I let out a hitched breath, staring out from the glass walkway with a full view of the city skyline.

As I stood on St. Antonia Island, in the center of Shoreline City's East Bay, a surreal feeling washed over me. The cool breeze carried hints of the ocean and caused the leaves to rustle around me. It was a familiar scent, yet somehow different - as if something had been subtly infused into the air, serving as a constant reminder of this new world I now found myself in.

Today was my first official day at St. Antonia's Academy. The grand halls of the prestigious school towered in front of me, their mix of gothic and modern architecture leaving me awestruck. I slowed my pace as I walked down the pathway, passing by a statue of Saint Antonia and taking in the grandeur all around me. The immense size and luxury of the buildings made me feel small and out of place. As I joined the bustling crowd of students, I couldn't help but feel like an outsider among these rich kids with their vibrant hair colors and confident attitudes, almost like characters from a high-budget sci-fi show.

I felt out of place, a kid from Earth in a world of Terran luxury. The dark blazer felt stiff and foreign on my shoulders, its gold trim shining too brightly in the morning sun. I glanced down at my reflection in the stream beneath the walkway. A boy with faint bruises still fading from his face stared back at me, dressed in an outfit that screamed 'elite' yet felt like a costume.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and joined the crowd, stepping inside.

The Main Building of the academy was just as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside, if not more so. The high ceiling stretched above me, adorned with intricate frescoes depicting historic battles and mythical creatures. Portraits of distinguished alumni and faculty lined the walls, their eyes seemingly tracking my every move. The air was filled with the constant chatter of students, speaking in a variety of languages and laughing together.

As I made my way through the corridors, I couldn't help but feel like all eyes were on me. Whispers followed in my wake, some curious and others less friendly. I caught snippets of conversations mentioning 'Earth kid' and 'the scholarship guy.' It made me uneasy, but I pushed those thoughts aside and continued exploring.

The polished floors reflected the light from the ornate chandeliers above, making everything seem even more daunting. I could feel the weight of the gazes on me, some curious, others less friendly. But I focused on the map of the school I had memorized, determined not to get lost on my first day.

That's when I saw her.

She stood at the end of the hallway, surrounded by a group of students who hung on her every word. The girl I'd encountered after orientation was surrounded by adoring students, her charismatic presence drawing them in like moths to a flame. Even from a distance, I could feel the intensity of her energy. Our eyes met, and the hallway seemed to grow quieter as she stopped speaking and focused solely on me.

I couldn't deny that she was beautiful, with her long, silky black hair and piercing purple eyes. But beneath her stunning exterior was a steely determination that sent chills down my spine.

"Great..." I muttered under my breath.

I knew I had to keep my guard up around the girl... Caroline was it? Our last encounter hadn't gone well, and I wasn't sure if news of it had spread. But judging by the way she stared at me, it was clear that she saw me as nothing more than a nuisance.

I tried to keep walking, hoping to pass by without incident, but as I approached, the group around her parted, leaving a clear path between us. It was like walking into a lion's den, and I was the prey.

"Look who it is," Caroline said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "The little hero from Earth. Welcome to St. Antonia's Academy, Ikazuchi. I hope you find your time here... enlightening."

Caroline's words were like venom, designed to provoke and intimidate me. But I refused to show any signs of weakness or fear.

"Good morning, Caroline," I said, putting on an easy smile. "Nice to see you too."

Her narrowed eyes betrayed her surprise at my civil response. "What, no snappy self-righteous response grandstanding? I'm disappointed. You do have some peculiar timing, you know?"

Peculiar timing? I raised an eyebrow, my smile faltering for just a moment. What did she mean by that? But before I could ask, Caroline's entourage burst into laughter, as if sharing an inside joke that I wasn't privy to.

I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the turmoil brewing inside me. "Just trying to get to class. You know, the reason we're all here?"

A few people in her group chuckled at my light retort, but Caroline's demeanor remained unamused. She was like a predator, waiting for any sign of weakness to strike. "Oh, yes, certainly. Although… you should be careful, Ikazuchi. Not everyone here is as forgiving as I am."

Her words hung in the air, a clear warning. Her words sent a shiver down my spine, but I refused to let her see my fear. I had dealt with bullies before, and Caroline was no exception. I had to stand my ground.

But, I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to pick a fight.

I also knew better than to engage in a verbal pissing contest with someone like her in the middle of the corridor while everyone was watching. I'd already made that mistake, and doing it again would give her justification to leverage whatever status she had to make my life a living hell.

I met her gaze head-on, my voice steady as I replied, "Forgiving? That's an interesting choice of words, Caroline. But don't worry, I'm not here to make enemies. I'm just here for my education."

Caroline's eyes narrowed further, the intensity in them burning with a mixture of anger and curiosity. She leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "I hope you're telling the truth, Ikazuchi. For your own sake."

"Look, I'm going to go stick my nose into some books like the loser I am. I'll stay out of that pretty hair of yours if you promise not to make my life any more difficult than it needs to be," I said, my tone laced with a slight edge.

Caroline straightened up, her expression transforming into a smirk. "Oh, fine. I'll play nice, for now. Just remember, this is my domain, and I don't take kindly to newcomers who think they can waltz in and play hero. Especially someone... like you."

Her domain? Give me a break.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at Caroline's dramatics. It was clear that she thrived on power and control, but I wasn't about to let her intimidate me. I had come to St. Antonia's Academy for a reason, and it had nothing to do with seeking her approval.

"Thanks for the warning," I replied, fighting the urge to leave a sarcastic bite. "Well, if it's your domain, Caroline, I suppose I should have brought my dancing shoes. But don't worry, I'll do my best not to step on any toes. I'm just a kid looking to get through the day like everyone else."

Her smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance. "You're amusing, Ikazuchi. We'll see how long that lasts."

I shrugged and stepped forward, brushing past Caroline and her entourage. I could feel Caroline's sharp gaze following me until I was out of sight, but I didn't let it shake me. The hushed murmurs of her group echoed behind me, speculating about our interaction, but I ignored them. As I continued down the hallway, my heart raced with adrenaline and anger, but I refused to let it show on my face. This tense encounter had only been the beginning, and it set a troubling tone for my first day at this new school.

As I continued down the hallway, the imposing presence of St. Antonia's Academy enveloped me. The walls were adorned with grand tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and scholarly pursuits. Soft light spilled from ornate chandeliers, casting a warm glow upon the polished marble floors. The air was laced with the scent of aged books and the faint whispers of knowledge.

I quickened my pace, determined to put the encounter with Caroline behind me and focus on reaching my history class. The corridor seemed to stretch infinitely, lined with towering oak doors that led to various classrooms outfitted with hi-tech learning tools. Each door had a brass plaque affixed to it, indicating different subjects taught within.

I arrived early at my first class — a 'Comparative History' class taught by a Mr. Tillman. I stepped into the classroom, which seemed to blend the old and the new. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries depicting historical battles and mythical beasts, contrasting sharply with the sleek, holographic projectors that hung from the ceiling.

Three rows of desks, each equipped with a personal terminal, were arranged in a semi-circle facing a large digital blackboard at the front. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and old books, an oddly comforting aroma.

Students began to trickle in, their eyes casting curious glances in my direction. I could feel their scrutiny; some openly staring while others whispered to their friends. I chose a seat near the back on the door's side, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. But as more students entered, the whispers grew louder, and I caught snippets of their conversations.

"Isn't that the Earth kid who got into it with the Kong princess after getting singled out by the Duchess?"

"Yeah, heard he's on a scholarship. Must be smart, or lucky."

"You sure about that? Heard he was a bit of a hooligan. A bunch of people saw him covered in bruises with a scuffed uniform…"

Their words made me self-conscious, and I focused on the terminal in front of me, pretending to be absorbed in it. Mr. Tillman entered the room, a tall man with graying faded purple hair and a kind face set with sunken green eyes, but his presence did little to quell the murmurs.

As the room filled, Mr. Tillman cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. He smiled warmly, eyes scanning the room, stopping briefly at me before continuing.

"Good morning, class," Mr. Tillman greeted, his voice carrying a soothing melody. "I hope you all had a pleasant weekend and are ready to dive into the fascinating world of comparative history."

The room fell into a hushed silence, eager anticipation filling the air. I glanced around, noticing the varying expressions on my classmates' faces—some eager and attentive, others disinterested or preoccupied. But one thing was certain: Mr. Tillman commanded respect.

"Now," he continued, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm, "before we embark on our exploration of different civilizations and their unique historical narratives, I would like us to take a week or so to get to know one another. History is more than just dates and events. It is the stories of people, their triumphs and their struggles."

He walked over to the digital blackboard, tapping it lightly. The surface flickered to life, displaying a simple question in bold letters: "What does it mean to reason?"

The question hung in the air as Mr. Tillman turned to us, his expression serious yet inviting.

"Today, we're not going to start with dates or events, or what is typical of most history courses. Instead, we'll explore the very foundation of history itself – the art of reasoning. Understanding the world requires more than just memorizing facts; it requires thinking, questioning, and analysis. To do this, we shall return to the time of Aristotle and his methods of reasoning – specifically, the concepts of inductive and deductive thinking. Now, I do have a little thought experiment for you. Before we get into the specific rote definitions, I would like you to ponder on this for a bit."

The class fell silent, intrigued by this unconventional approach. Mr. Tillman paced in front of the blackboard, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Imagine," he began, "you are living in a world slightly different from ours. A world where the rotation of the planet is reversed, and the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. In this world, plants are blue, and the sky is green. Now, using this information, let's reason together. What might be the implications of these changes? How would they affect life on that world, and what can they tell us about our understanding of our own world? Forget any of the harder, materialistic changes such as atmospheric composition and pigmentation. Focus on the more… human side of things."

The room was silent, students deep in thought. I found myself drawn in by the exercise, my mind racing with the possibilities. It was an interesting contrast to the history classes I'd experienced growing up, where facts and anecdotes of events and figures were drilled into us without much thought for their broader implications. Mr. Tillman smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"I see you're all thinking hard on it already. That's good. This is what we'll be doing in this class – using history not just as a tool to record what happened, but as a means to understand why things happened, how they shaped our present, and what they can tell us about our future. Now, why don't you all pair up with a colleague next to you and discuss your thoughts on this scenario? Remember, there are no right or wrong answers here, just different perspectives."

I turned to the boy next to me, a tall guy with deep strawberry blond, almost peach-colored short hair and an aura of confidence that seemed out of place in a high school setting. "Hey, I'm Ikazuchi," I introduced myself with a hesitant smile, extending my hand.

He glanced at me briefly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and then looked away, ignoring my hand. Without a word, he stood up and moved to another desk, joining someone he seemed to know.

Stunned by the boy's reaction, I felt a sting at the blatant snub. I knew getting singled out as the kid from Earth by that Duchess back at orientation would make things difficult, but I hadn't anticipated this level of coldness. The whispers around me grew louder, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment and frustration. I clenched my fist under the desk, feeling a surge of anger. Being treated like this right out the gate was unfair when I was just another student like everyone else here.

Mr. Tillman sat back, looking at me once again with a compassionate gaze. He must have noticed the exchange between the boy and me, for he spoke up, his voice gentle yet firm.

"Of course, if your colleagues in proximity are otherwise engaged, you are free to a different seat and find a partner who is willing to engage in the discussion," Mr. Tillman suggested, his tone inclusive. "Remember, in this class, we value respect and open-mindedness. Let's create an environment where everyone feels heard and understood."

I took a deep breath, trying to push down the welling frustration. I was here to learn and make something of myself, not to win a popularity contest. My eyes wandered around the classroom, trying to find someone to sit next to. My heart sank when I realized that everyone had already formed their groups and there was no space for me.

That was until my eyes landed on a girl sitting alone on the other side of my row by the window.

She had short, black wavy hair tied up in a ponytail with a faint natural silver-like sheen, contrasting beautifully with her luminous green eyes. Her delicate features were accented by a somber expression, exuding an air of quiet loneliness.

She was dressed impeccably in her school uniform, but I couldn't help but notice the small touches that made her stand out. A delicate ribbon adorned her ponytail and another wrapped around her wrist. Her fingers played with a silver locket hanging from her neck, lost in her own thoughts. It was clear she was a musician, based on the plain black violin case beside her. On any other day, she would have blended into the crowds of Earth, but something about her had me captivated.

I wanted to approach her, but something stopped me. She seemed distant from the other students, almost like an outsider. Maybe she could understand my struggles and we could become friends? Or maybe she would just reject me like everyone in this school already did. My mind was torn between hope and fear as I watched her from afar.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked across the classroom to her desk. As I walked towards her, the sound of my heartbeat filled my ears, drowning out the whispers and murmurs in the classroom. With each step, my nervousness grew, but so did my determination. Her eyes were downcast as she fiddled with the locket, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

I cleared my throat softly, trying not to startle her. She glanced up, her eyes meeting mine, and for a split second, a flicker of surprise passed through her features. It was quickly replaced by a guarded expression, as if she expected me to mock or reject her. I blinked in surprise and quickly mustered a friendly smile, hoping to put her at ease.

"Hi, I'm Ikazuchi," I said, offering a tentative smile. "Looks like we're both in need of a partner for this, huh?"

She looked up, her widening green eyes magnified slightly behind her glasses, revealing a jolt of surprise. She just stared at me for a moment like she was trying to place me or figure out why I would approach her. Her gaze flickered to the locket in her hands and then back at me.

"N-natasha," she replied softly, her voice almost a whisper. She carefully closed the locket and tucked it under her shirt, out of sight but still resting close to her heart.

Relief washed over me as I took the seat next to her, placing my bag on the floor and glancing briefly over at her violin case.

"Nice to meet you. So, what do you think about Mr. Tillman's thought experiment? The whole 'different world' scenario? What would the world be like if the world spun in the opposite direction, the grass was blue, and the sky was green?"

Natasha's eyes flickered to mine, then down to her hands. She gave me a small, nervous smile, her fingers tracing absent-minded circles on the desk. "It's... an intriguing thought. I'd like a minute to deliberate on that," she said slowly. She had a soft and shy but measured tone, giving a sense that she put care in every thought. "The idea of a world with reversed natural phenomena, where everything we take for granted is turned upside down... It makes me wonder about the profound impact it would have on society."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Then, she looked up at me. "Well, what do you think it would be like, Ikazuchi?" she mumbled, staring down at her hands. I noticed her fingers were moderately callused - likely from hours and hours of practicing.

I smiled sheepishly for a moment, feeling her gaze fall back on me. "I think it would definitely change how people see their world, you know? Like, if the sun rose in the west, maybe people would have different religious frameworks and different stories. It would just be a literal change in perspective, I guess. If it were a given that the sun rose from the west and that grass is blue, how much does that really change? We could even pull it back to our own situation with Earth and Terra."

I paused, sweeping my eyes across the room and taking in the rainbow of colors from everyone's hair and eyes.

"I mean, just take the case of our worlds. Our genes are completely compatible, but the phenotypic expression is completely different, and we have hair and eye color combinations that exist on Terra but don't exist on Earth. From my understanding, our histories were almost identical until the 1200s, even 1300s and 1400s. Sure, all the artwork like the frescoes, sculptures, and period paintings depict historical figures like Charlemagne with different features. At the end of the day, though, we didn't really diverge until Chaos Beasts began to show up, you know? I think, at the end of the day, we'd still be people."

Natasha nodded slowly, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her locket. "Perspective... Hmm, so… I think I have something on that."

I leaned in closer, eager to hear Natasha's response. Something about her quiet demeanor drew me in. For some reason, I felt a sense of depth was hidden beneath the surface. She really seemed to think carefully before speaking.

"Do you know much about creating music, Ikazuchi? Or music theory?" Natasha whispered, tracing a finger over her violin case.

I shook my head. "I'm not really knowledgeable about music, no. Well, I do know some basic things they'd teach you over on Earth for elementary school - like what the basic notes and scales are and how different songs sound the way they are because of their structures and keys. Why do you ask?"

Natasha's eyes seemed to light up slightly, a faint smile playing at the edges of her lips. "Well, I'd just like to draw an analogy here for context and perspective, then. When playing and creating music, practically speaking, there are musical notes that are exactly the same. An individual C-Sharp is the same as a D-flat. But, how they fit into the structure of a piece or song based on its key signature changes entirely."

She paused, searching for the right words to explain her thoughts.

"Take for example, a piece composed in the key of D-major. The note C-Sharp is harmonic, it fits. But if the piece were in E-flat major, then playing a C-Sharp in the middle of a melody would sound dissonant, it clashes. The note doesn't change, but its context and impact do. It's like your idea of perspective. The physical reality doesn't change, but the meaning and interpretation can shift drastically."

I listened, fascinated. The comparison to music made sense in a way I hadn't considered before. "So, you're saying that even if the physical aspects of the world remained the same, the cultural and societal interpretations would be different? Like, the same note but in a different key?"

"Yes, exactly," Natasha said, her voice growing stronger like she was shaking off the funk and emerging from a shell she was in. "In a world where the grass is blue, and the sky is green, maybe most things would stay the same. However, I think we'd place different cultural values and associations on them. Colors carry symbolic meanings, right? So, blue grass might not just be a visual change but could alter how people connect with nature or perceive the environment. You could argue that it wouldn't have mattered as much if random people in history were green-haired or yellow-haired, except for how they captured the imagination."

Her comment sparked a new thought in my mind. "That makes sense. Like how on Earth, green is often associated with growth and harmony. But if grass was blue, maybe that color would take on those meanings instead. So when it comes to art and aesthetics… artists might use colors differently to convey emotions or ideas."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Exactly! Artists would have a whole new palette to work with, and it would completely revolutionize the way they create and express themselves. Just imagine all the vibrant paintings and sculptures that could come from a world where the grass is blue and the sky is green. It would be a visual feast for the senses indeed."

I couldn't help but get caught up in Natasha's enthusiasm. "And what about music?" I asked, leaning in closer. "How would that change in this sort of world?"

She jolted in surprise as I gestured at the violin case. "I mean you play after all, right?"

She blushed tomato red before quickly composing herself. A mischievous smile played on Natasha's lips as she opened her violin case and carefully retrieved the instrument. She cradled it lovingly in her hands.

"In a world where the sky and grass are flipped… I definitely think music would also undergo a transformation. The melodies, harmonies, and rhythms we're familiar with might sound completely different. Composers would have to rethink their compositions to fit the changed landscape of this world. After all, visual art, poetry, and music are intrinsically linked, aren't they? They all reflect the world we live in, in one way or another. So, in a world where the sky is green and grass is blue, even the sound of music might carry a different emotion, a different story."

Her fingers lightly touched the strings of her violin, a faraway look in her eyes. "Music is a reflection of the soul, of the world we live in. If the world changes, the music changes with it. The emotions it evokes, the stories it tells... all of it shifts to match the new reality."

I nodded, fascinated by her perspective. "So, like the way green represents growth on Earth, music would adapt to represent the new norms and values of this altered world. The emotional palette of music would shift to reflect the changed environment."

"Yes," Natasha said, a hint of sadness flickering in her eyes. "Music adapts, just like people do. We change to fit the world around us, for better or worse."

I noticed how her fingers lingered on the locket around her neck, the sadness in her eyes deepening for a moment.

"That's why I think perspective is important," she continued softly. "We see the world through the lens of our experiences, our beliefs. That shapes how we interpret everything around us. And sometimes, we need to step back and try to see things from a different angle. Maybe then we can understand each other a little better."

I sat back, mulling over her words. Natasha's perspective on the world was different from mine; it was more introspective and nuanced in a way. Her experiences had clearly shaped her into someone who saw the world in abstract layers, each filled with meaning and emotion.

"But what about you, Ikazuchi?" Natasha asked, her gaze returning to the present. "What's your perspective on all this? How do you see the world? Anything you can pick up that's… a bit different from that?"

I hesitated, considering her question. "I've always been someone who values practicality, but that doesn't mean I don't see the complexity and depth in things. Like, in this scenario with the world turned upside down, I think about how it would practically affect people's lives. Sure, artists and musicians would adapt and create new forms of expression, but what about the everyday person? How would their daily routines change? How would their beliefs and customs evolve?"

Natasha listened intently, her eyes fixed on mine. She seemed genuinely curious about my perspective, as if my words held a key to unlocking a different layer of understanding. And so, I continued.

"I mean, as someone who has travelled from Earth to Terra, I find myself constantly thinking about basic needs like food and fuel. Like, if we grew up on this flipped world just considering the sun… If the sun were to rise from the west, well I can't think of anything off the top of my head that avoids the hard science of it. As much as Mr. Tillman asked for it, it's hard for me to avoid thinking about those things. The implications for agriculture and evolution would be massive, and even the formation and movement of tectonic plates would be drastically different. In such a scenario, our daily lives would be unrecognizable. But if we didn't account for all that and everything miraculously stayed the same - who knows how our daily lives would be different? Maybe our sleep patterns would change, or maybe our daily routines and rituals would be based on a completely different set of natural phenomena. It's hard to tell with a prompt like that."

Natasha listened intently, her expression thoughtful. "That's an interesting point. I guess I didn't really jump immediately to the practical, day-to-day aspects. It's easy to get lost in the artistic and philosophical implications, but I guess staying grounded in reality is much more important than that."

I shook my head with a smile, "No, I think I'd even disagree with that. We always need people to push the boundaries, you know? Staying grounded in reality doesn't mean that the artistic and philosophical implications should be disregarded. My Dad always stresses that he might crank pipes and keep the gas generators going, but if there's no beauty in the world, there's no hope for a better future. It's the artists, musicians, and dreamers who remind us of that beauty and give us hope. So, while practicality is important, we also need to cherish the intangible aspects of life that make it worth living."

I smiled and stood up from my my chair, gazing out at the world beyond the window. The school grounds were bathed in the soft morning sunlight, casting a golden hue on the green grass. The vibrant colors seemed to dance and sway with the gentle breeze, creating a picturesque scene that captured my attention.

"Case in point," I said, gesturing toward the window. "Look at how the green grass contrasts against the blue sky. It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?"

Natasha's joined me at the window with her violin in hand, and her eyes widened curiously as she contemplated my words. I couldn't help but feel a connection forming between us, as if our perspectives were merging to create a more holistic understanding of the world in this weird little opening assignment.

"You know, I'd never expect something like this from someone my age," Natasha said, breaking the silence that had briefly settled between us. "Usually, conversations in class are pretty half-hearted. This is different, but nice."

I smiled at her words, feeling a warmth spreading within me. "Well, I can relate. I guess we're both just a bit kooky then. And sometimes, it takes finding someone who sees the world on a similar but different wavelength to truly appreciate that sort of stuff."

"What sort of life did you lead on your home before coming here, Ikazuchi?" Natasha asked, her voice filled with curiosity as she continued to gaze out of the window. "How was your perspective formed?"

Natasha's question caught me off guard, and I hesitated for a moment before responding. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, reflecting on the life I had left behind. "It's like... in my life, I had a reasonably calm upbringing, all in all. I grew up with a little sister to look after. We got to go to school. More importantly, we got to grow up in a neighborhood in a city with a proverbial village around us. But, my family had to focus a lot on survival, on getting by day to day. Going out beyond the city limits where the generators had little coverage to make enough from scrap to get by was always tough. However, that never stopped me from dreaming, from thinking about what could be. It's balancing between what's real and what's possible that keeps us moving forward at the end of the day. We can't ever stop shooting for our dreams."

My eyes met her shimmering green orbs again, and I couldn't help but notice how Natasha's mood seemed to shift. The initial sadness and emptiness in her eyes was replaced by a flicker of curiosity and engagement. It was like watching a light slowly come back on, a slow rekindling of some inner fire that had been dampened.

Natasha's gaze drifted back to the locket, her fingers brushing against it gently before looking back into my eyes.

"But… don't you think that sometimes we have to let go of those silly notions of dreams and focus on the reality of things? Sometimes, holding onto hope can hurt more than letting it go. The world isn't always kind to dreamers."

I tilted my head, considering her words. "Maybe, but isn't it those dreams that push us to change things? Sure, the world can be harsh, but without hope, without dreams, aren't we just accepting things as they are? I believe we need to hold onto that hope, fight for it even when things get tough."

Natasha sighed, a trace of weariness in her voice. "You sound a lot like someone I used to know," she murmured, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the locket. "She was all about hope and dreams too. But sometimes, reality catches up, and dreams... they just don't stand a chance."

I leaned forward, intrigued by the hint of a deeper story in her words. "I think dreams change, adapt, like music in your analogy. They might not always come true in the way we expect, but they guide us, shape us into who we are. Maybe they're more resilient than we give them credit for."

Natasha looked at me, a faint smile curving her lips. "You're an optimist, aren't you, Ikazuchi?"

I chuckled softly. "Maybe. My dad always says it's better to light a candle than curse the darkness. It was a family motto passed down by his gramps. I guess I took that to heart. I mean, our dreams are usually unreachable, but they're dreams for a reason."

Natasha's smile widened, and a spark of recognition flickered in her eyes as she giggled. "You know, Ikazuchi, maybe you're right. Maybe holding onto that stuff isn't such a bad thing after all."

There was a moment of silence as we both contemplated those words. The room seemed to hold its breath as if waiting for something more to be said.

A sudden faint chirp rang through my head as Rai-Chan interrupted my thoughts. "Ikki, I did not wish to interrupt... but it appears you two have attracted an audience. Your philosophical musings and gesticulations appear to be more popular than you may anticipated."

I blinked, a bit startled, and glanced around the room. Sure enough, the students closest to us were looking our way, their expressions a mix of silent curiosity and surprise. A couple of the students on the other side even started whispering to each other, no doubt commenting on the unusual sight of the new Earth kid deep in conversation with the quiet, introspective girl in the corner.

I felt a flush of embarrassment spread across my cheeks, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Natasha's face turn a shade of tomato red as she followed my gaze. She quickly looked down, focusing intently on her violin as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, I turned back to Natasha, lowering my voice. "Er, sorry about that. I guess I got a little too animated. Not exactly how I planned to start my first day here."

Natasha gave a small, nervous laugh. "I guess we're both off to a weird start here, huh? Well, um... let's just say they were avoiding me for a reason, and settling in here has been rough. Thanks for coming over here to be my partner, by the way."

Weird start?

That would be an understatement. My first week at St. Antonia's was a whirlwind of emotions. And I'd literally been kidnapped and used as a hostage.

It wasn't even the end of my first class yet, and I had a feeling I'd been put on the personal shit list by someone who appeared to be our cohort's queen bee. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I didn't quite fit in, like trying to put a square peg into a round hole. But talking to Natasha made me feel better. It was comforting to connect with someone who seemed to share the same feelings of being out of place as I did.

"I guess so," I replied, smiling. "But hey, weird can be good, right? It means we're not just going through the motions. We're actually living, experiencing things differently."

Natasha looked up, her eyes meeting mine. There was a glimmer of something in them – a mixture of curiosity, gratitude, and relief. "Yeah, weird can be good," she agreed softly. "I definitely didn't expect a conversation like this today. Honestly, I had a pretty rough morning. Rough week, for that matter, so it's… refreshing."

Our conversation drifted to lighter topics, like music and our plans school life, as we tried to keep our voices down. I learned that Natasha had played the violin since she was little and that music was her escape, expressing emotions she couldn't put into words. She'd played multiple instruments, including the guitar, flute, and several instruments from around the world. Her passion for music was evident in every word and every gesture she made. It was inspiring, really, seeing someone so dedicated to their art.

As for me, I talked about my life back on Earth, my family, and my dreams for the future. I didn't go into too much detail about the darker parts, the struggles and fears, the Chaos Beasts lurking in the distance. That was a story for another time, perhaps. For now, it was enough to share the lighter parts, the hopes and dreams. I was going to meet the Robotics Team later in the week, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within me. It was a chance to pursue my passion for technology, to create something meaningful, and maybe even make a difference in this new world. I wanted to change my family's circumstances and give them a better life, one where they didn't have to worry about survival every single day. The thought of building robots and using technology to solve problems ignited a spark of determination within me. I wanted to show Natasha that dreams could come true, even in the face of adversity.

Natasha listened intently, her eyes bright with interest as I spoke about my plans. "That sounds amazing," she said softly. "To be able to use your skills and knowledge to shape the future... It's a privilege."

"Yeah… my background is in total amateur level basic stuff back at home. I've never had the chance to work with magitech, so I'm really excited about it," I admitted, a hint of pride in my voice. "I've always been fascinated by how technology can change lives, you know? It's like... there's this whole world of possibilities just waiting to be explored."

Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I can see that. I'm no tech girl, but I dabble a bit in stuff here and there. There's something really special about being able to create and innovate. It's like you're part of something bigger, something that can really make a difference. I... just wish I could do something like that and make a difference before it's all said and done."

I smiled, feeling a sense of kinship with Natasha. Despite our different backgrounds and interests, a common thread connected us – the desire to make an impact, to leave our mark on the world in our own unique way.

As the class ended, Mr. Tillman's voice broke through our conversation. "Alright, everyone, that's all for today. For your assignment, I expect you all to leave some notes about what you discussed today on the class's board by 10 p.m tonight. Be ready to share your insights in our next class."

Natasha and I gathered our things, standing up from our desks. There was an awkward pause as we both seemed unsure what to say next. Finally, I broke the silence.

"Hey, Natasha, it was really great talking to you. I know it was for class and all, but I hope we can do it again sometime."

She smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes.

"I'd like that, Ikazuchi. It was nice to have someone to talk to about this sort of thing."

As we walked out of the classroom, I suddenly remembered something. "Oh, by the way, my friends call me Ikki, not Ikazuchi. It's kind of a... nickname that everyone defaults to at the end. So, I thought I'd just get ahead of that."

"Ikki it is then," she said with a contagious giggle. "I'll make sure to remember that, Ikki. See you around, then."

She tilted her head and gave me a wave, her violin case slung over her shoulder. With that, she brushed her hair to the side headed off down the hallway, disappearing into the flow of students.

I watched her go, a smile lingering on my lips. The weight of the day seemed to lift just a little, replaced with a newfound sense of hope. Maybe St. Antonia's wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I could find my place here, among the misfits and dreamers. I turned around and began to head off for my next class — multivariable calculus.

My mind was still buzzing with thoughts of the conversation I had with Natasha. It was refreshing to connect with someone who shared a similar outlook on life, someone who understood the desire to make a difference.

"Ikki, perhaps it would have been prudent to ask for her contact information?" Rai-chan chimed in my head

I stopped in my tracks, mentally kicking myself. How could I have forgotten something like that? I sighed, shaking my head.

I turned around and hurried back towards the classroom, hoping to catch Natasha before she got too far. But when I reached the doorway, she was already gone, lost in the sea of students rushing to their next classes. I scanned the crowd, trying to spot her short, wavy ponytail and the violin case, but it was no use. She had vanished into the throng of students, leaving me feeling disappointed.

"Missed opportunity, Ikki," Rai-chan commented wryly. "It matters not, you have Comparative History with her again on Thursday."

I sighed, turning away from the classroom. "Yeah, I know. I'll get it later in the week, I guess." I started walking towards my next class, weaving through the bustling corridors.

As I pushed through the sea of students, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had missed something important. Natasha had been a surprising breath of fresh air in a place where I felt like an outsider. I'd always found it a bit difficult to connect with people around my age, and getting a conversation like that going had really lifted my mood.

Lost in my thoughts, I let out a yelp as I crashed directly into a wall of lean muscle. I looked up, ready to apologize, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Sheesh. You're really making this a habit out of that, aren't you?"

Midori stood a head over me, wearing what I would describe as her trademark grin and her hands in her blazer pockets. I remembered the life-threatening injuries she had suffered just last week, saving me from the kidnappers at the pier. It was a scene I couldn't forget, yet here she was, exuding the same confident charm and energy she did last week, looking no worse for wear.

"Mornin', Ikki!" she greeted cheerfully, her voice carrying a chirpy twang. "Glad to see you around this morning."

I stared at her, my mind racing. How was she here, looking so... normal? Wasn't she supposed to be recovering or at least showing some signs of... well, multiple gunshot and slash wounds?

"Midori... how are you here? I mean, last time I saw you, you were—" I started, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, that little scuffle? Don't worry about it, Ikki. I'm tougher than I look!" she said with a wink. Her casual dismissal of what had been a life-or-death situation left me speechless.

Before I could press further, she leaned in closer, her grin widening. "So, how's your first day going? Making any interesting friends yet?"

I hesitated, thinking about my conversation with Natasha. "Yeah, actually, I did meet someone... interesting," I admitted.

Midori's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh? Do tell!"

But before I could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of the break. Students around us started moving faster, heading to their next classes, drowning out my voice.

"Hmph. Looks like we'll have to save that story for later. Gotta jet!" Midori said, stepping back. "How 'bout I catch you at the lunchroom later? What are your free timeslots?"

"Er... my schedule's open between eleven and one," I replied, still processing Midori's sudden appearance and her nonchalant attitude towards her injuries.

Midori grinned. "Perfect! I'll track you down then. We've got a lot to catch up on. See ya, Ikki!" she said with a wink.

With that, she spun around and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing there in a daze. The encounter with Midori had only added to the already surreal nature of my first day at St. Antonia's.

Her sudden appearance left me with a whole lot of questions, and the feeling of missing something suddenly welled up in my chest.

But there was no time to dwell on it now. I had to make my way to calculus class, a subject that never failed to drain the life out of me.

Even thinking about derivatives and integrals was making my head spin, much less wrapping my head around whatever happened last week on orientation day.