"Aren't those Goldleaf school uniforms?" the woman beside him on the bus seat asked.
Glancing at his uniform, he turned to the window with a sigh.
Then, through the window, he spotted it. A long brick fence with bold words on the gate: Goldleaf Advanced Secondary School.
His heart rate quickened. After a three-hour journey, he had arrived at his destination.
The bus came to a stop. He took his suitcase and backpack before making his way out.
As the bus pulled away behind him, he faced the towering iron gate. Below the name was the motto: Education is to Learn.
Beyond the fence, all he saw were tall trees, almost a forest. No buildings in sight, as if it had been designed that way on purpose. If so, they had succeeded. He felt too uneasy to step inside.
Even the surroundings outside the school were rural. No busy streets or shops, only a few houses here and there.
Beside the gate was a small cabin where an old man sat. He looked to be in his sixties, his hair almost completely gray. He should have looked old and weak if not for his sharp eyes and the cold air around him, mixed with the stench of cigarettes.
"Good morning," he greeted politely.
The guard looked up. "Morning."
The guard's stare lingered on him, and he stiffened. What a sharp look.
"I'm going to attend this school."
"Follow this road, it'll lead you straight to the office." The guard pointed to the road.
"Thank you."
He followed the brick road as directed, pushing the red, medium-sized suitcase.
After five minutes with no sign of the office, the crease between his brows deepened.
There were mansions, but they didn't seem like offices maybe teachers' houses?
Trees lined the road as they slowly dropped blossomed petals. At his side, from afar, was a mountain peak with clouds gliding over it. Too beautiful.
Soon, he saw some colonial, old-fashioned buildings that he could tell were the offices. They were made of stone, with bold characters at the top spelling Administration Block.
He had arrived in the morning, expecting classes to be in session, so he thought he wouldn't draw attention. However, in the office, three students stood against the wall.
Looking at them, he didn't see anything strange. They looked like normal students, except for the strange gazes they threw at him, sizing him up.
"Someone needs to feed that dude or something," one of them mocked from nearby as he walked through the corridor.
It wasn't the first time he'd been mocked for his slender frame, which many saw as delicate, so it shouldn't affect him. He wanted to believe that, but it still felt like something new.
"At least he's pretty. Look at him. Like an idol."
"Give it a week. You won't see it!"
When the guy said that, they burst into quiet laughter, almost failing to control themselves in front of the office.
What did they mean? He wanted to ignore them, but after that mock, he turned and his hazel eyes met a pair of sky-blue ones.
The boy had striking silver hair, taller than him by a few inches. He wasn't broad-shouldered enough to be mocking anyone, but he couldn't deny one fact, he was good-looking enough for one word to fit him: unusual.
The boy noticed his stare, raised his eyebrow, and then, without saying anything, turned and resumed his way toward the office.
For some reason, the boy stared at his back until he disappeared. His friend noticed and nudged him.
"Hey, Ethan, what was that?" the boy with raven-black hair asked, then frowned. "You're not actually thinking of recruiting him, are you? Our team's already doing bad enough. His height's a no."
Ethan cocked his brows, a flicker of panic in his eyes. "What? Who do you take me for? Do I just recruit anyone?"
The other boy, with round cheeks and a bit of chubbiness, nodded quickly. "Right. If you didn't, we wouldn't even have a team."
Ethan pointed at him in disbelief, offended. "Well said. I should go and reconsider everything now."
"Do you realize where you are?" a female teacher sternly cut through their chatter.
They straightened and faced her.
"It's always you three."
At that time, the newcomer was in the office sitting across from a man absorbed in his laptop, ignoring him. A nameplate on the desk gleamed: Vice Principal Luken.
The vice principal had soft features that contrasted his full build, which fit the seat completely.
The man glanced up at last. "Your name?"
He swallowed and forced out, "Christan Vance."
Luken's fingers played across the keyboard. "You've read the joining instructions, so there were documents you were supposed to bring."
Christan retrieved the files from his backpack and handed them to the principal.
Luken flipped through the pages, scanning each document. Age: 16. Hobbies: blank. Guardians: single parent, businesswoman. Health: no issues.
Then his finger froze mid-turn on a particular page and his eyes blinked. It was momentary, but it didn't go unnoticed.
Christan's stomach tightened. He had never bothered to read the joining instructions before coming here, so he had no idea what had been filled in by his mother.
"You moved from six schools?" Luken asked with a slight raise of his brow. "That's... a record."
Christan drew a deep breath of relief.
"The reports mention bullying incidents," Luken said carefully, studying Christan's slender frame. "I see. We'll need to ensure you don't go through the same thing here."
Luken's gaze settled on Christan, lingering on his auburn hair that brushed his shoulders.
"Your hair exceeds our standard length," the principal said, his tone making it clear this was a violation. "Our enrollment guidelines state that students must have short hair."
The principal waved his hand dismissively. "But it's not an immediate concern. You will meet every standard after enrollment." Then he added, "As you should know, students aren't permitted phones."
As Luken directed him to the signature line, Christan's shoulders sagged. He already knew Goldleaf was an academy with strict boarding rules.
Still, no phone made the reality crash into him harder than expected.
"Now you can go and finish other processes."
"Thank you." He rose from the chair.
Without another word, Christan walked away to complete his admission.
"Abide by the rules if you value your studies."
That was the note Christan found on the board as he passed through the hallway.
The message felt more like a threat than encouragement. He stared with a stiff expression.
'So, I'm really in Goldleaf, hah.'
He froze before the office door. This was the final step of admission: inspection.
After a moment, he braced himself and pushed the door open.
Long tables and scattered chairs filled the room. Several teachers probably used it, but at the moment only one sat inside.
A man in his early thirties with freckles around his nose and eyes rummaged through a suitcase and pulled out a pitiful blanket. He fixed an incredulous look on Christan.
"This is your thick blanket?"
They'd said thick blanket, but never mentioned he'd freeze his lungs off without one.
The teacher shook his head and tossed it back.
Then the teacher handed Christan papers with the school's rules, schedules, and a map. "Go and pack your things so you won't miss classes."
Christan nodded and immediately stepped outside.