Monday, the 27th of Soltveir brought a new kind of tension into Daniel's life.
Fully dressed in Schulerin Academy's uniform—a crisp white, short-sleeved shirt that clung to his figure much more tightly than before, a neatly knotted brown tie, and dark brown trousers that stopped several inches too short—he stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection.
"I'll need a new uniform set at this rate," he muttered, frowning as he reached for the cream on his dresser.
Rubbing a small amount between his palms, he applied it to his hair. His Nana had outdone herself with his new hairstyle—a sharp undercut that left the sides and back closely cropped while the longer strands on top were swept neatly to the side. The titian hue of his hair gleamed under the morning light, accentuating the striking features of his face, adding a touch of brilliance that made him look like he belonged on a magazine cover rather than a classroom.
It was too good. Too polished.
Daniel frowned, unsure whether to be proud or worried. Attention was the last thing he wanted, especially the wrong kind—Leonardo kind of attention.
"Maxuel said he'd handle it," Daniel reminded himself, a wry smile playing on his lips.
It was the first time Maxuel had directly told Daniel he wouldn't tolerate anyone bullying him anymore. Knowing his brother—and the fear he commanded at Schulerin—Daniel could only hope the situation wouldn't escalate into outright violence.
With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror to face the organized chaos of his room. Clothes were draped over furniture, and personal effects were scattered about in stark contrast to the pristine state it had been in when he'd first returned from the hospital.
Even on his desk, books, papers, and a few writing utensils were haphazardly strewn about as opposed to their previously neat arrangement.
Grabbing his school bag, he rummaged through the books and notes.
Ethan had been visiting, bringing notes and questions from the classes Daniel had missed. Though the school had excused his absences due to the accident, being behind in his studies meant he'd have to work twice as hard to catch up. Daniel wasn't looking forward to that uphill battle.
Something caught his eyes, and Daniel paused.
There was a different handwriting among some of the notes, much finer—more refined than both his and Ethan's.
What he did look forward to, was seeing Her again.
He hadn't seen Kira at all since he got back, she hadn't been with Ethan during his visits. His best friend had said their parents were quite strict with the limitations they imposed on his sister's movements.
Daniel didn't have a clear picture of what that meant, but Ethan claimed it was for her own safety, and somehow, his attitude had given off the impression that he would rather not delve into it.
Yet, despite the boundaries Ethan seemed to be setting, Daniel couldn't help but think of Kira—of wanting to see her face.
"Saint Ann's..." He mumbled, running his finger along the alphabets she had written. "I'm not even sure where it is."
He could easily find out though. He could ask Maxuel or just look it up on the internet... But then what?
Would he go to her school—
"Yo," Maxuel's voice called from outside the room, snapping Daniel from his thoughts. "Tick-tock, bruh."
[Right.] "Right," Daniel said, ignoring the other voice that echoed his words.
He turned away from the books as he zipped up his bag, then slung it over his shoulder, only to come to a pause mid-step.
Something felt off.
He scanned his room, his eyes settling on the black headphones lying on his bed. With a grim realization, he picked them up and draped them over his neck.
"Alright. I'm ready."
~~~
The journey to Schulerin Academy was the first trial of the day. Despite the headphones clamping over his ears, Daniel's heightened senses were assaulted by the city's cacophony.
Every sound bled into the next: honking cars, snippets of hurried conversations, distant barking dogs, and the rhythmic thud of footsteps on concrete. Each noise clawed at his mind, impossible to block out entirely.
In the crowded bus, the chaos blurred together, yet his brain involuntarily picked apart fragments he wished he hadn't overheard. A middle-aged man complained about his cheating wife. A teenager shared explicit details of his weekend escapades. A woman speaking in hushed tones about her deranged fetish—that one in particular made Daniel shudder with revulsion.
And the smells... Oh, the smells!
The greasy aroma of fast food mingling with the sharp tang of exhaust fumes, and cheap cologne clashed with unwashed bodies, all of them assaulting his nose relentlessly.
Some were pleasant, some irritating, and others outright nauseating.
Adding to his discomfort were the stares. Girls whispered and giggled, their eyes lingering on him longer than he liked. Even the men threw him occasional glances, their expressions ranging from curious to envious. His Nana's expert styling had drawn far more attention than he'd anticipated.
By the time the academy's pristine white buildings came into view, Daniel was already drained, both mentally and physically. He rubbed his temples, nursing the beginnings of a headache.
As the bus rolled to a stop near the Academy, Daniel felt both relief and dread.
Inside, long hallways stretched before them, the tiled floors polished to a reflective sheen. On one side, doors lined the walls, leading to classrooms. On the other, massive cantilevered balconies jutted out, each encased in metal-framed glass panels. The central balcony was the largest, offering a sweeping view of the academy grounds.
Daniel's gaze lingered on the glass panels as they passed, catching glimpses of the sprawling campus. The morning sun painted the lawns in hues of gold, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Yet the tranquility outside contrasted starkly with the tension coiling in his chest.
The muffled hum of classrooms in session filled the silence, and Daniel's footsteps echoed off the tiled floors. Each step felt heavier as they approached their destination.
"Almost there," Maxuel said as they walked side by side.
Daniel nodded, the desolate hallway gave him time to mentally prepare for the inevitable reunion with his classmates—those who had long ostracized him.
He finally stopped in front of a familiar white door.
Classroom 1-A.
Daniel's breath hitched. He glanced at Maxuel, who gave him a small, reassuring nod before gesturing for him to go ahead.
Turning back to the door, Daniel hesitated. He reached, lifting the headphones slightly, letting the sounds of the classroom filter through as he focused all his attention on the voices behind the door.
"…so the parabola intersects the x-axis at these two points, which we call the roots of the quadratic equation," a deep, familiar voice explained. "Can anyone tell me what happens to the graph if we increase the coefficient of x²?"
There was a pause, followed by a hesitant voice. "Uh… it becomes narrower?"
"Correct! Increasing the coefficient of x² does indeed make the parabola narrower. A point for you, Adelia!" the teacher said. "Now, what if the coefficient is negative?"
Another voice answered, more confident. "It flips."
"Exactly. The graph is reflected across the x-axis. Alright, let's solve this example…"
Daniel exhaled slowly. The voices were achingly familiar, yet the thought of stepping into that room felt like walking into a storm.
Will they look at me differently? he wondered. Will they notice how much I've changed?
His hand hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly.
Behind him, Maxuel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You've got this," he said quietly.
Daniel exhaled slowly, drawing strength from his brother's words, steeling himself.
He placed his hand on the door and pushed it open.