Earth in Words Institute, Cafeteria Area
Melinda stares at her food – a combination of salad and roasted pork – without much interest. She usually isn’t one to idle while having something edible nearby, but…
“Hey! Are you even listening to what I’m saying?!”
Melinda sighs, then gives Beatrice the most uninterested gaze she manages to muster. “So, your teacher suggested you become a mannequin for the rest of the class, you run, and connected with Seijuro by accident, who promised to help… For some ungodly reason.”
“Hey!”
“But there’s one thing I don’t understand.”
Beatrice blinks expectantly. “Yes?”
“Your voice. Why do I hear it?”
Beatrice jumps up and down on her seat (thankfully, across Melinda and with the table in between them) like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Why are you always so mean?! What have I ever done to you?!”
“You’re ruining my lunch,” Melinda lists, raising a finger for each item, “You’re annoying, clingy, childish, jealous, noisy… Need I to continue?”
Beatrice sticks out her tongue, which Melinda knows is one of the girl’s favorite ways of annoying her. But rather than falling for her taunt, Melinda glances down again and forces herself to take another bite, knowing that if she doesn’t, she will regret it later, during afternoon classes.
“Okay, what’s bugging you?”
Beatrice has her own platter with “food”, from which she seems to constantly nibble in between phrases, frequently not even bothering to look down in order to do so. Melinda glanced at it once and felt as though she ate enough sugar for a month, though she didn’t comment anything, since it isn’t her problem.
“Mel? Melinda? HELLO?!”
Containing her annoyance – and the will to quite literally kick Beatrice out of her table – Melinda swallows as she throws a bored “Wlat?” in the other girl’s direction.
Beatrice’s expression of disgust is almost worth the effort.
“I asked what’s bothering you.”
Melinda straightens herself as she tosses her fork back onto her platter, finally giving up on finishing the half-eaten meal she has been fighting against for the last fifteen minutes. She glances around the large mall-like building surrounding them, at the dozens of different restaurants, stalls, or shops available, most of them run by students. She then points Beatrice towards the hundreds, if not thousands, of empty seats spread across the large space.
“Beatrice, I want you to seat somewhere else. I don’t how I could make this any clearer.”
Beatrice pouts with perfectly red lips still slightly speckled by sugar, forming almost a heart shape. “C’mon, I know this is about Seijuro. Who else are you going to talk to?”
Damn it. More than anything, Melinda hates the fact she has a point.
“I’d rather talk to literally anyone else.”
Beatrice rolls her eyes. “Fine then.”
Melinda, who has no problem making a scene during most days, only narrows her eyes slightly towards the blond, overly perfect specimen who seems determined in ruining her lunch, before turning away as she decides to ignore Beatrice completely; a tactic which has seldom worked in the past, Melinda admits, but her only option besides hitting Beatrice’s pretty face hard enough to make her point clear.
Mercifully, Beatrice now seems happy to eat in silence.
And Melinda would’ve been happy enough to finish her lunch break like this, until another scan of her surroundings reveals how many of their fellow students seem to be pointing or tittering in their direction.
Straightening herself, Melinda glares at Beatrice once more. “What did you do this time?”
“Mle? Nothling,” Beatrice answers during the process of shoving something in her mouth.
Melinda contains her expression of disgust, barely. “Then why are they looking at you like that?”
“Whlo slaid thley… are looking at me?” Beatrice replies, stopping briefly to swallow.
Melinda rises abruptly, producing an instant effect; As her eyes sweep through the place, previously mocking gazes suddenly seem to find their platters extremely interesting, tittering laughs are silenced, and what seconds ago was a lively lunchbreak for hundreds of students, suddenly resembles something akin to a burial.
“Do any of you fuckers have something to say to me?” Melinda asks calmly, her voice echoing through the sudden silence; calm, but with enough of an edge to cut through steel. “Well?!”
Melinda’s gaze jumps from face to face; Some meet her stare, most desperately avoid it, until she snorts coldly, sitting back with an expression of repulsion on her face. “Damned hyenas; Most of them turn mute unless behind their fucking Community accounts.”
“I wish I could do something like that,” Beatrice comments.
Melinda glances at the other girl, studying her. It is obvious Beatrice has never had a grain of shamelessness in her petite body, and, as if to prove it, it’s clear she didn’t even stop herself from stuffing her mouth during the whole thing.
“Respect must be deserved.”
The glow of jealousy in Beatrice’s azure-like eyes as she returns Melinda’s stare has nothing of subtle in it. “Easy for you to say. It’s not my fault the monkeys can’t recognize anything other than violence… This one’s strength is of a much more refined type.”
Melinda snorts. “Right.”
“I’m being serious! If they weren’t so busy-”
“Beatrice?”
Both Melinda and Beatrice turn towards the intruder’s voice, whom Melinda recognizes as a group of girls from Musical Arts, given their clothes and the cases at their sides, which much resemble the one she sees Beatrice carrying around.
“What do you want?” Beatrice asks with no small amount of spite in her voice.
One of the girls steps forward, extending her hand, and resting over her open palm, Melinda identifies what seems to be a jade ring, expensively looking. Faster than she could process the scene, however, is Beatrice’s hand as it snatches the ring away before holding it close to her chest protectively.
The girl glances at her empty hand in surprise, but after a second, lowers it nonchalantly. “Ms. Bennett asked us to bring it to you. She felt bad after you didn’t come back, you know?”
Beatrice glances at the ring in her palm, her expression showcasing subtle shock. Then, she looks at her classmates, some of whom Melinda can clearly spot are laughing at her reaction.
“I can’t believe I dropped it... Thank you!”
Despite her words, however, Beatrice’s smile is strained, and her eyes filled with barely contained aggression.
Melinda rolls her eyes, and sure enough, as soon the words left Beatrice’s mouth, the other girl’s neutral expression crumbled.
“We came here to do you a favor. Would it kill you to show some fucking gratitude?! Why do always have to be a bitch about everything?!”
With each word, the girl’s voice seems to increase, nearing a scream at the end. Melinda notices her closed fists trembling and wonders how long she has hated Beatrice for.
The target of said hate moves uncomfortably on her seat, suddenly averting her gaze. “I said thank you, didn’t I?”
“You know what, Beatrice?”
In a single movement, the girl grabs Beatrice’s platter, throwing it on the ground, and therefore causing sweets of all sizes and shapes to scatter throughout it.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Shocked, Melinda gapes as Beatrice rises, fury written all over the girl’s flushed face.
“Apologize!”
“Or what?!”
“Or I’m going to make you regret it!”
“Oh, yeah? Like you made your family regret-”
Melinda flinches as the snapping noise echoes throughout the cafeteria. She doesn’t dare take her eyes off the scene for a second, but there’s no doubt about the dozens of videos being recorded from all over the place; weren’t for them, she might have taken out her own smartwatch.
“Did you just… Did you just slap me?”
Beatrice’s opponent rises her hand in shock, feeling the red mark now coloring her cheek with the tip of her fingers.
Beatrice herself, on the other hand, seems to have forgotten her anger, her face pale as she sweeps her gaze throughout their surroundings, perhaps catching up on the excited whispers quickly spreading.
Even by Melinda’s standards, she can’t avoid classifying what follows as a good punch; one with a proper form, and carrying all of its patron’s body behind it.
“Oh, Gods,” Melinda mutters as she watches Beatrice stumble across the dirty floor, fruitlessly trying to regain her balance as blood runs down her face.
“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!”
Beatrice quickly gives up on rising, allowing her body to rest against a nearby table’s leg as her opponent, barely held back by her desperate friends, screams obscenities and threats, seemingly having lost all reason.
In the distance, Melinda already hears the noise of the authorities (teachers, most likely) approaching.
Slowly, she raises from her place, feeling like everything happened too fast for her mind to process as she glances toward the chaos of students running, screaming for help, or paralyzed in apparent disbelief… Toward an empty-eyed, bleeding Beatrice, and her opponent, who seems to want nothing more than finish the job.
This…
Perhaps… She should have interfered at some point?
***
Earth in Words Institute, Cafeteria Surroundings
Sara is sure the stupid smile stamped on her face could illuminate half the Institute.
She didn’t know what to expect then, but Avril, as always, seemed doubtless on how to proceed. And though the team drills are boring, there was something about being back, about being a part of something again, which can’t compare to being locked in her room, hiding in the dark.
Thinking about the fact she was given a second chance makes Sara want to dance. Even if her duel with Grace was never finished, and given the circumstances, it probably won’t for a while still, now Sara has the chance to regain her form, and maybe even grow stronger.
Sara’s happiness suddenly subsides considerably, however, once she is reminded of the fact Avril separated them in pairs for the drills, and, surprise surprise, Grace ended up paired with her, “for team bonding”, as Avril put it.
…Not that Sara blames her. Rivalry is a thing, but they can’t afford to have two players truly hating each other on the team, even if one of them is most likely to spend the whole season on the bench. If they fail to coordinate together, the possibility of their duel’s stakes being increased to one of them being directly kicked out of the team is high.
Now sulking, Sara shoves her hands inside her pockets as she stops walking from one side to another to rest against a tree. She has no desire of being the reason someone gets kicked out (even if that someone is Grace), but, and especially after playing today, she realized just how much she loves For Glory, and being a part of the team again.
Well, not like she was ever able to convince Grace of anything through talking before.
Putting the Grace problem aside for now, Sara glances towards the numbers at the corner of her vision: 01:02 pm.
Her afternoon classes are about to start, but there are still no signs of her target. Growing impatient, Sara taps her feet as she watches the students who occasionally walk through the path in front of her, some of them carrying expressions of excitement as they whisper among themselves.
Something must have happened, but Sara contains the urge to glance through the Community, in fear she might miss the girl after having forfeited her own lunch break to wait for her…
Just as she is about to give up and head to class, however, a blue-haired, short girl shows up, clearly having come from the cafeteria, as an apron is still wrapped around her waist, partially loose.
The girl walks fast as if running from something, and Sara is able to notice her pale expression even from far away.
Still, Sara won’t back off after coming this far, and, quirking up a smirk, she waits for her target to approach, and then, once she is sure the girl will not be able to change direction before meeting her, she steps onto the path, effectively blocking the other girl’s way.
“Flora P. Baxter?”
Flora comes to a slow halt, and some of her paleness seems to subdue as she gives Sara a slow once over.
“Yes?”
“Do you not recognize me?”
After a moment, recognition sparks in Flora’s gaze, followed by wariness.
“You are the girl from the video, aren’t you? I’m sorry, but can we talk later? I’m sure we are both late for class, anyway.”
Flora tries to step around her, but Sara shifts to block her path again. Some hardness appears on the girl’s expression as she realizes she is being held against her will, but Sara ignores it.
“I do not enjoy having a lie being spread in my name, Flora.”
“And I do not enjoy being followed. Who are you anyway?!”
“Sara.”
Expecting more but realizing there isn’t, Flora raises her eyebrow. “Well, Sara, how did you know where to find me?”
Sara rolls her eyes. “Your profile said you did Cooking in the morning, and this is the shortest path to your next class. I just waited.”
“I could have taken another path.”
“But you didn’t,” Sara counters as she smirks, causing Flora to narrow her eyes.
“Am I being recorded?”
“Heh. Ironic.”
“Well then, excuse me.”
Bumping against Sara’s shoulder, Flora forces her way through, continuing on at a surprisingly fast pace considering her short legs. She doesn’t look back.
Sara curses silently - Hey, she has never interrogated someone before!
Choiceless other than tackling the other girl, Sara follows after her, trying to keep the pace as she desperately racks her mind for a way to get the information she needs. Thankfully, most students have already gone to class, leaving their surroundings mercifully emptied.
“Wait, Flora! Let’s talk about this!”
“I do not enjoy being followed, Sara.”
Damnit, why couldn’t she have been just an easy-to-bully pushover?!
“Flora, wait! Flora!”
Realizing they would eventually bump into someone by continuing their cat-and-mouse chase, Sara grabs Flora’s arm, stopping the other girl by force… or at least trying to, midst the small blue hurricane she suddenly becomes.
“Let go of me right this instant!”
“Wait, let’s talk! Do you really want everyone to know about your lie?!”
Flora abruptly stops, gazing at Sara (who breathes relieved) with suspicion from behind her messy bangs.
“What do you want?”
“Are you going to listen to what I have to say?”
“First, let me go.”
After considering that exposing the other girl will bring her nothing other than petty revenge, Sara does so. She sort of expects Flora to run away as fast as she can, but instead, the girl quickly straightens her clothes and hair, before meeting her gaze directly.
“No recording?”
“No recording,” Sara confirms.
“And you promise you’ll keep me out of it?”
“As long as you tell me what I need to know, I don’t see why I’d need to go after you,” Sara explains, shrugging.
Flora scans through her expression as though trying to divine her sincerity, but Sara isn’t scared; She’s being honest, after all.
“…Fine, you have a minute.”
Well now, where to start?
Sara suddenly realizes she should have thought a lot more about this.
“First, I suppose I should make it clear I already know someone has been trying to slander Uren’s reputation. Yours was not the only video to come out.”
“…Is he your boyfriend?”
Sara blushes in spite of herself. “No. Just a friend.”
Flora rolls her eyes. “Of course he is.”
“…Can we please focus on the fact you ruined his reputation?!”
“Okay, fine… No need to lose your hair yet.”
Flora sighs, averting her gaze toward the ground as she shifts in place, perhaps having finally realized she won’t simply escape from the consequences of her actions. Still, there’s something fragile in the girl’s expression that cautions Sara not push too fast, lest she loses her chance at finding out the truth.
“Look, I need to know why you decided to post the video, and why you cropped it the way you did. If you were there, you must have heard it when I said he wasn’t bothering me.”
Flore’s gaze remains lowered, and for a moment, Sara wonders if she will refuse to answer after all.
“…You were right, I was ordered to do it.”
“By whom?”
“You… Why do you want so much to know? Does that boy mean this much to you?” Flora asks, at last rising her gaze once more.
“Uren… Uren is somebody I met very recently, but he does mean something to me, yes.”
What that something is, exactly, Sara has yet to figure it out, but Flora doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay,” Flora relents meekly. “The short of it is that I’m not very good with people and… I sort of… Record them, you know, as a hobby. I never intended to post anything, but… One day, Beatrice found out about what I do.”
“Beatrice? Who is Beatrice?”
“Beatrice Swain. She’s the one who ordered me to post the video.”
“Okay, sorry to interrupt, keep going.”
“She has blackmailed me to do her dirty work ever since, just this time, I didn’t have to go out of my way to do it.” Flora shrugs. “Crazy coincidence, but I already had the perfect video when she gave me the name… Just don’t ask me why I was recording Uren in the first place, I won’t answer.”
Girl, I think we all know why.
Instead of giving voice to her jealousy, however, Sara chooses to focus upon more pressing matters.
Beatrice? Who in hells is Beatrice?
“And this Beatrice, is she perchance connected to Seijuro Aston?”
Flora visibly pales, though she snorts soon after. “Are you kidding me? She has been Aston’s lapdog for years, everybody knows that.”
Shit.
“And I assume you wouldn’t be willing to come out against them if it came down to it?” Sara asks, already knowing the answer by the brief glow of terror in Flora’s eyes.
“Look, Beatrice is one thing, her family scarcely cares about her, and I recently even heard she might be disowned, but… Do you even understand who Seijuro Aston is?”
Sara sighs. “Yes, I’m quite aware of who she is. Don’t worry, I was just making sure. Is there something else you feel you can tell me without putting yourself at risk?”
“I’m afraid not.” Flora shrugs as she shakes her head. “Beatrice doesn’t tell me her reasons, and I doubt Seijuro, if she is even the one behind this, tells Beatrice anything either.”
Sara nods. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to learn much other than a second lead, but she doubts she’ll be able to squeeze anything else out of Flora.
“I see. Thank you for telling me the truth, Flora; I know it must have been hard for you.”
Flora rolls her eyes. “Well, you didn’t give me much choice, did you?”
Sara shrugs. “I’m sorry. And I’m pretty sure we’re both late for class, so I guess this is goodbye?”
“I’d like to say it was a pleasure, but, you know, I kinda hope we never see each other again, Sara.”
Sara snorts. “No offense taken, I suppose. Just one more thing?”
“Go on,” Flora asks, half a step taken onto the path.
“You were pale before, and I saw some people walking by with this weird look on their faces. Did something happen at the cafeteria?”
To Sara’s surprise, Flora then smiles for the first in their conversion.
“Oh, nothing important, it’s just, I can’t stand the vision of blood, no matter how much the person deserved it.”
Sara scratches her head as she watches the eccentric girl continue on her way.
Blood?