Yesterday's troubles are gone. Now though, I should keep my attention in class rather than worrying about something unsalvageable.
I kept my pen moving, copying the formula on the board. The teacher's voice was steady, but my focus keeps slipping in and out. Every time my eyes drifted toward the corner of my desk, I saw that empty space where my ID used to sit. Gone. Lost. Or worse, stolen.
I shook the thought away and forced myself back into the lesson. Numbers didn't care about missing cards. Numbers stayed where they were.
"Faulker..." Lyna whispered from beside me. Her tone was low and gentle, as if she's about to do an ASMR. I felt her lean slightly toward my notebook.
"You squared the binomial right, but you forgot to distribute the negative sign when you expanded. Look here."
She pointed at my line of work, her handwriting already neat in her own notebook.
"You wrote it as (x−3)2=x2−9(x - 3)^2 = x^2 - 9(x−3)2=x2−9. But it should expand to x2−6x+9x^2 - 6x + 9x2−6x+9. That negative doesn't just vanish. It changes the middle term."
I blinked at the page, tracing the steps I had written. She was right. I had rushed and skipped a minor detail. Stupid mistake.
"And here," she added, sliding her notebook slightly toward me so I could see, "when you combine it into the quadratic, you also dropped the constant. That's why your answer doesn't line up with the example."
Her explanation was crisp and patient. Like she wasn't just telling me I was wrong, but showing me how to avoid it next time.
"...Got it," I muttered, erasing quickly and rewriting the steps the way she showed me. My pen moved steadier this time.
Lyna gave me a satisfied little nod, then went back to her own notes as if nothing had happened.
For me, though, the correction lingered. Not the mistake, but the fact that she noticed. That she cared enough to point it out without making it a big deal.
I breathed out slowly, grounding myself back in the rhythm of equations. Mistakes could be fixed. At least these kinds of mistakes.
The bell rang. Chairs scraped. Voices filled the hallway as the class emptied out toward the dining hall.
I stayed in my seat.
Lyna paused on her way out. "Not hungry?"
"...No," I muttered.
She looked like she wanted to argue, but her friends were already calling for her. She gave me a small smile instead and disappeared with them, leaving the room hollow and quiet.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the black screen. I had nothing. No messages, no apps worth checking... but still, I scrolled, just to keep my hands busy.
The silence stretched.
A chair scraped across from me. Someone sat down.
I looked up.
His name is Krueger. It's easy to tell, because he stood out from the rest.
His posture was lazy, but his eyes weren't. He leaned forward on the desk, studying me like I was something under glass.
"You're the transfer," he said flatly.
I didn't respond right away. Just gave a small nod.
He smirked faintly. "Heard you lost your ID."
My grip tightened around the phone. "...Yeah. Probably dropped it on the street."
"Maybe," he said, tapping a finger against the desk. "Or maybe someone picked it up."
I stayed quiet, waiting for where this was going.
Krueger tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "This isn't a normal school. You know that, right?"
I frowned. "You mean like, this "anything can be bought" agenda by High Council? Yeah, I know. What's your point?"
He leaned in, voice low, calm in a way that made my skin prickle. "And that's why not just anyone can enter. All the students here? They're highly valuable. Future leaders. It means, someone.... or literally anyone.... would make good impression on you for their own benefits. There's also others who played it differently, if you know what I mean."
He let the words hang.
My chest tightened.
Krueger smirked again, but it wasn't playful. It was sharp, knowing. "So be careful. Whoever's got that ID… it's either some samaritan who'll hand it back… or the kind of people who would take drastic measures for their own good."
He leaned back, chair creaking, and stood without another word.
I watched him walk out, the echo of his warning staying long after the door shut.
It was the first real thing he'd ever said to me.
And I couldn't tell if it was meant as an advice… or a threat.
Hours later, the final bell rang. The weight of the afternoon lesson finally lifted from my shoulders. Students packed their bags in a rush, their voices spilling into the hallways before the teacher had even finished dismissing us.
I didn't follow them straight out. Instead, I slung my bag over my shoulder and took the scenic route. The long way around the campus, where the air was quieter and the hallways less crowded. I wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, and sometimes it was easier to breathe when there weren't a hundred voices buzzing around me.
Though, something did catch my eyes.
Up ahead, where the corridor bent and sunlight spilled in from the high windows, stood Kane. Facing him was Shimotsuki.
Here, in a hallway with barely anyone around, their voices carried faintly, just low enough that I couldn't catch the words. Kane spoke while Shimotsuki listened. Her emerald eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.
They don't seem to be having a lover's talk. Both of them wear a serious face. The kind that Lyna would use on me if she conceived an idea of most ingenious. Moreover, this isn't the kind of pairing you would see everyday.
I slowed my pace.
Kane, of all people... I hadn't seen him since my very first day here. Not once. And now, suddenly, he was here… talking with Shimotsuki. The Memokeeper herself.
What could they possibly be discussing for them to look like that?
I considered keeping my distance. But hesitation had never sat well with me. So I called out, letting my voice break through the quiet.
"Kane, Shimotsuki."
Both of them turned at once.
Kane's head snapped up first, eyes narrowing in sharp recognition before he smoothed it away into that detached, unreadable calm of his."…oh, Faulker?" he muttered, like the name was an afterthought.
Shimotsuki's reaction was harder to ignore. Her emerald eyes widened for a heartbeat too long. Lips parting as if she'd been caught mid-sentence. She straightened her posture quickly, but the flicker of awkwardness had already escaped.
I walked closer. "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen you since the first day. Why's that?"
Kane's mouth curved in the faintest suggestion of a smirk. Half amusement, half indifference.
"What coincidence," he said softly, "we were just talking about you—"
A sudden, subtle motion. Shimotsuki elbowed him, quick and sharp, her expression tightening.
Kane flinched slightly. His groan are small. It wasn't a strong elbow, but because Kane was caught off-guard that it hurts. "....Or maybe it's just.... fate, you know?" he said, voice broken. "Fate that kept us from crossing paths… until now."
After he had recovered, he went on to say more. "She was curious about you. Said you weren't in her archive yet."
A sharp sound hanged in the air, which is Shimotsuki's heel grinding against the floor as she stepped on his foot.
But Kane didn't even blink. His tone stayed maddeningly even. "In fact, she wanted to know you better—"
Before he could finish, Shimotsuki's pale hand shot up and yanked his ear. Hard.
"That's enough." Her voice was low, tightly controlled, but her flushed cheeks betrayed her.
I crossed my arms, watching them. "Archive?" I echoed.
Shimotsuki froze, still gripping his ear. For a heartbeat, she didn't say anything.
Shimotsuki finally let go of Kane's ear, straightening her posture as if she had never lost composure in the first place. Her voice carried that faint edge of formality again, but there was still a hint of color on her pale cheeks.
"To clarify," she began, "I wasn't prying out of idle curiosity. I… I've been working on a project. Aria and I are developing a collaboration with an external company."
"Project?" I asked.
"An application." she said. "One that allows students to access essential information about one another. Profiles, academic records, dorm assignments, extracurricular standings. Everything clean and official. Easy to reference."
I blinked at her. "Wait. Accessible to everyone?"
"Registered students only." she corrected quickly, brushing a strand of ash-gray hair behind her ear. "It's an internal tool, nothing more. Think of it as a digital extension of the records faculty already keep."
My brow furrowed. "I see... and who's… Aria?"
Kane finally stirred. His eyes were half-lidded, as though the conversation bored him, yet his words cut clean. "The Envoy. Sixth Seat."
His gaze flicked briefly to me. "Your asking that question is exactly the reason the app exists. Most students have no idea who half the Council is, much less their peers. Including you too, Faulker. This app removes that ignorance."
His flat certainty pressed against me more than I expected.
I crossed my arms. "That still sounds dangerous. My information—our information—just sitting on an app? What happens if it gets out? What if it's misused?"
Shimotsuki shook her head, her movements precise, like she'd already rehearsed these concerns. "Security is strict. Encrypted, multi-gated, and monitored. Access is tied to Academy credentials. No one outside can view it. Only the same basic data teachers already have will be visible: your year, your class, your standings, dorm assignment. Nothing compromising."
Her emerald eyes softened slightly. "Anything more, like hobbies, personal statements, and even photos will only be included if you consent to add them yourself."
I let out a small sigh, running a hand through my hair. "You know, you could've just come straight to me. Or like, use the PA system to call my name to the High Council's Office. I would've shown up."
Shimotsuki stiffened, caught off guard, a faint color touching her pale cheeks.
Kane, however, met my eyes with that same unreadable calm, his voice smooth and steady, while also displaying his dry reaction.
"She didn't want to call you out in front of everyone. She wanted you to notice her on your own… like how Prince Charming sought out Cinderell-"
Shimotsuki's emerald eyes went wide in shock, her composure shattering. "K-Kane!" she hissed, before slamming her elbow into his ribs before Kane could finish.
"—ghhk." Kane's mask finally cracked as he bent slightly, his hand instinctively clutching his side. A grimace crossed his face, his breath tight. "You… didn't have to put that much force."
I stared, unable to hide my surprise. The aloof Kane, poetic one moment, doubled over the next.
Shimotsuki quickly turned away, smoothing her sleeve with an air of forced calm. "Don't listen to him. It's strictly for official purposes. Nothing more."
"Believe what you want." Kane murmured in a soft voice.
He lingered a moment, rubbing the spot where Shimotsuki's elbow had dug into his ribs. His lips curled into something between a wince and a smirk before he finally straightened, gave me a curt nod, and walked off down the hallway. Even as he disappeared from sight, I could tell he was still feeling the pain.
That left just me and Shimotsuki, who stood there quietly, fidgeting ever so slightly with the hem of her sleeve. She looked at me with those emerald eyes, sharper now that Kane wasn't around. "Faulker," she said softly, "come with me."
I didn't see a reason to refuse, so I followed.
She led me out of the silent halls, past a quiet courtyard, until we reached a bench shaded by a tall tree. The late afternoon light filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground with fragments of gold. She sat gracefully, her movements precise despite their faint awkwardness. I took the spot beside her, the silence between us stretching just long enough to feel deliberate.
"So," Shimotsuki finally began, folding her hands neatly in her lap, "how has it been for you so far?"
I leaned back against the bench, staring at the branches overhead. "Honestly? It's out of my expectations. I thought it would be… normal." I paused, shaking my head lightly.
"But I was wrong. I didn't expect everything here to revolve around money. Power, influence, reputation... it's all traded like currency."
She regarded me quietly, her expression unreadable, though her eyes carried a glint of thought.
I hesitated for a moment, then glanced at her to ask a question I've been meaning to ask earlier.
"…Have you seen a certain particular video about me?"
Her brows arched slightly. "Video?"
"Yeah," I said slowly, searching her face for any sign. "Something about, you know... about me being at the center of it. I just thought you would've already seen it by now."
Shimotsuki shook her head once. "No. If there was such a thing circulating, I would have known within the hour. So, there isn't."
I blinked. "…Really?"
"Yes." Her tone carried certainty, though it wasn't sharp. Just a matter of fact, like stating the weather.
I nodded, but something in me didn't sit right. An Archivist not knowing about that? Either the video was deleted, or she was being careful with her words. Still, I didn't press her. Better to keep the thought to myself.
I leaned back slightly, stealing a glance at her. She wasn't sitting like the graceful, composed figure others always said. Instead, Shimotsuki had slipped into a much looser posture, her shoulders not stiff but resting against the bench. Her legs weren't neatly crossed this time; they dangled a little, the tip of one shoe idly brushing the dirt below.
Her hands, usually folded with precision on a desk, were now busy with a strand of her ash-gray hair, twirling it absentmindedly as she stare somewhere far away. Even her expression had changed. The sharp, calculating edge in her emerald eyes was softened. Like she didn't have to measure every word with the weight of authority.
"Can I ask you something?" I said.
She tilted her head, a curious look softening her sharp features. "You may."
"How did you become part of the High Council?"
Shimotsuki tapped her finger lightly against the bench. "I'm the only 1st Year students that can do it, actually."
I blinked at her, certain I'd misheard. "Wait—we're the same Year?"
Her head tilted slightly, almost amused by my surprise. "Mm. Class 1-A. You never asked."
I frowned without meaning to, taking in her composed posture, the way she carried herself with such calm authority. Everything about her screamed upperclassman. "You… don't seem like one. I thought you were at least a 2nd Year."
A small laugh slipped out of her, soft but genuine, and she shook her head. "Why, thank you, Faulker."
Come to think of it, she did say she was bedridden until about a year ago. Which is quite out of the norm if she were a 2nd or 3rd Year.
I rubbed the back of my neck, still trying to process what she had said. "So… about that application you mentioned earlier. The one with the student info—"
She raised a hand lightly, cutting me off before I could finish. "That can wait." she said, her voice softer now, not the precise tone she usually used.
Her gaze drifted up through the branches of the tree above us, where the leaves swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. "For now, I just want to sit here. With you. Just for a while."
The quiet that followed wasn't heavy. It was… different. Calmer. Like she'd put away the title of Memokeeper for a moment and was simply Shimotsuki.
I shifted a little on the bench, caught off guard by how casually she'd said it. "Uh… sit here? With me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Shimotsuki didn't even flinch. She just gave a small nod, still looking up at the leaves. "Mm."
I scratched at the side of my cheek, trying not to look like an idiot. "That's… kinda sudden, don't you think? You could've just said you wanted a break or something."
She turned her head slightly, her emerald eyes catching mine for a moment. "I did. In my own way."
I gazed into her eyes, entranced by the beauty it holds. Just as I was starting to wonder what else I should say, a faint ringtone cut through the quiet.
Shimotsuki slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The name flashing across the screen was "Aria."
She answered with the same calm tone she used for everything. "Yes… mm… yes… alright." Then she ended the call in a single tap.
Shimotsuki turned to me, brushing a strand of ash-gray hair from her face. "I have to go. But—your number. Can I have it?" She said, as she extended her phone to me.
I hesitated only for a second before typing it down, and handed the phone back to her. "Thank you. I'll be in touch, Faulker.."
She stood, smoothed out her skirt, and gave me the faintest nod of farewell before heading down the path.
I stayed seated, watching her figure shrink with each step until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight. The bench suddenly felt a little too quiet, a little too empty.
Her asking for my number replayed in my head again and again. For someone like Shimotsuki, she could probably pull up any file she wanted, or find it from the homeroom teacher. Yet, for some reason, she asked me directly?
Kane's voice echoed annoyingly in my skull. The Cinderella part.
Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. And yet… the image clung stubbornly, making me shift uncomfortably on the bench. The way she'd sat there with me, looking a little more relaxed, a little more human than the "Fourth Seat, the Memokeeper" were said to be. Those small moments were harder to ignore than I expected.
I let out a short laugh under my breath, half at myself. I wasn't supposed to think this much about a girl I barely knew.
Pocketing my phone, I finally rose and started toward the dorms, but that odd warmth wouldn't leave me. Either way, I'd find out soon enough. For now, I simply wish to lay down on my most comfortable bed and to be knocked out cold for the entire day.