The black cat leapt from the window sill and began to strut toward the Headmaster, each step deliberate, its body weaving gracefully around the shards of glass strewn across the floor. Sylvia turned toward Haier, her expression sharp, questioning.
"Harrison," she said, her voice calm but laced with authority, "why is there a cat in the dormitory?"
As if to answer her, the feline rubbed affectionately against her leg.
Harrison remained silent for a moment. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, a voice echoed from the staircase, rich with irritation.
"I told him not to bring it here—but when does Harrison ever listen?" came the sardonic remark from a boy descending the stairs. He wore circular wire-rimmed glasses, his orange hair slightly unkempt. His frame was lanky, a book open in his hand, his finger tucked between the pages to mark his place.
"No one was talking to you, Eric!" Harrison snapped, his tone flaring with anger.
Eric cast a glance at the two unfamiliar boys standing near the doorway but offered no greeting. Instead, he moved toward the entrance of the living room and examined the mess left in the cat's wake. He scoffed.
"Don't be angry with me just because you ignore the rules."
"It seems you have a problem with everything that concerns me. Why don't you mind your own damn business?" Harrison shot back.
Eric calmly adjusted his glasses before responding, his voice void of emotion.
"Why on earth would I have a problem with you, Harrison? I simply hate it when people defy the rules."
A bead of cold sweat slid down Gareth's neck. The air grew heavy with tension as Harrison and Eric stared at one another, their mutual disdain palpable. Harrison's fingers twitched. Eric's eyes gleamed behind his lenses as he shifted his stance.
And then, suddenly—magically—brilliant blue sparkles burst into existence around them, glimmering like stardust. For Harrison, the radiant particles coalesced around his fists, forming a pair of gleaming brass knuckles. For Eric, they swirled around his hands and transformed into a sleek, black wooden bow with a golden grip. He aimed, an arrow forming on the string, its sharp tip aimed squarely at Harrison. Harrison, in turn, dropped into a combat stance, ready to strike.
"Enough!" Sylvia's voice cracked like a whip, slicing through the building tension.
Both boys froze. The weapons vanished in an instant, their bodies snapping upright like soldiers caught mid-mutiny.
"You two would genuinely kill each other over something so petty?" she said, her voice icy. "I'm beyond disappointed."
Their heads lowered in shame, and in unison, they muttered, "We apologize, Headmaster."
Sylvia inhaled deeply, calming herself with practiced breathwork, then bent down to scoop the black cat into her arms, gently stroking its fur.
"I'll be taking this little cat."
"But, Headmaster—" Harrison began.
She raised a hand—the same one stroking the feline—and spoke before he could continue.
"You don't need to worry. I'll take good care of it. Now, focus on welcoming your two new dorm mates. Make them feel at home." With that, she turned and walked out of the living room.
"Great. More people," Eric muttered under his breath.
The Headmaster halted, turning her gaze slowly back to him, her eyes sharp as blades.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Thindel?" she asked coolly.
Eric responded with a forced smile. "No, not at all."
"Very well," she replied.
As she exited the living room, Harrison and Eric exchanged one final glare—an unspoken exchange of resentment and rivalry.
Sylvia approached Tristan and Garfield, her expression softening into a farewell smile.
"I hope you both enjoy your stay here. These boys may seem a little rough around the edges, but I assure you—they're kind underneath it all."
Garfield chuckled. "Don't worry, Headmaster. We'll be fine."
Tristan shrugged, his tone indifferent. "I don't care enough to get involved in anyone's drama. As long as they stay out of my way, we won't have a problem."
Sylvia's smile widened just slightly. She stepped in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned toward them.
"Don't forget what we discussed. And may I suggest speaking to Mr. Thindel first?"
Gareth, curiosity etched across his face, leaned closer in a futile attempt to eavesdrop, but the conversation had already ended. The Headmaster gave a final nod and made her way out the front door.
As the door closed behind her, Gareth rushed to lock it and exhaled in relief.
"Finally. That cursed cat is gone."
Garfield raised an eyebrow. "Cursed cat? It looked like a normal cat to me."
Gareth shook his head, stepping closer and placing his hands on Garfield's shoulders.
"Haven't you heard the superstition? Black cats bring bad luck," he said in a hushed, ominous tone.
"Not really," Garfield replied with a shrug.
Meanwhile, Tristan noticed Eric glaring at them with cold intensity.
"Do we have a problem?" Tristan asked, his voice low and irritated.
"Nothing… at least not yet. But if you're anything like these other fools, we will." With that, Eric turned and ascended the stairs.
Harrison reappeared from the sitting room, glancing toward the stairs.
"Don't mind him. He just thinks he's better than everyone else," he said, extending his hand to Tristan. "Harrison Haier."
"Tristan Merigold. A pleasure," Tristan replied, accepting the handshake.
Harrison turned to Garfield and his eyes widened in astonishment.
"You're built! There's no way you're just sixteen."
Garfield grinned. "I am sixteen. But I see I'm not the only one here with a strong build."
With that, the two boys removed their jackets and began flexing, striking poses and admiring each other's physiques. Their laughter echoed through the house, ending with a firm, brotherly handshake.
"What's your name?" Harrison asked, still smiling.
"Garfield. Garfield Frutia."
"This is the beginning of an amazing friendship, Garfield Frutia!" Harrison declared.
Gareth walked toward Tristan, his voice low and cautious. "Is this weird to you?"
Tristan observed the display for a moment, then replied without hesitation.
"Yes. Yes, it is."
"Okay then… let me show you to your room. Harrison can guide Garfield to his," Gareth offered.
"Alright," Tristan said simply.
The two climbed the stairs and turned left at the corridor, walking in silence for a few seconds before arriving at a plain brown door.
"Welcome to Constella Academy's boys' dormitory," Gareth said with a theatrical flourish before opening the door.