To say that Schrodinger was “just” having a bad day was an understatement.

He was not just having a bad day. He was, in fact, miserable. Or at least as miserable as he thought he could possibly be.

Because Kali was not the type of girl that was graceful in her victory. Oh no. There were days when Schrodinger thought she was completely unable to be graceful at all, regardless of the context. However, much like she was not one to let an insult go, she definitely wouldn’t allow an opportunity to gloat pass her by either.

Which meant, of course, that she took it upon herself to make Schrodinger’s morning as unpleasant as possible. Even after they arrived at school, she took every opportunity to mock, taunt, and generally annoy him in whatever way she could. To the point that, as they neared the end of the last class, his seat was surrounded by the dozens of paper balls she had thrown at him throughout the morning. All of them with some sort of drawing of a sad cat, fire, or a sad cat on fire in it.

Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that the girl sat a few desks behind him, and that they were in the same classroom at all to begin with. In fact, he actually feared that she would try to set his tail on fire at some point.

But his bad mood wasn’t just Kali’s fault. Granted, she was making it worse than it needed to be. However, he had more reasons to scowl than just Kali’s latest attempt at driving him up a wall.

Specifically, he also hated the classes he was having that day.

Schrodinger didn’t hate school in general. That didn’t mean he loved it, or that he even performed as well as some of his classmates. But he also did not hate it like some of the other children did. And normally, he was quite capable of paying enough attention to get passing grades. Or at least to get good enough grades for his mom not to nag at him so much.

However, that only applied to most classes.

Because even though he could do well enough in most classes, there was one subject in particular that he just couldn’t. In fact, there was one class in particular that he simply hated. That he disliked on such a personal level that, on a good day, the best he could do was simply tune out and not pay any attention.

And that was the class he was stuck in at that moment.

Schrodinger was sitting on the white-blue metal chair he always sat on, near the middle of the classroom. His elbows resting on the hard surface of the metal desk as he tried his best to focus on the notebook he had in front of him.

He was trying, and he was failing.

Because even though he knew he was just feeling that way because Kali was making him angry, he couldn’t help but realize how hard and uncomfortable his seat was. Granted, that was something he almost never noticed, and that he didn’t even think about during other classes. But at that exact moment, he was almost in pain thanks to the solid surface he was sitting on.

The pages of his notebook were also completely empty, without a single word or figure written on its paper. And even that was somehow annoying. Normally, during that class, he would be able to at least scribble or draw something to help him pass the time. But the scowl on his face was so heavy that he didn’t even have the energy to do that. He could only wait for the seconds to slowly drag themselves by as the teacher went on with his lecture, walking this and that way as he continued to explain whatever was being displayed by the projector.

And just like clockwork, the moment the teacher turned his back to the class, he felt yet another light thud against the back of his head. The sensation of yet another paper ball hitting him being followed by the minute, almost imperceptible sound of Kali snickering at him from a few rows back. The noise almost tickling the cat ears on his head, making them twitch slightly.

Furthermore, he had no idea if it happened by chance, or if the girl’s aim was just getting better with practice. But the paper ball hit the back of his head at such an angle that it somehow bounced upwards, the glancing hit arching over his head and landing squarely on the middle of his desk. Right on top of his empty notebook.

He felt his temper rise at that, more than it did when she hit him with the previous paper balls. Because sure, she had taunted him the whole morning, during every single class and even during the short breaks between them. But still, there was something about that last paper ball, laying on his desk as if it had been tenderly placed there, that just flipped a switch inside of him.

It wasn’t as if a dam inside of him had broken. Not exactly. But still, he could feel that whatever cup he was filling inside of him was finally overflowing. That he had finally reached the point where he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

Still, it wasn’t as if he could just grab the offending paper ball and throw it back at her. He very dearly wanted to, of course, but he just couldn’t. Because one, doing that would confirm to the girl that she finally got to him, and he knew that would only make things worse. And two, because of the very simple reason that he couldn’t accurately throw anything at her without turning around to face her, which in turn would probably draw the teacher’s attention.

So, he had to settle for the second best thing he could do, which was imagining that Kali was the paper ball in front of him and sloooowly ripping it apart, bit by b-

“Schrodinger? I asked you a question.”

Until the voice of his teacher startled him back into reality.

Schrodinger nearly jumped out of his seat, shaking his head as he looked around. Only to be greeted by the sight of all of his classmates looking at him, as well as a small pile of neatly ripped paper that was lying on his desk. And of course, when he finally raised his head he saw the glaring figure of his teacher, looking down at him.

And just like that, all of the anger he was feeling disappeared. Replaced by the icy grip of panic, as if a bucket of cold water had just been poured on him.

“Well?” the teacher asked, arms crossed as if he did not need to elaborate.

To which Schrodinger couldn’t answer except by remaining frozen. Because what? Well what? What sort of answer was he expecting? What did his teacher even ask him to begin with? His eyes darted between the teacher and the projector, wondering if there was something there that might help him.

Although it didn’t take long to realize he couldn’t even understand what was being displayed in the projector either.

Until finally, the teacher just shook his head. Turning his attention back to the classroom at large and continuing with his lecture.

But not before he gave Schrodinger one last, cutting remark.

“See me after class, Schrodinger.”

The teacher’s voice, as he continued the class, all but drowned out the hushed whispers from the other children. Not that Schrodinger was paying any attention to them. All he was left with was the cold sense of shame. Both because he was singled out like that, and because he realized he deserved it.

He didn’t even hear the snickering, muffled laughter that came from Kali.

- - -

“Sit down, Schrodinger,” were the first words his teacher said as soon as they entered his office.

To which Schrodinger nervously complied. Sitting on one of the adult-sized, slightly large chairs that were available. Looking around as he worriedly wondered what might be waiting for him.

Father Jerikho, like many of the teachers in his school, was a priest of Dango. However, Schrodinger was surprised at how utterly… well, at how normal his office was. Schrodinger never really got into any kind of trouble at school before, and he had never been called to a teacher’s office before. So, he couldn’t help but look around and see how the rumors were all wrong. He saw shelves lined with hardcover books, as well as a humble workstation on his desk, and everything else one might expect to see in a regular office. But much more importantly, he saw none of the statues, chandeliers or oversized religious scrolls his classmates swore would be there, whenever they claimed that their religious professors certainly worked in miniature churches.

Still, none of that really helped him feel any calmer. In fact, it only had the opposite effect. It just reminded him of the fact that he was indeed at a teacher’s office.

“Now, Schrodinger, do you know why I called you here?” Jerikho’s voice snapped Schrodinger out of his thoughts, as his teacher sat down opposite to him and spoke to him.

And he couldn’t help but feel his ears fall slightly as he answered the only way he could.

“Because I wasn’t paying attention in class…” he said, the shame in his voice making him sound even more dejected.

His teacher nodded at his words, crossing his arms as he did.

Father Jerikho was a thin-looking man. His brown-tanned skin and weathered face, coupled with the rectangle glasses he wore, definitely gave him the appearance of an aged scholar. However, Schrodinger had no idea of how old the priest truly was. And given how many species did not live past a century, he knew it was rude to ask.

Still, his close-cropped grey hair, together with the grey shirt and black pants he wore, always brought to Schrodinger’s mind the image of a particularly old tree.

“Yes, and I am still very disappointed in you. But I also called you here because…?” Jerikho said, waving a hand for him to continue talking.

Of course, Schrodinger also knew the answer to that question. He knew what would come next. He did something wrong, and he was being called out for it. So that could only mean that something bad was about to happen to him.

“Because… you are also going to tell my parents… and give me extra homework… and I’ll be punished for what I did and…” he said, the horrible parade of what awaited him in the future coming out of his mouth, one at a time. His tail completely flopped behind him as he said that.

“I could do that, yes,” Jerikho answered, “but I won’t. I didn’t call you here for any of that, and I don’t want to punish you. I called you here for another reason.”

Schrodinger’s ears perked up slightly at that, his expression clearly surprised.

“The thing I’m much more worried about, Schrodinger, is why you weren’t paying attention during my class. Is anything the matter? Is it something you would like to talk about?”

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Although as soon as he heard Jerikho’s question, his ears fell down once again.

Because there it was, creeping into his chest. That same feeling of inadequacy he felt whenever he was training with his mother. Whenever he remembered that no matter what he did, he just wouldn’t be able to make it.

After all, there was a reason he didn’t like Jerikho’s class.

“You know why…” he mumbled. Although he wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to the priest.

“You might think I know why,” Jerikho answered. Speaking more slowly than before. Clearly choosing his words carefully before speaking. “I did hear a few things… but never from you. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, Schrodinger.”

And as he heard those words, the feeling inside Schrodinger’s chest grew heavier. To the point that he couldn’t stop himself from answering.

“You know why!” he suddenly yelled, almost blurting out the words. “It’s because I can’t use magic! You teach lessons on magic, and I can’t use it. So I don’t understand why I have to learn about it!”

It was so frustrating to even say that out loud that he didn’t even realize he had just yelled at a teacher. In fact, he actually felt angry that Jerikho had all but forced him to say that. After all, what he just said wasn’t exactly a secret to begin with. Kali knew he couldn’t use magic, all of his friends knew he couldn’t use magic, and Schrodinger was sure that all of his teachers knew it as well. Especially Jerikho.

Especially given who Schrodinger’s father was. Because he knew that everyone thought he should be good at it, just like his father. He knew everyone expected that, and that they were all disappointed that he wasn’t.

So having to say those words felt as bad as having to admit that he wasn’t good at fighting either.

But Father Jerikho, on the other hand, only answered by raising his hands in a placating gesture. Calmly waiting until Schrodinger was done. In fact, although the young boy didn’t realize it, the priest’s expression was the very opposite of disappointed or judgmental.

“Schrodinger, I know that. I understand that,” Jerikho said back to him, “but a lot of people can’t use magic.”

“No. A lot of people can’t use most kinds of magic,” Schrodinger answered. His tone, and even his face, still angry. “A lot of people are bad at it. Or they never bother to learn it. Or they just don’t care about it. I know all of that! But I can’t use any magic.”

He knew what he was talking about, because it was the truth. The ability to even generate magical energy relied a lot on one’s genetics. Some species had an easier time doing it, while others generated very little of it. Hard work and practice could help compensate for it, in some cases, but every person who dedicated themselves to practicing magic had a long road to walk one way or the other.

However, there were some cases where a person’s genes were just a complete flop. There were some people that produced so little magical energy it couldn’t even be distinguished from the loose magic that was present in the air.

And although those cases were very rare to begin with, they also happened mostly to people whose genes were more divergent. To people who were half-blooded like Schrodinger, who had parents from different species. And although most half-blooded people turned out perfectly normal, like Kali, there was a small number of them that just didn’t.

“I know everyone thinks I should be good at it. Even I wish I was good at it! Everyone in my class is already learning spells from their parents, and I’m not. Because I can’t do it at all! So I just don’t understand why I even have to go to your class to begin with!”

Schrodinger only noticed he was yelling after he stopped talking, when he realized how quiet the office turned when he closed his mouth. And a small part of him thought he had just done something he shouldn’t have. A small part of him was sure that now, for sure, he was in trouble, and that Jerikho would talk to his parents regardless of what he said before.

But still, he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t help feeling angry, or ashamed, or just wrong. It didn’t matter how much he was told it wasn’t his fault, because he still felt like it was.

It was his body, after all. His genes, or whatever else. So, if there was something wrong with them, that meant there was something wrong with him. And it didn’t matter if he didn’t do anything, because he was still to blame.

He felt the slightest hint of a burning sensation coming to his eyes, but he quickly blinked it away.

And several seconds passed before Father Jerikho spoke.

“Schrodinger, this might surprise you,” Jerikho said, very gently, “but I actually want to help you. I am your friend, Schrodinger. Not just some random teacher who teaches you classes every other day.”

He listened to the priest’s words, but he couldn’t bear to face him. Partly because he was ashamed of having yelled at the much older man, and partly because… well, he wasn’t really sure.

Still, he listened to his words.

“And I want you to understand that I’m not trying to teach you how to use magic. I want to teach you and your classmates about magic. Magical energy, and magic in general, is a very important part of our lives. Of everyone’s lives. So, it’s important that you learn how it works, and why, the same way you need to learn about math or history.”

He listened, but he didn’t say anything. To be honest, Schrodinger didn’t even know what he could have said even if he wanted to.

“So I’m not going to tell your parents. I’m not going to punish you, or anything you said, and you are not in trouble. But I need you to understand that studying about magic is still good for you. It’s important for you, even, because there are some things you just can’t navigate life without knowing.”

Schrodinger had his arms crossed, and he was still looking down at his own feet. Because he felt bad about it. About everything. He wasn’t sure if he was angry, or disappointed, or ashamed, or something else entirely. But he was at least sure he felt bad.

After all, he understood Father Jerikho was right. He knew that what his teacher was saying made sense.

But still, none of that changed the fact that he still couldn’t…

“I just feel…” Schrodinger began to say, hesitantly. Not even sure what exactly was going on through his mind as he spoke. “I just feel so stupid. Because I know everyone else in class gets it. For everyone else, learning about magic is actually useful. But for me it’s so…”

He trailed off, finally looking up in time to see that Jerikho was slowly nodding at his words.

However, despite Schrodinger’s own downtrodden expression, Jerikho had a small smile on his face. As if he understood exactly what the boy meant to say, even if Schrodinger himself didn’t.

“In that case, why don’t we make a deal?” the priest asked. “Because I understand what you are saying. I really do. And you are right, I can see how my class is a lot different for you than it is for your classmates. So, a deal between the two of us.”

Schrodinger looked up to him with a doubtful expression. He was already confused at how Father Jerikho just agreed with him, instead of pushing back. But what did he mean by a deal?

“I mean, your friends probably use what they learn in class whenever they are learning spells, right? While to you, that’s all just theory that you can’t really do anything with.”

But Jerikho continued talking, despite his confusion. And soon enough, Schrodinger found himself nodding to what Jerikho was saying.

“So how about this. I promise that you don’t have to do any more of your homework, and in return you promise me to pay attention in class. But I really mean it when I say paying attention,” Jerikho said, his face somehow stern and kind at the same time. “I want to see you taking notes, and answering questions, and actually learning about it. But if you do that, no homework anymore. Does that sound fair?”

“Y-you… you can do that?” he asked without even thinking, to which Jerikho answered with a short laugh.

“As long as we keep this between us? Of course I can,” the priest answered with a smile. “Because like I said, I truly believe this subject is important, Schrodinger, and I really just want to help you learn. So, again, do we have a deal?”

“I-uhm… well, yes!” he answered, excitedly nodding at the priest, still not believing what he just heard.

And Jerikho couldn’t help but smile himself, noticing how the previous gloom in the boy’s expression had finally disappeared.

“Then I’m glad we have reached an agreement, Schrodinger. Now, I’ll keep you to your word, so you better be sharp next class. But still, off you go then.”

Schrodinger hesitated for a few moments, still confused at how he was about to leave a teacher’s office without so much as a scolding. In fact, still dazed at how well everything was turning out.

“Oh, and one last thing,” the priest said, right as Schrodinger was about to leave. “And I really mean this. If you ever need to ask anything about class… or even if you just want to talk. If you want to talk about anything at all, my door is always open.”

“Yes sir. And uh… and thank you, Father Jerikho,” he said, leaving the office right after.

- - -

Schrodinger’s body felt unusually light, as he walked away from Jerikho’s office. His mind felt strangely blank, almost hazy, while he tried to process what had just happened. As if he was in a dream of sorts.

Because sure, from a logical perspective not much had happened. He was just a student, who had a conversation with his teacher, and that was it.

However, from Schrodinger’s point of view, that wasn’t really how he… felt?

It was hard for him to put it into words. After all, if he had just been scolded then that would have been it. If Jerikho had sat him down and told him that he was disappointed in Schrodinger, then… well, it wouldn’t have been pleasant, but it would have just been another day for him. Just another expectation he couldn’t meet, to be added to his long list of shortcomings. Just another failure in the eyes of yet another pair of eyes he knew were always silently judging him.

But again, nothing like that really happened. And that made him unsure of how he felt. Part of him believed that he was just setting himself up for failure, and that his “deal” with Jerikho would somehow backfire. And that part of him could already picture the priest shaking his head in disappointment, maybe a few weeks down the line, when Schrodinger inevitably messed up again.

And yet, a smaller part of him couldn’t help but think that…

“Scotty! There you are!”

Schrodinger was snapped out of his thoughts as someone called out to him, shaking his head for a few moments as he blinked.

He was still in school, walking down the long corridors that would take him to the entrance. His conversation with Jerikho couldn’t have lasted more than twenty minutes. But he was well acquainted with the excited crowd of rushing children that formed as soon as the classes finished. So, he knew that those twenty-ish minutes had been more than enough time for the place to become completely empty.

Or rather, it was almost completely empty.

Staring at him with a worried expression was a girl, who was only slightly shorter than him and had long brown hair. And Schrodinger immediately noticed that she was standing by the door that led to his own classroom, to the point that he could almost picture her nervously peeking into it while trying to look for him.

She was unusually cute, and even though she was only wearing a school uniform she somehow looked like a princess. Her shoes were shiny and well-kept, which was certainly unusual for someone of their age. The skirt of her uniform actually made her look like she was wearing a dress, and it definitely helped that it matched the color of her blue eyes. And the fact she wore silky-looking gloves, white like the long-sleeved shirts they were both wearing, only helped drive that impression home.

Of course, Schrodinger knew who that girl was. After all, there were only two people who called him “Scotty,” and he knew for a fact that Kali would never wait for him after school was done.

“Marianne,” he said her name, only half-surprised to see her there.

“I asked Kali where you were, but she just shrugged! Did something happen?” she asked, and it was clear how anxious she was just from the tone of her voice.

Schrodinger had to suppress a sigh before he answered her.

Marianne was a good girl. She was ten years old, but Schrodinger swore that she worried more than an adult. But still, she was friends with him and Kali even though they were not in the same class, or even on the same grade.

In fact, that was why she was waiting for him. The three of them always left school together when classes were over. Or at least they did that on most days, seeing how Kali was prone to leave them behind every now and then.

“Nothing really happened, don’t worry,” he said as he kept walking down the corridor, waving for her to follow him.

“How can I not worry? Kali had that… that grin on her face, you know the one,” she said with a frown as she walked next to him. “Did Kali get you into trouble again?”

Schrodinger hesitated on how to answer that for a moment.

Because it wouldn’t be a lie to tell her that yes, Kali got him into trouble. After all, it was that blasted girl’s fault that he was called by a teacher. And he still wanted to get back at her for the several hours he just had to suffer, getting hit by paper balls again and again, as well as… well, everything else.

However, he also knew that, depending on what he told Marianne, things could just get worse. Kali generally treated Marianne well, or at least way better than she treated him. But Schrodinger definitely didn’t trust Kali to keep doing that if, for example, Marianne tried to scold her or something.

So, in the end, he really thought it was for the best to tell her that…

“Kali didn’t get me into trouble,” he said with a sigh, “I just wasn’t paying attention in class. That’s all.”

With that, he watched as Marianne’s expression softened a little. Not much, of course, but at least she didn’t know he had been fighting with Kali again.

“And by the way, how was Pandora during classes today? Did anything happen?” he asked, trying his best to ease her up a little more by changing subjects.

“Pandora? She was fine today. Nothing strange happened,” she said, to which Schrodinger answered with a thankful nod.

Marianne was just a few months older than Pandora, so they were in the same grade. And by a happy coincidence, the two girls were also in the same classroom. So, Schrodinger usually asked Marianne to keep an eye on his sister. Because even though he had seen Pandora earlier in the morning, it had already happened that her sickness would take a turn for the worse at school, and the adults would only bother to tell him a lot later.

“She looked a bit more cheerful than usual,” Marianne continued.

“That’s nice to hear.”

“And her mom came by to pick her up as soon as the bells rang.”

“Yeah, that sounds like auntie Juno.”

“… your aunt scares me, Scotty…” she said, clearly hesitant. Her voice suddenly low, almost in a whisper.

And Schrodinger couldn’t help but look over his shoulder before answering. Some strange sensation that he was being watched creeping up on him.

“She scares me too,” he said, also lowering his voice. “I think she scares everyone.”

The two of them fell silent after that, their steps turning a little more brisk as they made their way back to their homes.