The clock struck four in the afternoon. The school bell signaling dismissal had just rung.
Al lazily got up from his seat, stretching with a small yawn. He packed his things slowly, as if he had no plans at all—because, well, he didn't.
Suddenly, he turned to the boy sitting next to him—a neatly dressed student with a calm expression, the type who clearly came from a respected family.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" Al said out of the blue. "Do rich kids have to go straight home after school?"
His classmate, who was tidying up his books, looked at him with a Wait, what? expression.
"Huh? What do you mean?" he asked, confused by Al's odd question.
"Yeah. Like… when school ends, do rich kids have to go home right away?"
Still puzzled, the boy answered anyway.
"Ah… usually, yeah. In my family too, everything is scheduled. Activities have to be efficient and safe."
"Wait—are you a rich kid?" Al asked teasingly.
The boy's face turned gloomy. He fell silent immediately.
Al let out a soft chuckle.
Then… panic.
"Whaaaat?! So that means I have to go home?!"
He snatched his bag, pushed his chair aside, and bolted out of the classroom like he was being chased by a debt collector.
His friend was still dumbfounded.
"…Huh?!"
A few seconds later, Al's head popped back through the door.
"Thanks, bro!"
"WAAAH!!" the boy flinched in shock.
"You're rich?! …Freaking weirdo," he muttered under his breath, annoyed.
---
On the way home, Al walked leisurely along the sidewalk, the afternoon breeze brushing against his face. He looked left and right, admiring the warm orange sky.
Suddenly, he heard a faint sound:
"Meooow… Meow…"
Many heard it, but no one seemed to care.
Al, who usually hated troublesome things, decided to step in...
His eyes lit up momentarily as he examined the aura in the area.
A faint energy flickered beneath a large roadside drain.
It's weak… probably won't survive unless helped, he thought.
Not wanting to cause a commotion by using magic in public, Al squatted down, physically lifted the drain cover, squeezed his body in, and reached for a small, dirty, shivering kitten.
Dirty water splashed on his pants. His face got smeared. A foul sewer smell started clinging to him.
Ugh… this stinks. I'll clean it up somewhere quiet with magic later, he thought.
He sat by the sidewalk for a moment, drying the kitten's fur with his school shirt. His face stayed calm and expressionless, even as passersby glanced at him with mild disgust.
"It's okay. They're good people," he whispered—not to the kitten, but more to comfort his slightly embarrassed self.
Then a soft voice came from behind him.
"You're a kind boy."
Al turned his head. A young woman stood there with a warm smile—probably in her twenties. Her light brown hair was neatly braided, and she wore a stylish blazer. Her beauty was elegant and refined—definitely A-class, like someone from a famous magazine cover.
"It's rare nowadays to see someone willing to get dirty just to help a small animal," she praised.
Al just stared briefly, remaining silent as he continued drying the kitten, subtly infusing it with a bit of energy.
The woman smiled gently.
"My name's Clara. What's yours?" she asked.
Al wiped his forehead.
"Al," he replied simply.
He then held out the kitten to her.
"Could you… take it to a pet care or animal rescue center? I'm kinda in a hurry," he said awkwardly.
"Oh? Why the rush?" Clara asked curiously.
"My dad's rich. My friend said rich people don't like it when their kids come home late," Al answered with forced seriousness.
Clara looked him up and down. Smudged face, dirty clothes, smelling like sewage.
"…Hahaha!" Clara burst out laughing—genuinely amused and surprised. "You're calling yourself a rich kid… looking like that?"
Al frowned.
"So what, I look poor to you?"
Clara shook her head while accepting the kitten.
"Oh right… I'm about to leave anyway. Want to come with me? Where's your house?"
Al hesitated.
"Uh… no thanks. I'm dirty," he said politely.
But before he could escape, Clara grabbed his hand and dragged him into her car.
Out of reflex, Al tried to resist. But—
His eyes glowed briefly. He scanned Clara's aura—checking for ill intent.
Clara's aura… was positive.
However, in a tiny corner of it, there was a small green light.
Green… light? What is that…? he wondered silently.
But he said nothing.
The car started moving.
Al sat beside Clara, avoiding eye contact. He considered using magic to clean himself, but… she was sitting too close. He gave up.
Eventually, they arrived in front of the luxurious Virellano family estate. Al looked like a mess—filthy, smelly, and clearly out of place.
Clara blinked in surprise.
This is the Virellano estate… Isn't their heir named David Virellano? Is Al lying? But why lie? Maybe he's a servant's kid? Is he ashamed? But he wears the Hazandeen school uniform… No way a servant's child can enroll there… maybe he's adopted? Who knows… she thought, growing suspicious.
"Right there, Miss," Al said, pointing at the Virellano estate gate.
Clara said nothing, just stared at him.
The sleek black-metallic car rolled to a stop before the large, classic European-style gate.
Al stepped out first. He stood awkwardly on the sidewalk, nodding slightly.
"Thank you, Miss Clara."
Clara leaned out the window, still smiling.
"Go inside first, then I'll leave," she said, still unsure if Al really lived there.
Al raised an eyebrow.
"Huh? You go first, Miss Clara."
She responded gently,
"No. I just want to make sure you get home safely. I'm older, so it's only right."
Al gave a stiff smile.
"Sorry, Miss. I think it's rude to leave a guest at the gate. I'll wait until you leave—fair and square."
A mini standoff began.
"But—"
"But you—"
"Go in first."
"You go first."
"Go."
"….."
They went back and forth—Clara half-annoyed, Al half-lazy.
Finally…
"Huff… fine, I'll go in," Al sighed in defeat.
He walked slowly through the coral stone path that cut through the beautiful garden toward the Virellano main residence—still facing outward.
Every few steps, he turned around and waved—shyly, stiffly. Like a kindergartener being escorted to school by his mom.
Clara smiled and laughed softly, nodding to herself as she watched.
"So… he really lives here, huh…" she murmured. "I don't know what his connection is to the Virellano family, but one thing's for sure—he's… an interesting kid."
Her car slowly drove away from the gate.