Valen hadn't even lasted an hour before he was escorted back into Principal Harding's office.
The man was mid-sip of coffee when he saw the boy step in again.
He nearly choked. 'Already!? I just let him in!'
Ms. Lauren stormed in right after, her face the color of an overripe tomato.
"Principal Harding! This boy is- this boy is impossible! He refuses to participate, he disrespects authority, he insulted me- "
Valen plopped calmly into the same chair as before, legs swinging. "Correction," he said flatly. "I didn't insult you. I described you. Huge difference."
Harding coughed into his hand, already regretting his career choices. "Ms. Lauren, please, sit-"
"I will not sit!" she snapped, pointing at Valen like she was in court.
"This child told me to 'shut up and do what I'm paid for'!"
Harding's eyebrows rised, 'what the fuck?'
Never in his career had he ever seen or heard a child behave like this... he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Valen, did you really say that?"
Valen tilted his head, expression perfectly blank. "I only offered her career advice. People pay coaches for less."
Harding's coffee nearly sloshed out of his cup.
Ms. Lauren sputtered, "you- you-!"
Valen leaned back in the chair, hands folded neatly in his lap like a tiny lawyer about to deliver a closing argument.
"If I may clarify… she asked me to solve a problem. I asked if it would affect my marks. She said no. So logically, participation was optional. Therefore, punishing me for not solving it, is… discrimination."
Harding stared. "You're seven."
"Exactly. Think how bad this will look on the report if word gets out."
There was a long, painful silence.
Ms. Lauren opened her mouth to argue, but Valen's gaze shifted to her.
His eyes sharpened, his smile gone. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm- too calm.
"Teachers should set examples, right? Then maybe don't call parents dumb in front of their kids."
The words landed like a slap.
Even Harding flinched.
For the first time that day, Ms. Lauren went quiet.
Her face drained of color.
Valen leaned back again, the coldness gone, his little smirk sliding back into place. "Anyway. Glad we cleared that up."
Harding exhaled, his shoulders sagging.
He rubbed his temple, wondering if he had the budget for early retirement. 'If I even survive a week of this child, it'll be a miracle.'
'Honestly, this man looks one migraine away from retirement.' Valen thought feeling sorry for this old guy.
After all, this was necessary. Establish the persona early, and the rest of school would play out like easy mode.
Principal Harding slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it might hold the answers to his suffering.
Ms. Lauren stood stiffly, still pale from Valen's jab.
She clearly wanted to argue more, but every time her eyes met his, she looked away.
Harding coughed, sat up, and forced a smile that looked more like a death grimace. "Right. Ms. Lauren, thank you. You may… return to class. I'll handle Valen from here."
She hesitated, glaring at the boy one last time before leaving in a huff. The door shut.
The office was suddenly quiet. Too quiet.
Harding leaned forward. "Listen, Valen… you're a bright boy."
Valen nodded sagely. "I know."
"…and," Harding continued through gritted teeth, "I think we got off on the wrong foot. School is about… cooperation. Teamwork. Harmony."
Valen tilted his head. "You mean group projects? Where one kid does everything and the others just leech off the grade?"
Harding blinked. "…Yes, exactly that. But in spirit, it's supposed to—"
"Sounds like exploitation." Valen sighed. "So it's basically society, but with crayons."
Harding's jaw dropped. He stared at the seven-year-old as if he'd just been personally insulted by philosophy itself.
Before he could recover, Valen clasped his hands together, tone sugary sweet. "Don't worry, Principal. I'll try my best not to cause trouble."
There was a pause.
Harding's eyes narrowed. "Define 'try.'"
Valen's smile widened just enough to be suspicious. "Depends on how much trouble I find."
Harding's soul visibly left his body.
He rubbed his face, then slammed a stamp onto Valen's file with finality. "Fine. Go back to class. Just… please, for the love of everything holy, blend in."
Valen hopped down from the chair, smoothed his uniform, and gave a perfect little bow. "As you command, sir."
He opened the office door. Blend in, he says. Sure. I'll totally "blend in" hehe.
Meanwhile Harding's eye twitched. He already knew he'd regret this.
Man looks sooo ready to retire. One push and he'll crack.
The hallway buzzed with noise as he walked back with Ms. Lauren leading the way.
On the way back to class, Ms. Lauren shot him dirty looks.
Relax, lady. If homicide were legal, you'd already have chalk dust on your hands.
His lips twitched upward, though outwardly he kept his expression calm.
They reached the classroom door.
Valen paused, his hand on the frame.
Rule number one of survival: act natural. Rule number two: if natural doesn't work, act scarier than the problem.
He stepped inside. The entire class went dead silent again.
Dozens of little eyes tracked him as though he was returning from a battlefield.
Valen slid into his seat, calm as ever. Ms. Lauren cleared her throat, voice stiff. "Alright, class… let's continue."
Valen rested his head on the desk, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Now all he had to do was wait for the fun part.