April 26

Sunday 2215

A tall, lean man dressed in an expensive black suit strode down the roads of Italy, his fedora shadowing his eyes but a content smirk was playing on his lips as he fingered his tablet, seemingly absorbed by the article he was reading.

He was a very handsome man, capturing the attention of almost the entire female population that he passed, even those that were obviously on dates with their significant others, and thus, he also pissed off a lot of people. He was well aware of this fact, he was used to it, and if anything, it only made him smirk even more.

He moved his screen into his pocket, keeping both his hands hidden as he strode confidently into the pub he’d been aiming for during his walk, not even bothering to spare a glance at the figure following him.

Throwing up the doors of the pup, all activity inside stopped as they all turned to stare at the new arrival.

Two suited men smirked at the sight of him.

“Oh, so you’re here?” one of the men greeted, raising his shot glass towards the man. “Got yourself a new assignment have you?”

“Ay.” the man confirmed with a sharp nod, his deep voice booming over the silence as he confidently strode into the building.

“Where is it now?” the other man asked, glancing at the man from the corner of his eye. “Rome? Venice?”

“New-America.” the man answered casually, never even taking his hands out of his pockets.

“New-America!?” the two men immediately reacted, looks of shock plastered over their faces as they turned fully towards the man.

“That old man finally managed to make the lion give in?”

The man allowed himself a light chuckle at the sight of their reactions.

The man behind the counter set down a shot of amber liquid in front of the man.

“Looks like I’m in for a long trip.” he mused, long fingers picking up the shot and downing it with little effort.

At that moment, the shadow that had followed the man decided to finally step out, a knife raised high above his head as he let out a loud cry, bringing down the knife, going in for the kill.

It didn’t quite happen the way he’d imagined it.

The knife had barely come within an inch of the man’s neck before it was suddenly knocked out of his hand, the bones in his wrist snapping, and the very next second, the wannabe-assassin was lying on the floor, twitching in pain as he clutched at his broken wrist, screaming in pain as he started up at the man, eyes full of fear.

All the man did was smirk, downing another shot.

Oh, he was going to have fun in New-America, that much was clear.

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April 27

Monday 2215

It was the day she’d been waiting for.

Cecilia was standing in the reception of the hospital, a light bag hanging from her shoulder as she waited for Dr. Kondou. The doctor had gone to schedule Cecilia for a time for a time at a local therapist, something Cecilia had completely forgotten that she’d probably need as she has been shot in the stomach.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Cecilia raised herself on the tip of her toes, relishing in the unnatural amount of balance she now possessed. Of course, she’d been banned from participating in any form of physical classes, including her ballet lessons, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t practice the basics in her bedroom to keep her flexibility and the strength in her leg and back muscles. She didn’t want to return to ballet classes after summer vacation and find that she’s even more useless in the art that she’s ever been before.

She didn’t look composed at all, what with all her restless energy that had been building up inside her during the time she’d spent locked up in the building.

“Miss Brandet!” Dr. Kondou called out as he finally arrived into the lobby, making both women turn towards him as he approached them, a smile on his face. “I’ve got the time,” he said, holding out his tablet, ready to transfer the information.

“I don’t feel as though I need it.” Cecilia said as she reluctantly pulled her alexandrite-type gem from her pocket.

Dr. Kondou just laughed as he transferred the info.

Just to be safe, Cecilia activated an alarm for the event, setting it to the day before just to make sure that she didn’t forget it.

It wouldn’t do if she did.

“Let the therapist decide that, alright?” he put his hand on her shoulder, lowering himself down to look into her eyes at a more equal level. “You take care of yourself.” his eyes narrowed as he held up a finger in front of her case as though he were scolding a child. “Remember,” he even changed the tone of his voice to fit his demeanor. “No ballet.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes at his words.

“I know.” she responded.

“Ceci.” Jennifer’s voice spoke up from behind Cecilia’s back, making both the doctor and the daughter turn around towards her.

“Mom.” Cecilia breathed, letting her hands clench around the straps on her bag. “You’re late.”

“I know.” Jennifer answered with a deep breath, letting her hand run over her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” suddenly, her face spread into a wide, almost victorious smile. “Your shelves arrived an hour ago.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened.

“Really?” she couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.

Happily, Jennifer nodded, rubbing her hands over her daughters arms.

Unfortunately, the doctor had to ruin their moment.

“You’re officially signed out of our system.” he stated with a smile, gesturing with his screen before that mischievous smile once again returned to his face, she was seriously starting to get tired of that smile. “Please do not make us register you back in again.”

She sighed heavily, hands still clasped around the strap of her bag.

“I’ll try not to.”

The doctor just kept smiling.

“Keep shining.” he threw the women’s way with a point, a goodbye term Cecilia had no idea how it came to be. She dislike answering it due to how cheesy she found it.

Thankfully, Jennifer saved her from doing that.

“Brightly.” she replied, pointing right back with a smile as she turned Cecilia around towards the hospital doors.

“Why do we say that again?” Cecilia found herself whispering, her mothers hands still on her shoulders as they finally stepped out of that dreadful building.

“Don’t question culture Sweetheart.” came Jennifer’s immediate answer, giving Cecilia’s shoulder a squeeze before they separated, walking about a foot away from one another, allowing the younger Brandet woman to reach into her bag to pull out the bottles of pills.

She couldn’t help herself.

There was still just something about them that rubbed her the wrong way.

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Jennifer had said that Cecilia's long-since ordered storage space had arrived, and now, they were standing in her bedroom, waiting to be put together and be filled with what more than likely still lay scattered all over her floor back home.

Standing in front of her bedroom door, Cecilia felt somewhat uncomfortable, wondering whether or not she would actually open the door and face the mess she knew would great her on the other side. It just would feel right after having been locked up in the all-too-clean hospital for as long as she had. The mess that she'd gotten so used to before would now most likely feel so much worse than it ever has.

She stared at the nameplate she'd made a few years ago, frowning slightly at the glittering lines her eleven-year-old self had probably thought of as pretty. It looked as though that too was due for a change.

Finally, she shook her head, banishing her foreboding notions and decided to just get it over with.

With that thought, she put her hand on the handle of the door and practically shoved the large slab of wood open.

Each step up the stairs had been heavier than the one before, until finally, she stood at the top of the stars, facing the mess that she'd lived in for the past three years.

Just like she had expected, the mess felt immense.

The piles of used papers, dirty clothes, and other knick-knacks felt so much larger than how they had felt the last time she had seen them.

However…

Slowly, she turned her attention to the series of different-sized boxes that stood in the middle of the room, the mess that had previously been there having been viciously shoved away so that the boxes wouldn't crush them.

That mess would soon be dealt with.

Taking a deep breath, Cecilia dropped her bag to the floor, rolling up the sleeves of her white cardigan as she marched to the boxes, only sparing a thought to fetch a pair of scissors from on top of her desk (the drawers were full of underwear, socks, and other things that would later find a new home) before she ripped open the cardboard to reach the pale brown wood that made up the shelves and other things she was going to put together.

She didn't even notice the fierce tingling sensation at the tip of her fingers.

Now, Cecilia was by no means an unintelligent young woman. Her test results were nothing to go by, her sense of logic and general level of understanding was quite high. In fact, one of the three motto's she went by was "I don't know a lot of things, but I understand plenty". She understood and followed all the lectures at school perfectly fine, and so, she was able to understand and follow the instructions kept in the boxes equally perfectly fine.

Truth be told, it wasn't the first time she'd have to put furniture together on her own, what with her father not being around and all.

Within a couple of hours, Cecilia had put together the shelves, the standing ones as well as the ones she was to screw onto the walls. Seeing as she had two shelves of the same height, she used them to help her raise the larger wall-mounted shelves before tightly screwing them in place. With the shelves in place, she moved around everything else to where she wanted them, screwing them in place as well. The last thing she needed to mount was the smaller shelves and organization above her desk, leaning back when she was done.

It was strange, seeing so many empty shelves and drawers all around the room.

If someone had stepped in right this moment, they would really have believed that Cecilia was a slob, too lazy to put anything where there was room.

She was proud of her work, but then she looked down at her feet, reminding herself that her work had only just behind.

The tingling sensation had now spread to the whole of Cecilia's palms, but she was too busy to register that.

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At 06:48 pm, Jennifer knocked on her daughter's bedroom with a tray of Juice and an assembly of snacks resting on her left forearm. She didn't wait for an invitation and just walked in.

What met her eyes, was something she had never expected to see in her daughter's bedroom ever since Cecilia first started buying home seemingly useless things at the start of middle-school.

At the moment, Cecilia was standing in front of a tall cupboard, carefully sliding her finished paintings into place. The piece of furniture was big enough that only half of the thing was filled up, leaving more than enough room for her future works. Jennifer suspected that Cecilia was only sorting the paintings after the order of which they had been painted right now, but if she knew her daughter, she would probably think of a way to sort them after motive on a later date.

The difference in the room was already quite startling.

All the discarded papers had either been thrown away for being useless or put into binders and folders that were now stacked in bookcases leaning against the wall, Notebooks, diaries, and the mountain of sketch-books were not too far away from them. Maybe they too would be carefully sorted at a later date.

Jennifer could spot the antique porcelain dolls Cecilia had received for several years sitting on top of a wide wall-mounted shelf, twenty-seven dolls in total, all of varying sizes and makes, although they were all equally beautiful in beautiful dresses and glossy hair more often than not worn in ringlets.

Perhaps that had been why Carl had bought them in the first place.

After all, Cecilia's hair would have been worn in natural ringlets should she actually decide to manage it.

Her daughter had taken great care of the dolls through the years, even though the majority of them had been lost to the mess that had covered the floor.

Looking at the dolls, Jennifer couldn't help but sweep her eyes over the rest of the bedroom, her gaze locking on the white plush bunny with the orange ribbon tied around its neck that Cecilia had had since Jennifer had first made it for her sixth birthday. It amazed Jennifer how it had still maintained it's pure white color.

Next to the bunny (whom Jennifer distinctly remember having been named Snowy), on the bedside table, stood the antique music-box that was basically just a porcelain, spinning, figurine of a ballet dancer (not an actual box), that was winded up with the strange, golden, crest-like key that Cecilia even now was hanging around her neck.

Her eyes continued, this time landing on the antique tea-set that was an actual real china set from France that Carl had bought for Cecilia when she had been around the age where girls liked to have tea-parties. It was a miracle that the girl was actually really careful with her father's gifts and so, the most likely very expensive set didn't seem to have a crack on it even as it lay among the sheets on Cecilia's bed.

Jennifer's eyes moved over Cecilia's desk where they froze again on the small, beautiful, just as antique as the china, decorated silver trinket box that actually had the name Cecilia engraved into the lid from its first owner, Cecilia used the engraving for inspiration whenever she did calligraphy so she didn't mind the name. Jennifer knew that Cecilia kept something she considered special in that box, it was just that every time Jennifer had tried to get Cecilia to show her what it was, Cecilia would blatantly refuse her.

It may be because Cecilia herself doesn't even know what the box contains, and is afraid of what memories might resurface should she decide to open it. She'd forgotten it a few years ago.

Continuing with her sweep, her eyes fell on the large mahogany jewelry box that had been temporarily stationed on top of the desk. It's multiple compartments folded out, ready to be filled with the many pieces of jewelry that were most likely scattered all over the room.

That Carl and showering Cecilia with gifts.

If he's feeling so guilty for not being around then he should just visit, really.

He used to mostly send her toys. Beautiful, antique toys, mostly in the Victorian style or 21st century, until she entered her teen years, at which point he began to send her all types of clothing, jewelry, allergy safe makeup, shoes, accessories. Everything a teenage girl could ever wish for.

The only reason he knew to send her allergy safe make-up being that he too shared that same allergy.

One would think that all of these gifts would make her little girl spoiled, but not Cecilia. It may have been due to how everyone outside of her home was treating her, but Cecilia barely thought about herself at all.

Most of the toys that Carl had sent were now packed away in the attic. Like that large, beautiful, antique Victorian doll-house with the realistic furniture and dolls, and the surprisingly large assortment of clothes for said dolls. Or that beautiful rocking-horse that had been shaped like a beautiful white mere with actual horse hair for a tail and mane.

It was a shame that they had to be packed away, but Cecilia felt that they would take too much place in her room (even though Jennifer could see that Cecilia hasn't wanted to pack away all of her toys either) and so, they were gathering dust in the basement at the moment.

Perhaps when Cecilia gets married and has her own little girls, those things would be played with once more.

The thought of Cecilia starting her own family with a kind, intelligent young man made Jennifer feel equally happy as she dreaded the wedding she was sure would happen one day.

She trusted her daughter, she was too good a judge of character to get into a relationship with someone that would become a stalker should she break up with them, or even stay in a relationship she can tell is starting to fall apart.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

And so, an intelligent young man that treated her daughter as though she were their world was the best option that Jennifer could think of.

Jennifer couldn't help but smile at her daughters bedroom, even though accessories, make-up, shoes, and clothing were still scattered all over the floor (she really should get her her own laundry-basket), the room looked a hundred percent better than it had done when Jennifer had led the delivery men into the room.

The room itself screamed teenager by the flat TV hung on top of the wall and the laptop sitting next to the jewelry box, not to mention the full-body mirror practically covered by discarded garments. But the things she kept for decoration showed that she had a certain level of innocence left from her childhood years.

Not only on the toys.

Even though her daughter's favorite color was and probably would forever remain as orange, she had told Jennifer that too much orange over an extended period of time would only serve to make her eventually hate the color, and thus, Cecilia had optioned to decorate her room in the softer colors, pastels, the colors that the publicly owned buildings were painted in to keep your eyes from being blinded.

She was an artistic child after all.

Buying her own rugs and curtains, sheets and covers. Jennifer knew there was even an assortment of wall paints in the room somewhere that was to be opened once Cecilia had everything in order.

Cecilia had even deliberately ordered shelves that weren't lacquered so that she may paint them as well as the room once she was done.

"I like what you've done with the place," Jennifer remarked as she stepped over the hair-brush her daughter had probably long-since forgotten ever existed, making her way towards the bed.

Cecilia closed the doors of the cupboard, turning towards her mother as she made to sit down on the cushion covered chest standing at the foot of the bed. The one filled with curtains, sheets, covers, and embroidered handkerchiefs so it was absolutely useless for any other storage).

"Actual storage space does make it easier." The teenager breathed, frowning as she finally registered the tingling in her hands, trying to diminish the sensation by brushing them against her jeans. It was like the tingling you get when a limb is waking up only… hotter (temperature wise).

"You going to gather up the jewelry now?" Jennifer asked, nodding towards the gaping jewelry-box.

Cecilia had received that thing for her fifteenth birthday, only by that time her jewelry was already terribly scattered all over her room and she had just, never bothered to look for them through the mess.

Now, however, searching for the glimmering pieces of metal and gemstones (both fake and real) would be so much easier. In fact, she could already spot about twenty of them with a quick look around the floor.

"That's the plan," Cecilia replied with what could only be described as a sigh of surrender.

From one task that required a lot of lifting and stretching, she would directly move on to a task that required a lot of bending down.

Who knew cleaning could be such a workout?

Well, at least it would help her keep her leg muscles in shape.

Jennifer, who had apparently noticed her daughter's exhausted expression, twisted herself around where she was sitting and reached over to the tray to pick up the glass of clear pear juice. Standing up, she held the glass up to the tired looking teenager.

"How about a little break first?" she asked gently with a warm smile. "Wouldn't want you to end up back at the hospital when I've just got you back home now would we?"

Cecilia smiled gratefully at her mother, taking the glass from her hand.

The cold liquid had chilled the glass, cooling down her still tingling fingers, and Cecilia couldn't help the relieved sigh escaping her lips at the feel of the cold.

Wait a second… was that… sizzling?

Eyes shooting down to her hand, Cecilia thought, for a split second, that she saw a light, almost invisible mist steaming up from where her fingers touched the glass, but the second she blinked, it was gone.

Along with the tingling.

"Is something wrong?" Jennifer asked, succeeding in snapping her daughter out of her thoughts.

Looking up at her mother, Cecilia hesitated for a second before slowly shaking her head.

"No," she answered, looking back at the glass. "Nothing at all."

Brushing off what she'd seen as her overworked mind playing tricks on her, Cecilia brought the glass up to her lips, downing as much as she could in one go.

Thankfully, her mother had brought a whole pitcher of the thing so Cecilia didn't have to save anything.

The liquid was a little more… room temperature than the coolness of the glass had led her to believe, but it still worked wonders in unwinding her over-worked body.

The sweet taste of the juice brought a smile to Cecilia's mouth. That particular type of juice has always had that power, ever since she was a baby and it had been the first thing she had tasted that wasn't breast-milk or formula (at least, according to Jennifer). The liquid didn't have any added sugar or sweetening so it was alright for a seven-month-old baby to drink, and little baby Cecilia had loved it.

Seeing Cecilia's reaction, Jennifer reached out her hand to stroke her daughter over her terribly messy hair.

Jennifer frowned for a moment. She remembered when she had been the one to take care of the girl's hair, stars how beautiful it had been then, shining in the sunlight as if it had been spun out of gold, curling into those adorable ringlets that Jennifer had loved to put up into silk ribbons.

Then, the hair had gotten longer, thicker, and maintaining them became more like plowing through a field before sowing than the calming process Jennifer remembered, and before either of the women knew it, it had become a birds nest.

"You should really do something about this." Jennifer murmured, letting her fingers pinch the tips of Cecilia's hair, stroking them between her fingers.

It still shocked Jennifer just how close to the same height the two of them were.

This earned Jennifer an eye-roll from her daughter.

Brushing off her mother's hand, Cecilia downed the remaining liquid in the glass.

"Not now." She groaned. "Too much to do."

Jennifer sighed heavily, putting her hands on her hips.

"Alright." She gave. "But after you're done, I want you to take a long shower young lady." She almost raised her finger in mock scolding.

"Alright." Was the only reply she got.

Cecilia put the glass down, stretching a little, listening with satisfaction as a few of her joints clicked before she proceeded to push her mother out of the room.

"Now goodbye."

The woman stopped herself in the doorway by grabbing hold of the framed, turning her head around to look at her daughter from the corner of her eye.

"Don't forget to brush your hair."

"I know." Cecilia groaned, pushing her mothers back with a bit more force. "I'm not a child anymore, remember?"

"I know you're not honey, but-" she didn't get to finish her sentence as she last shove from Cecilia caused her to lose her grip on the door-frames and she almost tumbled into the hallway, turning around just in time to see her daughter shut the door behind her.

"You're still my daughter." Jennifer finished in the silence of the hallway.

Really, their house was way too big for just the two of them.

She couldn't wait for the new guest to arrive.

Wait… had she forgotten to tell Cecilia about him?

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On the other side of the door, Cecilia forced herself back up the steps, stopping at the top to look over what remained of the mess.

“Alright floor,” she muttered, brushing her filthy bangs from her face, a fire burning behind her light brown eyes. The strange tingling feeling in her hands returning. “It’s about time you showed yourself.”

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May 1

Friday 2215

Whilst Cecilia had been released to return home, she was basically grounded for another week before she could return to the army of hormonal carnivores that was the student body.

And so, there she was, sitting on her bed and absentmindedly running her pen over a blank paper in her sketchbook.

Her room looked very different than it had been for several years. For one, you could actually see the soft grass-green carpet that had been hidden under the mess, and for another, she’d painted the walls in sky blue and shades of green, creating plain green kills. It wasn’t just the walls she’d painted though, she’d also painted the shelves, cupboards, and cases, blending them into the walls the best she could. The only thing she didn’t paint was the organization above the desk, the desk itself, and of course, the bed.

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This paint-job was just the start though, she had several details planned for a later date, but it would have to wait until she had a clear picture in her head and had them outlined on the wall before she attempted anything with a brush.

She didn't want to ruin all her hard work.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she caught sight of her doodles from the corner of her eye.

The whole page was littered with strange… symbols.

Hard lines, soft lines, curved and swirly lines, making up strange… rune-like figures. Or maybe they were more like hieroglyphs that were trying to be secretive about what they really looked like.

Cecilia had been frowning, turning the sketch-book from angle to angle in front of her eyes when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Cecilia called, still looking at the doodles as her mother walked up the steps.

Jennifer didn't have to say anything, Cecilia had a rather good idea of what she wanted to tell her.

"Viola call again?"

Really, that woman was a walking land-mine, one move in the wrong direction and she just explodes in a fit of panicked cries and calls Jennifer even though there are other competent employees at the Crescent bakery.

Her mother nodded with a sigh, her hair already pulled up into a bun.

"I'll probably be gone for a few hours." She said slowly, "Which means that I probably won't be back in time before the guest arrives."

Cecilia almost dropped her sketchbook, whipping her head around to look at her mother, her eyes wide open in shock.

"What guest?" she asked, voice almost frantic.

Jennifer's face broke into a look of realization, her hand flying up to slap herself on the forehead.

"I knew I had forgotten to tell you something!" she exclaimed, taking a deep breath as she let her hands fall on her hips, eyes locked onto the newly cleaned floor.

After a moment, she looked up at her daughter.

"A young man called to rent the room just a day after I put out the notice." She explained. "He'll be arriving in one, maybe two hours, so… you think you could let him in in my place?"

For a moment, Cecilia just sat there, shocked that her mother's notice had gotten a reply that quickly.

Sighing heavily, Cecilia picked her sketchbook back up from the mattress.

"Fine." She breathed.

"Thank you," Jennifer said before she slipped out of the room, leaving her daughter to her doodles.

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Cecilia could have sworn that she'd just been doodling for about half an hour when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. Though, when she checked the time, she saw that it really had been almost three hours.

Taking a deep breath, Cecilia pulled herself away from the bed and marched down the two sets of stairs down to the hallway, immediately freezing at the tall, shadowed figure on the other side of the tinted window fitted into the front door. The most she could tell about the figure was that it was wearing some sort of hat.

Squaring her shoulder, Cecilia continued the remaining steps to the door and opened it slowly.

The man on the other side of the door was, without a doubt, a foreigner. Tall, lean, but with notable muscle-mass under what Cecilia suspected was a rather expensive black suit. His face was sharp, with pointed features and naturally narrowed impossibly dark lifeless eyes. The only thing that didn't look prim and proper about this man was his ruffled hair, visible under the shining black fedora on top of his head. Cecilia mentally cursed.

He's hot.

A dark chuckle escaped the stranger, and it was at that moment that Cecilia realized.

He had been studying her too.

"Jennifer Brandet?" the man questioned, her bass voice booming through the foyer.

Snorting without humor, Cecilia met the man's eyes.

"What do you think?"

The man chuckled at her reaction.

"Cecilia Brandet then?" he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. "Are you usually like this when meeting strangers?"

Cecilia shifted her weight from one foot to another.

"No." she answered swiftly. "But you don't really know me, so it's fine." She sighed, glancing down at the flood before meeting the man's eyes again. "You the new guest?"

If the smirk could have gotten wider, it just did.

The man lifted his hat from his head, putting it against his chest and bowed deeply for the tiny girl in front of him.

"Luke Salafay, at your service." Straightening himself out, he dropped the hat back on top of his surprisingly messy hair. "I'm going to be the teacher of a new optional course at your school starting next week."

"Right…" Cecilia sighed, not really caring.

She liked her school schedule as it was, she didn't want to add another course to it.

Shaking her head, she jerked her head into the house.

"I'll show you to your room."

Even though Cecilia hadn't been aware that the man was even arriving, Jennifer and Cecilia had decided on which room to give to the rental guest, and their choice had been the first door on the left at the top of the second floor. It was a medium-sized room with a small balcony, painted in neutral colors of beige and green, it had a bed, a desk, a closet, and an empty bookcase, not to mention Cecilia's absolute favorite part about the room.

It was the one furthest away from her room.

Cecilia returned to her doodling as she led the way up the staircase, running her pencil over the symbols that just continued to fill up the paper.

She'd just reached the top of the stairs when she suddenly realized, her sketchbook wasn't in her hands anymore.

With the grace of a ballet dancer, Cecilia spun around to the teacher, finding him standing a few steps below her, eyes moving over the open page of her sketchbook, a look of mixed shock and confusion etched into his eyebrows.

For a long moment, Cecilia stared at the man in front of her.

He had snatched that book from her hands so fast that her brain hadn't had the time to register it going missing…

Just who was this man?

The man finally raised his gaze to look at her.

"Have you seen these symbols before?" he asked, sounding almost accusing.

Cecilia frowned at the tone of his voice.

“No, they’re just doodles,” she answered, taking her sketchbook back from his hands. She looked over the symbols again before glancing at the man. “What?” she asked. “Have you seen them before?”

Mr. Salafay looked at her for a long moment, obviously going through his answer in his head.

He didn't get the chance to answer her as the front door opened.

"Ceci! I'm home." Jennifer called out as she stepped into the house.

Seeing the teacher turn around to greet her mother, Cecilia decided to take the opportunity to slip away, the mere presence of the man sending an uncomfortable sensation through her entire body.

"Miss Brandet," Salafay called out as Cecilia's hand landed on her door handle, forcing her to pause as she turned her head just the tiniest bit in his direction, showing that she was listening. "I would hope that you think about joining my class in the future."

For a moment, Cecilia just stood there.

Then, she opened her door and disappeared up to her bedroom.

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May 4

Monday 2215

Cecilia stood in front of her mirror, the front of her blouse pulled up as she gently cleaned the skin around the stitches on her stomach, trying to ignore the feel of the blemish every time her fingers brushed over it. Groaning slightly, she reached for the bio-material roll, cutting off a square and carefully applied it over the wound.

As always, she watched with interest as the material blended in with her skin, leaving behind the unblemished skin she would rather have in place of the stitched up wound.

"What happened?"

The voice had come so suddenly that it took all of Cecilia's training among her fellow students to not let out a scream as she spun around, almost jamming her blouse down.

"Do you knock?!" she almost screamed, staring at the foreigner.

The teacher has lived in their house for two whole days now, and so far all he had done is make Cecilia all the more suspicious with his presence. She'd lost count of how many times she'd heard the man either hint or outright suggest that she should sign up for his future course.

The more he insisted she should, the less interested she was.

Salafay only gave her an incredulous look, motioning with a hand towards her stomach.

"What happened?" he asked again.

Cecilia let out a sigh, readjusting her blouse as she turned back towards the mirror.

"A misadventure with a prop gun loaded with blanks," Cecilia answered with a sigh, walking over to her desk where her bag was waiting for her, trying to ignore the teachers gaze drilling into her back.

She didn't need to see the man to know the question brewing in his mind.

The man was shrouded in a veil of mystery, and Yet… certain things about him were rather easy to read.

Threading her arm through the straps of her bag, Cecilia turned around towards the teacher.

"Why are you here?" she asked, giving the teacher a rather bored look. "If you're a teacher, aren't you supposed to be at school before I am?" she waved her hands in the air to the man.

Salafay looked at her for a moment before a small smirk spread across his mouth.

"Tomorrow, I will be," his hand submerged into his pocket as he walked up to her. "But I got you something that I wanted to give you before you left."

Cecilia's eyes narrowed, watching the man walk up to her.

"What is it?"

Slowly, the man pulled out a small, carved crystal bottle with what looked like a white gold screw-on top. It was about the size of the center of his palm, in which the bottle lay as he held it out towards her, looking right at her as she took in his glittering little offering. It was filled with something, something thick, glossy and black and Cecilia didn't need to think too long before she knew what it was.

Ink.

Why was this man giving her ink?

Slowly, Cecilia raised her eyes to look at the man.

"What..?" she muttered, suddenly finding it difficult to structure her words.

"It's special ink imported from Italy." The man told her, turning the bottle over in his hand, the light caught onto the crystal, making it shine in all the colors of the rainbow. "It's made of a special mineral that I think will give a different effect to your works."

For a long moment, Cecilia just stared at the bottle.

"Why are you giving me this?" she was rather scared to actually take the bottle.

Salafay only sighed, taking another step towards her.

"I don't want us to be on odd ends with one another." He said, taking her wrist into his free hand and raising it, palm-up in between them. "Think of this as a peace offering." He put the bottle into her much smaller hand, allowing her to feel just how large it actually was before he folded her fingers around it. Much of the bottle could still be seen when held in her own, whilst it had been completely swallowed by Salafay's hand.

With a nod, the teacher descended the stairs, exiting her bedroom with no more words.

For a moment, Cecilia just stared after him, bottle still clutched in her hand before she realized that she actually had somewhere to be. And so, she turned back towards her desk, slipping the bottle into one of the drawers of spare fabrics (in case she feels she wants to alter some of her father's gifted clothes), allowing it to rest atop a pillow of soft materials where she was sure nothing too serious would happen to it before she closed the drawer.

----------------------------------------

It had been hard work, dragging herself out the door and forcing each and every step as she almost stumbled to school. She suspected that she must have looked odd to the other people on the sidewalks, and even those sitting comfortably in the magna-vehicles that zoomed past her as she walked.

She knew that Ben had promised her that her school experience would be better when she returned, and she knew that he would try and keep his words on that because he wasn’t the type of guy to do anything halfheartedly, but there was only so much one could do when you can only really keep track on the one class and with them being in different divisions, there were plenty of courses that they took separately.

She just hoped for everything pure that Kenneth Hale had put up a stronger search for anything potentially harmful and pulled strings to lessen bullying whilst she was gone.

Sure enough, when she got to the gates of the school, she was met with one of the many black-clad members of the disciplinary committee.

She didn’t know his name, but apparently, he recognized her.

“We need to check your bag for weapons,” he said, nodding towards the bag hanging over her shoulder. He had this kind look in his eyes, almost as if he was feeling sorry for having to ask her of all people that question.

He held his hand out towards her.

“If you please.” he almost sounded cautious.

It was a strange sight, seeing as the disciplinary committee usually made a point to look strong and imposing, “encouraging” the students to obey the rules of the building and the town. This one was looking as though he was asking his little sister to show her his bad at his parent's orders, it was mind-boggling.

She gave him a gentle smile, allowing her bag to slide down her arm into her hand, closing her fingers around the straps as she lifted it up, holding it towards the older student.

Giving the bag a quick look-through, the disciplinary committee member handed the bag back, looking almost sheepish.

Of course, no one but Cecilia noticed this.

She was the only one that wasn’t petrified from fear whenever one of those black coats appeared around the corner.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” the teen offered with a short bow.

She shook her head slightly at his words., brushing her hair behind her ear as she put the bag back on her shoulder.

In school, Cecilia always made an effort to appear as small as possible, to try and direct the attention away from her as much as possible (which really wasn’t all that much), but now, she was slowly straightening out her shoulders to look the elder student right in the eye (something that was very rare).

“No inconvenience,” she assured him, she could see the flash of shock in his eyes at the very rare sound of her voice. “I may be the only one who appreciates this.”

The young man gave her a look of calm understanding, nodding lightly before he jerked his head to the side, indicating that she should get a move on.

And she did.

Aside from the bag check, the first real change that hit Cecilia as she stepped through the school gates, was on the electronic notice-board, where a particularly large notice was flashing in bright, vibrant colors, gaining the attention of every student that passed it.

NEW OPTIONAL COURSE ADDED TO THE SCHOOL!

A.A.

The meaning behind the name, as well as the meaning of the course, shall only be revealed to the students accepted to the course, hand-picked by the new teacher, Luke Salafay.

Those interested in trying out for the new class, please report to classroom 3-G in the west wing after your regular classes have ended, Mr. Salafay keeps his door open at all hours so feel free to just drop in.

Cecilia couldn’t help the frown that slowly etched itself onto her eyebrows.

A.A…

What kind of a pretentious name for a class was that?

And THIS was the class that Mr. Salafay was so insistent on her trying out for?

The thought didn’t really sit well with her.

She could see several students gathered at the bottom of the notice-board, so obviously, the course had some level of interest from the student body. But as far as Cecilia was concerned, unless the teacher himself dragged her to the classroom, she sure wouldn’t put her foot anywhere close to classroom 3-G.

Shaking her head, she turned her feet around, moving towards the school.