“What happened?”

As the not-quite interrogation ended, the first-year students were in a social studies class. Just before the class ended, Diane asked Neris with a concerned look.

Neris whispered back, barely audibly to others, as she glanced at Alecto sitting next to Idalia.

“After-school reflection room for three days, writing reflections.”

Considering that Nellucion had come as well, it seemed everyone knew that the father of Angarad Nine had pointed out Alecto and Neris as the culprits of ostracism.

Neris wasn’t particularly fond of Nellucion’s assistance, but she knew that without him, the situation would not have ended so mildly.

“What about Angarad?”

“Don’t know. Seemed like he was going somewhere with his father.”

The class ended just like that. The kids stood up and moved to the dining hall, chattering among themselves to have dinner.

The scene wasn’t any different than usual; Angarad’s absence wasn’t much of a loss. Especially when Alecto’s voice echoed in the corridor, and the kids pretended not to listen.

“It’s ridiculous, really. Scared? What could he possibly say? It’s his fault for being that way! He kept denying knowing anything about the ribbon.”

“That’s too much.”

A boy who was listening to Alecto’s complaints agreed insincerely. Idalia, while part of the same group, kept her mouth shut, apparently uncomfortable with the attention; but her face faintly revealed disgust, making it clear who she was siding with.

Neris briefly explained what had happened to Diane. Diane nodded, as if it was obvious, at the part where Nellucion showed up.

“He’s family, so of course he’d come. He’s a good brother, at least.”

Though in her past life Neris had often ended up in counseling for unsavory matters, Nellucion had shown no interest. But pointing that out now was unnecessary, so Neris decided to gloss over it.

“…Anyway, after dinner, I have to go to the reflection room.”

“With Alecto?”

“Separately.”

The experienced teachers had made multiple reflection rooms, dull, small spaces to ‘focus’ on writing reflections.

Neris had no desire to spend time with Alecto, so this was fortunate. It was a waste to write apologies for ostracizing Angarad when she could be reading a book and planning for the future, but Diane nodded solemnly.

“Thank goodness. It’d be really noisy together.”

At that blunt comment, Neris slightly smiled.

They got their food and sat at a table next to Alecto’s group in the dining hall. The dining hall was large with a few sections, but the one most convenient for lower-grade students was the Potzheimer Hall they were now in. It used to be a chapel, so the ceilings were quite high, and the place often showcased its beautiful vaults even to outsiders.

Given the architecture, unless voices were deliberately lowered, they echoed. While eating her soup and potatoes purchased with meal tickets, Neris engaged in a quiet conversation with Diane about the next class.

“So what? Scared to say anything? I called a thief a thief; how am I the bad one here? Huh? Is it my fault that he has no friends? Honestly, kids who get ostracized have their reasons!”

Angry at his own words, Alecto ranted on. Diane rolled her eyes at that table. She seemed to regret sitting so close to them. Neris didn’t even glance in that direction, but she quietly listened.

A faint, almost imperceptible, bitter smile crossed her lips.

‘Same as always.’
Consistency is usually a virtue that receives praise. But could the same be said for the tiresome humans in this class?

“People get bullied for a reason. Do you really not know what you did wrong?”

Unlike Lianon, who was always keen on gauging the room, Alecto had wanted to stand out since first grade.

There were certainly elements that would make one wish to stand out. Alecto had good grades and was proud.

Being the middle child of the Isulani baronet, sandwiched between a pretty and affectionate younger sister and a clever older sister, she knew that she had to shout to survive.

And perhaps for the same reason, she always reacted aggressively toward children who were better than her.

Alecto herself might have even dreamt of using some of her superior qualities to stand out in a pure way before enrolling.

But in a school where classmates who were both pretty and good at studies already existed, the daughter of a not-so-powerful baronet would only be overshadowed.

It wouldn’t be fair to say Alecto wasn’t clever. She quickly read the children’s thoughts and volunteered to represent them in the wittiest way possible. She was good at it because she had a way with words.

And as always, wit in a barbaric society was accompanied by violence.

“Look! I placed a teacup filled with rotten milk on Trued’s head! Who wants to bet who can knock it off with a stone? That’s Mrs. Aliks’s teacup, so you better not knock it off, Neris! Got it! Oh, you broke it! All your fault, you know? Ugh, the smell! This is why kids hate you!”