Maki clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious. “Great! Now, let’s continue,” she said, her tone bright. “With a new name and a good attitude, you can bring back your school life.”

Aric nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. “What should my new name be?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, then grinned. “How about Ren?”

He stopped, thinking for a second. “If it's okay, I would rather take another name.”

“What do you have in mind?” She asked.

“Yamamoto. Yamamoto Aric.”

Maki put a finger on her chin, thinking. “Yamamoto… I’ve heard that name somewhere,” she mused, but then she shook her head and smiled. “No matter. Let’s get going, Yamamoto. We need to hurry, or we’ll be late!”

As they reached school, Aric noticed a few stray petals caught in Maki's hair. "Wait," reaching out to gently brush the petals from her hair.

Maki smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Aric."

With a nod, they continued on their way to the classroom.

As they reached the classroom, Aric found himself standing by the blue door, a bit scared to open it. Maki had already gone in before him, her presence now missing beside him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.

All the bad memories from school flashed before his eyes—taunts, isolation, the weight of the rumors. He realized that it was the first time he had gone to school on a Thursday in two years. The significance of the moment hit him hard, making him hesitate even more.

But then he thought of Maki’s words and her unwavering support. Summoning all the courage he had, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

The whispers started immediately as Aric walked in, a wave of murmurs and curious glances sweeping through the room. He could feel the weight of their stares, the judgment in their eyes. His heart pounded, but he tried to push the fear aside.

Aric forced a smile, trying to project confidence, though it felt awkward and strained. A few laughs erupted in the room, but he pressed on, making his way to the teacher.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "I... I am the new student."

The teacher glanced at him, then took a step back in surprise. She quickly cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “Oh, yes, of course,” she said, a slight smile forming. She had never smiled at him like that before. “Please introduce yourself to the class.”

Aric nodded, stepping forward. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude making her smile wider. He turned to face his classmates, feeling their eyes on him.

“My name is Yamamoto Aric,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Aric?” the whole class echoed in unison, their surprise mingled with skepticism.

Aric took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. “Yes, Aric is my surname,” he confirmed. He heard all of the students take a collective breath. “I look forward to meeting and learning everyone’s name.”

There was a pause, the room filled with murmurs and sideways glances. He could hear the skepticism in their voices. “Transfer student–?”

But then, a couple of girls in the back whispered, “He looks unique. Handsome, even.”

Another voice chimed in, “Yeah, but he’s so pale.”

Aric felt his face flush a deep red, embarrassed by the unexpected compliments. He managed a small, awkward smile, glancing at Maki, who seemed occupied with other matters.

The teacher looked around the room, then pointed to an empty seat. “You can sit there, Yamamoto,” she said. As he made his way to the seat, he could hear the murmurs of his classmates.

“Where did Aric go?” one student wondered aloud.

“He was probably expelled,” another replied.

Aric sat down, trying to ignore the whispers and curious glances. The teacher clapped her hands to get the class’s attention. “Alright, everyone, let’s begin. Today, we’ll be discussing the history of magic.”

The teacher cleared her throat and began the lesson. “I came from the city, where technology is vast. However, there is one art that most people practice in urban areas compared the the town we live in now. Can anyone guess what that this?” No one spoke up.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She sighed, continuing. “It might come as a shock, but this world is multidimensional, existing in a vast, intricate web of realities since the beginning of time. However, some realms lacked balance, and so, planes like ours gave its species the ability to connect with the atmosphere to circulate this unbalanced energy.”

Aric listened intently, the lesson serving as a welcome distraction from the tension he felt. The teacher continued, “Ancient humans, seeking to harness this energy, would meditate for years, often facing harsh conditions and even freezing to death. Yet, those who survived gained immense power as a result of constantly circulating this energy. This led to the emergence of the Primordial eight mages.”

She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in. “Each of these mages had one child except for two, and their disciples took these methods and cultivated them to a lesser degree. This created arcane pathways that were passed down to their descendants. Over time, the evolution cycle led to one’s arcane prowess being dependent on their true nature and personality, with a minor influence from their origin.”

The teacher’s voice rose as she concluded, “But with the rise of modern technology, these ancient practices have faded in importance. However, it’s crucial to understand our roots so that we do not forget them.”

She laughed matter-of-factly, as she always did before she said something completely out of context. “At least, that's what the school wants me to say. Construction, magic, consumerism, transportation, and communication have been revolutionized with technology. This information is now irrelevant, because anyone with a single inch of magical talent, can now cast.”

Someone raised their hand. “Can these ancient methods still be used today?”

The teacher smiled, clearly pleased by his engagement. “Yes, they can. Although!” She said, while slamming her hands on the blackboard. “It's absolutely nothing compared to what we have now. Maybe even useless!”

The lesson continued, but his thoughts remained on the ancient mages and their descendants. Perhaps, he thought, meditation was the answer.

“So that's why I have removed such nonsensical methods from our final test. Now, onto the main lesson.”

Aric couldn't focus as he was primarily trying his best to not stare out of the window.

When the bell finally rang for a break, Aric was lost in his thoughts, staring blankly ahead. He didn’t notice the crowd forming around him until someone flicked his head. He turned around, startled, to see a group of students gathered around his desk.

“Hey, new kid,” the guy who had tormented him everyday said, leaning in closer. “What’s your deal?”

Another student chimed in, “Yeah, where did you come from?”

Aric’s mind raced, trying to keep up with the barrage of questions. He glanced around, looking for an escape route, but there was none.

“Why are you so pale? Are you sick or something?”

He swallowed hard, feeling a wave of anxiety. “Uh, no, I’m not sick. Just… dealing with some stuff,” he managed to say.

A girl with curious eyes asked, “Do you want to eat lunch with us?”

Aric hesitated, the pressure mounting. He took a deep breath. “My name is Yamamoto, I've come from a heavy family situation, and I came here to escape them. I hope we all can become good friends and…”

Just then, the same boy who had thrown him against the desk rose up. “Do you know about the kid who used to sit in your chair?” he asked, a malicious glint in his eye.

Aric’s heart sank as the other students began to mutter and hiss insults. He felt that familiar emptiness creeping back. Emotionlessly, he asked, “Why do you bring him up?”

The boy smirked. “His surname was your first name. Are you related or something? You both have that same pale skin.”

The whispers grew louder, and Aric could feel the weight of their suspicion and judgment. “Yeah, we were wondering the same thing,” another student added, looking at Aric with narrowed eyes.

Aric’s face remained expressionless as he tried to keep his composure. “I was paid to take his place by the Bounty Hunters,” he finally said, his voice steady but cold. “But they couldn’t find a perfect replica, so I had to do.”

The guy’s expression turned from curiosity to anger. “You know about the roach,” he spat, his face contorted with rage. Before Aric could react, the guy slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the suddenly silent classroom.

Aric staggered, his cheek burning from the blow. The room was filled with shocked gasps and murmurs, the tension palpable. The feeling was way too familiar.

He tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through his body, the old injuries flaring up. Aric felt a warm trickle down his face and realized his nose was bleeding again. The familiar feeling of helplessness washed over him, but he fought to stay upright.

The classroom erupted into murmurs, as no one was brave enough to confront him.

He remembered his master’s words: "Stand up for yourself." Summoning all his courage, Aric swung at the guy, but his blow had no power behind it. His hand was effortlessly pushed aside, and he was pummeled into the wall. The impact sent another wave of pain through his body, but he tried to stand up again, determination burning in his eyes.

Just as the guy cocked his fist for another punch, Maki stepped in between them. "Laric! Stop!" she shouted. "Leave him alone!”

Aric's head throbbed, but he heard Maki's voice cut through the chaos. "Laric! Stop!" she shouted. "Leave him alone!”

Laric's face twisted with rage as he looked at her. “Miyako?”

Maki glared at him, her eyes blazing. “Are you completely insane? This is exactly why I would never date a pig like you.”

Laric's face turned a mixture of red and purple before he slumped, sadness replacing his anger. He turned away, defeated. The classmates around them murmured in confusion and concern.

"Are you okay, Yamamoto?" someone asked, but Aric didn't care. He pushed past them, his vision blurry with a lack of feeling, and walked out of the classroom.

He could feel the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His hands were trembling too much to wipe it away. Aric’s head felt like it was ringing, the world around him a blur. He kept moving, barely aware of his surroundings, until he found himself at the stairwell.

Step by step, Aric ascended the stairs, each movement sending jolts of pain through his battered body. When he finally reached the rooftop, he pushed open the door and stepped out into the open air. The cool breeze hit his face hard.

Aric slumped by a pillar, taking a breather. He thought about how he used to be completely numb to such pain and humiliation, but now, he felt a lot more emotional turmoil for some reason. The faces, the whispers, the blow—it all seemed to cut deeper.