figured she would at least try and catch herself. I lean down. "I'm sorry I didn't see you there."
The shy girl gets up, attempting to clean herself up. "Um...um...no- no- um... worries!"
"No, really. I left my leg out, and it was my fault; let me help you." Kneeling down I attempt to help her pick up all of her possessions. Our eyes meet, yet she is now looking at me with wide eyes.
Whoa, she's bright red, guess she doesn't have much in terms of social skills.
She quickly looks down and desperately tries to gather all of her belongings, only to spread them around even more. "Um... it's okay!"
"No, really, I insist."
The girl attempts to slowly drag one of her papers toward her. I discreetly peek down and see it's a romantic drawing of a knight holding a woman. It says: I would chase you further than any star!
"Um...did you see?" She questions.
I look at her with a confused act. "See what?..." Suddenly, I gasp.
The girl tenses up.
I hold up her textbook that says Schwert. "Schwert?! You're a part of the Schwert family?"
The girl seems to sigh a breath of relief. Quickly picking up the rest of the drawings while I supposedly wasn't looking. "Have you heard of my family?"
"Of course, the Schwerts are known for their renowned sword-smithing skills!"
The girl looks down with a depressed expression. "Well... yes... my family is known for their great swords."
I know very little about swords, but I've read enough magazines to know of her family. So, I begin to connect the dots and continue weaving a story.
I'm curious to see what will happen if I keep pushing, so let's press. "I'm a huge fan of your father's work! Like when he remade that claymore into a double-compressed blade!"
"Oh... yea, well, my father is... um... he's very smart, much smarter than me."
I look down at her, realizing I was unintentionally glaring at her weakness, and quickly correcting my face to a smile. "You look down on yourself, but I'm sure you're just as good- No! You're going to be even better than he is!"
The girl seems to be taken aback by this compliment.
Children of famous people can have a tough time; one of the key rules of power is to never step into big shoes for this very reason. Being the child of a famous person either leads to an inflated ego... or a very deflated ego if you are unable to meet the standards your parents and society have placed on you.
One would think people like her would be skeptical of a compliment, thinking someone is just trying to grab a chunk of the fame. But the power of a genuine... or a well-told lie of a compliment, will almost always trump skepticism.
She doesn't speak for a moment, I assume, to validate the authenticity of my remark. Then she gets up. "Well... thank you. And I'm sorry if I bothered you."
I manage to put on a smile with closed eyes and reach out my hand. "Don't give it another thought. My name is Saint; I look forward to being in the same class."
She hesitates and manages to timidly meet my handshake. "Sa...int? It's nice to meet you; my name is...Espy." She quickly pulls her hand away and looks as though she wants to run away; I'm not sure if it's embarrassment or disgust.
She awkwardly excuses herself as she leaves.
My bored face quickly returns. I look longingly at my desk. I just want to sleep. But the first day is usually the most important for making connections, so I force myself to make more friends.
Seeing someone sitting alone, I manage another smile as I approach them. "Hey, do you have an extra pencil I could borrow- what am I saying? I apologize; I probably should have introduced myself. My name is Saint. What's your name?"
I continue this process, spreading my name and learning about others, always directing the questions to them.
Turning, I see a group surrounding a gray-haired boy with purple eyes who is wearing a beret. He is doing surprisingly well in the conversation; it appears as if he is the one leading it. I manage to make myself a part of the circle.
"-and that's when I said I barely know her!"
I missed out on the punchline of the joke, but apparently, it was funny. The group begins to laugh, so I try my best to follow suit. I have always been told I have a bit of a villainous-sounding laugh... so I try and increase the pitch, but my voice cracks. Fortunately, It's drowned out by the others.
It would be better not to be a background character or easily forgotten in these types of gossip groups, so I attempt to tell a joke. "What's the deal with airline food?"
I've never really understood this joke, but apparently, the others did as they laugh. It's not even mine; I took it from some show.
Fortunately, the jokes still made sense in this new world, as airplanes aren't all that different from the other world, besides the fact that all commercial airlines have military-grade weapons attached to them in order to deter any flying entities that attempt to latch on during the flight. Regardless, they still serve low-quality food onboard, including peanuts and bread that taste like cardboard.
The gray-haired boy, who spoke in a nasally French-sounding tone, doesn't seem to think my joke was funny, and to be honest, I agree with him.
He wears a long purple scarf that sways behind him, and a matching royal purple coat with long coat tails. Im not sure what his ability is, but clearly it has to do with his hands, as he wears fingerless globes to mask an alarming amount of scars on his hand.
He glares at me before stepping up to make another joke. "Well... one time I said liquor, I barely know her?"
The group sits there in silence, some trying to get the joke. I think I get it.
Attempting to discreetly get the boy's attention I tap his shoulder as I whisper. "I don't want to embarrass you... but your fly is down."
The boy quickly looks down, embarrassed, and sees that I'm right, blushing as he quickly zips it up.
I attempt to bring attention elsewhere by cracking another joke.
He must have got his junk caught in the zipper cause afterward, he is still glaring at me.
I was just trying to help.