Chapter 3: A Bright Morning, a Wary Heart

The morning sun had not fully risen when Ella Virel opened her eyes. Her room was simple—just a single bed, an old wooden study desk, and a small wardrobe in the corner. On the wall hung a faded photograph, its edges already yellowing with age. The photo showed a man with a calm smile and gentle eyes. Jhon Virel. Her father.

But this morning, Ella did not look at that photo. She wasn’t ready.

Ella got up from her bed, rubbed her face, then walked toward the bathroom. Cold water flowed from the old tap, and she splashed her face until the drowsiness completely faded. This morning she had to be early to school. As the class president of IX-9, there were many responsibilities waiting—attendance, lesson schedules, and making sure none of the girls in her class had problems with other students or teachers.

A class of outcasts.

That was what people called their class. IX-9 was a special class consisting of nine students—all of them daughters of the rebel leaders who had died in the civil war eight years ago. The government didn’t want them scattered across different classes because they feared they might "plan something." So they were gathered in one class, kept away from other students, and left alone.

Ella sighed. She left the bathroom, dried her long black hair, then put on her school uniform—a white shirt, a black skirt slightly above the knees, a dark red tie on her chest, a dark blue blazer, and a small badge with the image of a phoenix with burning wings. Phoenix Academy. A school founded by Leonhard, a former mercenary commander who for some reason was willing to protect them.

At least we have a place to take shelter, Ella thought. That’s better than nothing.

From the kitchen, the sound of a pan scraping against the stove could be heard. The smell of toasted bread and fried eggs began to spread throughout the house. Her mother—Tia—had been busy since dawn. A woman with long black hair always neatly tied back and a face that rarely showed excessive emotion, she was someone Ella admired but also felt pressured by. Since her father left, Tia had never cried in front of Ella. Never complained. Never showed that she was struggling.

She just smiled. Every day. And that only made Ella sadder.

"Ella, breakfast!" called Tia from the kitchen.

Ella walked to the dining room. The small wooden table there was already set with two plates, two glasses, and a pot of warm tea. Tia sat across from her, holding a cup of black coffee. Her face was calm, as always.

"Did you stay up late again last night?" asked Tia, observing the dark circles under her daughter’s eyes.

"Just reading," Ella answered briefly. She picked up her spoon and began to eat. Her mother’s fried rice was always delicious—not too salty, not too oily, just right. But this morning, Ella barely tasted anything. Her eyes were hollow, her mind drifting elsewhere.

Tia sighed. She knew exactly what was happening to her daughter. But she also knew that Ella wasn’t the type of child who could be pressured. "Take care of yourself at school. Don’t overthink things. You’re still young, Ella."

"Yes, Mom."

They ate in silence. The sound of spoons touching plates was the only music in the room. Tia occasionally looked at Ella, then returned to her coffee. Ella occasionally looked at her mother, then returned to her plate.

After finishing, Ella washed her own dishes in the sink. Water flowed, soap foamed, and she rinsed them until clean. Tia was still sitting at the table, enjoying her second cup of coffee.

"Ella," Tia called suddenly.

Ella turned. "Yes, Mom?"

Tia smiled. The same smile—calm, warm, but there was something behind it. Something Ella couldn’t read. "Enjoy your school days. Don’t be too hard on yourself."

Ella nodded. She grabbed her bag, walked to the door, and opened it. Fresh morning air greeted her outside. The sky was a light orange, signaling that the sun would soon rise.

Before Ella stepped out, her eyes accidentally caught something on the living room wall. That faded photo. That man’s smile. Those gentle eyes.

Father.

Ella bit her lip. She lowered her head, then stepped outside and closed the door without looking back.

Not yet time to remember. Later. When I’m stronger.

The morning air was still fresh when Ella began to jog along the sidewalk. Her worn-out sneakers made soft sounds every time they touched the asphalt. Phoenix Academy was about a twenty-minute walk from her house, but with a light jog like this, she could get there in fifteen minutes—or even faster if she picked up the pace.

As she ran, her thoughts drifted to her friends. Nine girls in class IX-9. Nine people who had become her family over the past two years.

There was Rin with her short red hair and fire in her eyes. That girl was quick to anger, stubborn, and never willing to lose at anything. But beneath all that, Rin was the most loyal among them all. If Ella was in trouble, Rin would be the first to hit anyone who dared to bother her.

There was Nora with her long white hair and pale blue eyes that always seemed alert. Nora didn’t talk much. She preferred to stand in the corner of the room, observe, and make sure nothing threatened her friends. She was a natural protector—without being asked, without being told, without ever getting tired.

There was Mira, the cheerful one with shoulder-length brown hair and a smile that could melt the stiffest atmosphere. Mira always smiled. Always joked. Always tried to make others laugh. But Ella knew—behind that smile, Mira was hiding something. Something she had never told anyone.

There was Luna, the quiet one who preferred observing over speaking. Luna sat in the corner of the classroom, her eyes half-closed, but nothing escaped her observation. If Ella needed information about someone, Luna was the one who knew the most.

There was Iris, the social manipulator. The girl with wavy brown hair and sharp green eyes was good at reading people—too good. Sometimes Ella felt that Iris could see right through her, reading all her thoughts and fears. Iris liked to tease, liked to play with words, and often made others feel uncomfortable in her own way.

There was Eve, the technology genius who couldn’t be separated from her laptop. Round glasses were always on her nose, and her fingers were always dancing across the keyboard. Eve didn’t really care about the outside world. For her, the digital world was more interesting. But if her friends were in trouble, Eve would use her abilities to help—in ways others couldn’t even imagine.

There was Fay, with her unstable mental state. The pale blonde girl with empty blue eyes would sometimes laugh suddenly, sometimes cry without reason. Ella never knew what was going on inside Fay’s head. But one thing Ella knew: Fay wasn’t dangerous. She was just... broken. Like a plate that had fallen and been glued back together, but the cracks were still visible.

There was Aria, the worrier who was always anxious. Her black hair was always tied back neatly, and her big eyes always seemed restless. Aria carried a "survival kit" everywhere—containing band-aids, headache medicine, snacks, even a small folding knife. She always prepared for the worst. Sometimes Ella felt that Aria lived in a future full of disasters, not in the present.

And Ella herself—the class president who felt responsible for all their safety. Ella didn’t know exactly when she started carrying this burden. Maybe from the first day they were placed in class IX-9. Maybe from when she saw her friends being mocked, insulted, and isolated. Maybe from when she realized that no adult really cared about them.

We only have each other, Ella thought. No one else cares about us.

"Ella!"

A cheerful voice broke through Ella’s reverie. From around the corner, a girl with shoulder-length brown hair jumped in front of her with a wide smile. A characteristic smile—wide, bright, and contagious. A smile that made everyone around her smile unconsciously.

Mira.

Ella blinked. Her pace slowed slightly. Mira had managed to surprise her—as usual.

"Mira," Ella sighed, half relieved and half annoyed. "Don’t surprise me like that. I could have fallen."

"Sorry, sorry!" Mira laughed softly. Her voice was light like a bell. She jogged beside Ella, catching her breath. Mira had come from the opposite direction, meaning she came from her house located east of the school. "Mira saw you from far away, but you looked really lost in thought."

Ella sighed again. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About class. About schedules. About... many things."

"About the new teacher?"

Ella looked at Mira. "New teacher?"

Mira nodded. Her eyes sparkled. "Mira heard from Iris that there’s a new teacher who will be our homeroom teacher. Iris heard from Eve, who heard from someone Eve knows in the teachers’ office."

Ella frowned. "Rumor?"

"Not a rumor. Eve said the information is valid. There’s a new teacher. And he’s going to teach us."

"I won’t believe it until I see it myself."

Mira smiled. "Mira thinks that’s a good idea. But don’t be too pessimistic, Ella. Maybe our new teacher is good."

"Or maybe he’s just like the teachers before."

Mira didn’t answer. She just walked beside Ella casually. Mira knew when to ask and when to stay silent. That was one of the reasons everyone liked her. She never pushed. Never judged. She just... existed.

"Mira heard," Mira said after a while, trying to change the subject, "that Iris said there’s an OSIS meeting this morning. Ella as the class president has to attend."

"I know."

"Don’t keep frowning, or you’ll get more wrinkles. If Ella gets wrinkles, all the boys around us will run away."

"I’m not angry."

"Your face has looked like you want to kill someone since earlier."

Ella stopped. She stared at Mira. Mira just smiled—innocently, but her brown eyes sparkled mischievously. That smile made Ella unable to truly be angry.

"You’re annoying sometimes, Mira."

"Thank you!"

Mira laughed, and without realizing it, Ella smiled a little too. Mira really had a talent for lightening the mood. In a classroom full of pressure and suspicion, Mira was like sunlight slipping through a gap in tightly closed curtains.

They walked side by side along the increasingly crowded sidewalk. Several other students were also walking in the same direction—toward Phoenix Academy. Some of them looked at Ella and Mira with strange stares. Stares they were used to receiving. Stares that didn’t need to be spoken because their meaning was already clear.

Children of rebels.

They shouldn’t be going to school here.

Look at them, still having the face to smile even though their fathers were murderers.

Ella looked away. Her chest felt tight. She was used to it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

"Don’t mind them," Mira whispered, as if reading Ella’s thoughts. Her voice was soft. Her eyes were serious for a moment—something that rarely happened. "They’re just afraid of what they don’t understand. People who are afraid often become stupid."

"You’re too kind, Mira."

Mira smiled again. "Not kind. Mira just doesn’t want to waste energy on unimportant people. Mira’s energy is limited. Mira uses it for fun things."

"You always say that."

"Because it’s true."

Ella didn’t answer. But she was glad Mira was beside her.

They passed through a narrow alley connecting two main streets. This alley was a shortcut to Phoenix Academy—five minutes faster, but quieter and darker. There were no shops here. Just walls of old houses with peeling paint and some shady trees that made the atmosphere even dimmer. Ella usually avoided this alley because it was too quiet, but this morning she and Mira were in a hurry.

"Be careful," Ella said, looking left and right. "This alley sometimes..."

"Bam!"

Something—or someone—bumped into Mira from the side. Mira’s small body swayed and almost fell if Ella hadn’t quickly grabbed her arm. The books Mira was carrying fell to the ground. Loose papers scattered everywhere.

"Ouch!"

Mira rubbed her right shoulder, which hurt. In front of her, a man stood catching his breath. He looked like he had just run a long distance—sweat covered his entire face, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and his eyes were slightly red from exhaustion.

The man wore a black suit. But the suit was wrinkled—not messy, but clearly unkempt. There were creases on the sleeves that weren’t neat. There was a small stain on the collar that might have been coffee. His red tie was tilted to the left, almost loose. And his pants... his pants were gray, mismatched with his black suit. Like he had taken two different outfits and worn them together.

The man’s face was young. Maybe early twenties. His black hair was messy, like it had never been properly combed. A thin scar on his left cheek—a wound that looked like a cut from a knife or some other sharp object. His eyes... his eyes were empty. But there was something there. Something Ella couldn’t read. Not kindness. Not evil. Not sadness. Not anger.

Empty, Ella thought. His eyes are empty.

The man didn’t say anything. He just looked at Mira briefly—checking if she was seriously hurt, perhaps—then looked at Ella. Then—

"Sorry."

One word. Quick. Rushed. As if he didn’t have time to explain further. As if one word was enough to make up for everything.

The man immediately turned and ran away from them. His feet pounded quickly on the alley’s asphalt. A few seconds later, he turned at the end of the alley and disappeared behind the wall. The sound of his footsteps grew fainter and fainter until they vanished completely.

Ella was stunned. Her lips opened, but no sound came out for a few seconds. Her eyes narrowed. Her anger rose like boiling water.

"How rude!" Ella almost shouted. Her voice echoed in the narrow alley. "Bumping into someone, saying sorry casually, then running away? What kind of man is that?!"

She was still holding Mira’s hand. The cheerful girl was still standing with a slightly confused face, but didn’t look hurt. Her shoulder might be a little bruised, but nothing more.

"Mira is fine, really," Mira said softly. Her eyes followed the direction where the man had disappeared. "Maybe he was in a hurry? He looked like someone being chased by something."

"Being in a hurry is no excuse to be rude! Where are his manners? Where is his etiquette? Bumping into someone, saying sorry without looking them in the eye, then running away. Crazy!"

Ella helped Mira pick up the books and papers scattered on the ground. While bending over, she kept muttering.

"Careless. No manners. Wrinkled suit, mismatched pants, grumpy face, empty eyes... such an annoying man."

Mira smiled slightly. "Mira thinks he didn’t mean it. He looked panicked. Maybe he had an urgent matter."

"Not meaning it still doesn’t make it polite! If you didn’t mean it, you apologize properly. Not just say ’sorry’ and run away like a demon is chasing you."

"Mira thinks ’sorry’ is enough."

"It’s NOT enough!"

Ella sighed deeply. She stood up, holding Mira’s pile of books in her hands. Her eyes stared at the end of the alley where the man had disappeared.

Who is he? Teacher? Office worker? Random person who got lost?

Not important. What’s clear is that he’s an annoying man. And hopefully never to be met again.

"Come on, we’re going to be late," Ella finally said. She pulled Mira’s hand and walked quickly away from the alley.

Mira walked beside her casually, as if nothing had happened.

"Ella, if you keep getting angry, you’ll look ugly, you know. Then all the boys around us—"

"Shut up, Mira."

Mira giggled softly. And for the umpteenth time, Ella sighed.

Phoenix Academy wasn’t as big as a typical public school. Its main building was only three floors with simple architecture—brick walls painted cream, a red zinc roof, and large windows that let sunlight in. The schoolyard was spacious enough for a flag ceremony, a small garden beside the building with some wooden benches, and a sports field with grass that was starting to thin out. The wall color was cream with dark blue accents on every door and window frame.

But the thing that distinguished Phoenix Academy from other schools was... no teacher dared to be rude to students. Leonhard had made strict rules: no violence, no discrimination, no physical punishment of any kind. Anyone who violated them would be fired without exception. Many teachers complained, but Leonhard didn’t care. For him, students were students. It didn’t matter what family they came from.

That was why class IX-9—the "outcast" class—could still survive. At other schools, they might have been expelled or bullied until they couldn’t stand it. Here, at least they had a place. At least they didn’t have to fear being hit or mocked by teachers.

Ella and Mira entered the school gate just as the first bell rang. The long bell signaled that students had to immediately enter their respective classrooms. The two of them walked quickly—almost running—toward class IX-9, located on the second floor, at the very end of the corridor. Far from other classes. Far from the crowd. As if deliberately separated so they wouldn’t disturb anyone.

The stairs to the second floor were made of concrete with iron railings that had started to rust in some places. The sound of Ella and Mira’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. Other classes had already started to get noisy with students talking and laughing. But when they approached the end of the corridor, those sounds began to fade.

Class IX-9 was there. An old brown wooden door with the class number displayed on a small board above it. No decorations. No posters. No plants. Just a door and an empty wall.

Ella reached for the doorknob and opened it.

When the classroom door opened, heads turned toward them. Several girls were already sitting at their respective desks. Some were reading. Some were chatting quietly. Some were typing on laptops. Some were daydreaming by the window.

"Fancy seeing you two late."

The voice came from the second row, right in the middle. Iris—with wavy brown hair falling to her shoulders and sharp green eyes that always seemed to be reading something—smiled faintly. A smile that was hard to guess. Was she joking? Was she mocking? Was she serious? No one knew.

Iris stood up and walked toward Ella and Mira with casual steps. Her eyes moved quickly—observing Ella’s still-annoyed face, then Mira’s smiling face as usual.

"And why does Ella look so annoyed?"Iris continued when she was close enough. Her eyebrow rose slightly. Her eyes narrowed. "Did something happen on the way?"

Mira answered before Ella could speak. Mira was like that—quick to speak, quick to smile, quick to lighten the mood.

"So, like, there was this guy who bumped into Mira. He looked really rushed, sweating, his suit was wrinkled, his tie was crooked, his clothes—"

"Wrinkled,"Ella cut in flatly.

"Yeah, wrinkled,"Mira continued enthusiastically. "And he just said ’sorry’ and ran away. Ella got really mad."

"Mira isn’t mad?" asked Iris.

"Mira isn’t, really. Mira thinks he didn’t mean it. But Ella—"

"Enough, Mira,"Ella cut in. Her face was starting to flush because Mira was telling everything in unnecessary detail.

Iris smiled widely. "Oh, so that’s why Ella looks so annoyed. I thought it was something more serious, like Ella failing an exam or—"

"I never fail exams,"Ella interrupted.

"Or Ella being insulted,"Iris continued, unbothered. "Turns out it’s just a random guy who bumped into Mira."

"That’s already serious enough!"Ella almost shouted.

"Should I go hit that man?"

A heavy voice from behind made Ella turn around. At the back of the class, a girl with long white hair reaching her waist and cold pale blue eyes stared at them with a blank expression. Nora. Her hands were already clenched on the desk. The book in front of her was already closed.

"Maybe he was trying to do something to Mira,"Nora continued, her tone serious. There was no joking tone in her voice. There never was. Nora was always serious. "I can find him. I can hit him. I can—"

"I don’t think that’s necessary,"Mira said quickly. Her eyes widened slightly. "Mira really doesn’t feel like anything happened. He just bumped into Mira a little. And according to Mira, he didn’t seem like a bad person."

"Naive. You’re too naive, Mira."

Iris smiled again. Her smile was wide. Her eyes sparkled. She began to approach Mira with slow, deliberate steps, like a predator approaching its prey. Her hand reached for Mira’s chin, lifting it slightly.

"You’ll meet a dangerous man one day if you keep being like this,"Iris said dramatically. "You’ll be taken in a car to an unknown place. Then you’ll be locked in a dark room with no windows. Then you’ll be forced—"

"Enough, enough!"

Ella cut in with a firm voice. She stepped forward, pulling Mira aside, away from Iris. Mira’s face had already turned slightly red from being teased, but she still smiled. She always smiled.

"Don’t tease Mira anymore, Iris. What if she gets traumatized by men?"

Iris shrugged. "What can I do? It’s for her own good. So Mira will be more cautious."

"Your way of teaching caution isn’t helpful."

"It’s the best way."

"It’s the worst way."

Iris laughed softly, then walked back to her desk. She sat down and opened her book casually, as if nothing had happened.

Ella sighed. She pulled Mira to their seats—two desks in the middle row, by the window facing the small garden. Their favorite spot since the first day. From here, they could see outside, see the leaves moving in the wind, see the birds that sometimes perched on the fence.

Ella sat down. Mira sat in front of her. The atmosphere began to return to normal.

"Ella."

Another voice called from the desk near the window across the room. Aria—a girl with black hair always tied back neatly, not a single strand loose—looked at Ella with big eyes full of worry. Her eyes were like a deer’s eyes, always alert to danger. Her hand held a pen, but she wasn’t writing.

"Ella, do you know about the new teacher who’s going to be our homeroom teacher?" asked Aria in a slightly trembling voice. "I heard from some people. I’m worried. What if that teacher is mean? What if he... hates us?"

Ella shook her head.

"I don’t know yet, Aria. There’s no official information about a new teacher coming. What I know is, we still don’t have a homeroom teacher since we’ve been in this class."

"Well, what can you do," came a voice from behind Aria.

Eve—a girl with round glasses that always seemed too big for her face and bright blue hair that stood out among the dark-haired heads—didn’t lift her face from her laptop. Her hands were still typing something at high speed. Her laptop screen showed lines of code that Ella couldn’t read.

"We’re an outcast class,"Eve continued flatly. "No teacher wants to teach us. So we’re just left alone. No homeroom teacher. No one cares. Maybe the new teacher won’t come. Maybe it’s just a rumor. Maybe—"

"Eve,"Ella cut in.

Eve stopped typing. She lifted her head, looking at Ella with eyes behind her round glasses. She didn’t answer. She lowered her head back to her laptop and continued typing.

Eve’s words hung in the air. Outcast class. Those words were simple, but heavy. Everyone in this class knew what they meant. They didn’t need an explanation.

For a moment, the room fell silent.

No one spoke.

Rin, who was usually noisy, fell quiet. Nora, who was always alert, looked down. Luna, sitting in the corner with half-closed eyes, lifted her head slightly. Fay, who was drawing in her notebook, stopped, her hand hanging in the air. Aria bit her lip. Iris smiled faintly, but there was no joy in her eyes.

Silence.

Only the sound of Eve’s fingers typing on her laptop.

Outcast class.

That was who they were.

The silence lasted quite a while. Maybe a minute. Maybe two. Hard to tell when time feels like it’s moving so slowly.

The second bell rang. Longer than the first bell. The bell that signaled that lessons officially began and all students should already be in their respective classrooms.

But no teacher came.

No footsteps in the hallway.

No knock on the door.

As usual, class IX-9 was left empty without a teacher. Sometimes a teacher would stop by—usually just to give an assignment and leave without explaining anything. But today, there was no one.

"Maybe our new teacher isn’t coming,"Mira whispered quietly from the front desk. Her face looked a little sad, even though she still smiled. Mira always smiled.

Ella didn’t answer. She was busy watching the door.

Her eyes didn’t blink.

Then she heard something.

Tap...

Footsteps. Far away. Faint. Maybe from the end of the hallway.

Tap... tap...

Getting louder.

Tap... tap... tap...

Getting closer.

All the girls in class IX-9 turned toward the door.

Rin stopped biting the tip of her pen. Nora lifted her head, eyes narrowing. Iris stopped writing. Aria held her breath. Fay, who was drawing, stopped, her hand hanging in the air with a pencil between her fingers. Luna, sitting in the corner with half-closed eyes, opened them wide.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The footsteps stopped right in front of class IX-9’s door.

Silence.

"No one’s coming in,"Mira whispered to Ella, who sat behind her. Her voice was barely audible.

Ella blinked. Why did he stop?

Then—

Creak.

The classroom door opened slowly.

A man stepped in.

He was wearing a black suit that was wrinkled—but not messy. Still neat in the sense that none of the buttons were undone and the collar was still straight. But the creases on the sleeves and back of the suit showed that the owner didn’t take care of the clothes properly.

His red tie was tilted slightly to the left. His pants were gray, completely mismatched with his black suit. Sweat was still on his forehead, even though he had tried to wipe it with his sleeve before entering.

The man walked to the center of the room with stiff movements. Awkward. Like he wasn’t used to standing in front of many people. Or like he was trying very hard to look normal—but failing completely. Every step was calculated, measured, as if he was walking through a minefield, not inside a classroom.

He stood right in front of the blackboard. White chalk was already available on the board. An eraser was beside it.

His eyes moved quickly—scanning the room, looking at each of the nine girls’ faces one by one.

Ella held her breath.

That face...

The scar on the cheek...

Messy hair...

That’s the man who bumped into Mira in the alley.

The man took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell. His hand—which seemed to tremble slightly—reached for the chalk on the board.

He wrote something.

K A I A R D E N

Two words. A name. All capital letters. Neat. Firm.

The man put down the chalk. He turned to face the class. His mouth opened, ready to speak—

"Hello, my name is Kai Ar—"

"AAAAAAHHHHH!"

A loud scream cut off his words.

Mira Elno stood up from her desk, eyes wide. Her usually cheerful face had turned into pure shock. Her hand pointed straight at the man, trembling.

"THAT’S THE MAN WHO BUMPED INTO MIRA!"

Silence.

Class IX-9 fell silent.

Rin opened her mouth, then closed it again. Nora blinked. Iris smiled widely—this time a genuine smile, because she was enjoying this chaos. Aria started biting her nails. Eve lifted her head from her laptop for the first time since earlier. Luna observed with sharp eyes. Fay giggled softly—for whatever reason.

Ella covered her face with her palm.

God.

Why him?

That annoying man from the alley.

Our new teacher.

The man—Kai Arden—stood stiffly in the middle of the room. His face was blank, like a stone that couldn’t express emotion. But there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. Genuine confusion. As if he truly didn’t understand why a girl was screaming and pointing at him.

"Sorry," he said softly. His voice was deep, heavy, but not threatening. "I was really... in a hurry earlier."

"In a hurry?!"

Ella couldn’t hold back. She stood up from her desk. Her chair was pushed back with a loud noise. Her eyes stared at Kai with an anger that couldn’t be extinguished.

"You bumped into my friend, said sorry casually, then ran away! And now you show up here as our new teacher?!"

Kai blinked. Once. Twice.

"...Yes."

"Yes?!"

"I’m sorry,"Kai repeated. This time a little deeper, a little more serious. His tone changed—not flat anymore, but still not quite warm. "I didn’t have time earlier. I had to see the principal to report in. And I... I’m not used to wearing a suit."

He looked down—at his wrinkled black suit, at his mismatched gray pants, at his dress shoes that looked too new compared to the rest of his outfit.

"It took me a long time to put it on,"Kai continued flatly. "I was almost late. I panicked. I ran. I bumped into someone. Sorry."

He bowed slightly. Just slightly. Not a full ninety degrees. Enough to show respect, but not excessive.

"Iris thinks that’s a good excuse,"Iris cut in from her desk. Her eyes narrowed, examining Kai from head to toe. "But still, bumping into someone and running away can’t just be forgiven like that."

"Mira already said, Mira’s fine..."Mira said softly. Her face was still a little red from embarrassment. "Maybe he didn’t mean it. Come on, come on, don’t keep scolding him."

But Ella wasn’t finished.

"Who are you? Where are you from? What are your qualifications as a teacher? Why were you placed in our class? Who placed you here? What’s your relationship with Leonhard?"

One by one, questions came out of Ella’s mouth like bullets. Her voice was cold. Sharp. Her eyes didn’t blink. She wouldn’t let this stranger—with a wrinkled suit and a scar on his cheek—just become their homeroom teacher.

Kai looked at Ella.

Long.

Silent.

The whole class IX-9 was silent.

Rin held her breath. Nora narrowed her eyes. Iris smiled. Aria bit her nails. Eve stayed quiet. Luna observed. Fay smiled emptily.

"Kai Arden,"Kai finally said. His voice was soft, but every word was clear. "My name is Kai Arden. I was sent by Leonhard. I will be your homeroom teacher starting today."

He paused. His eyes moved from one face to another.

"And I will try to be a good teacher."

No one spoke.

Ella was still standing. Her hands were still clenched at her sides. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Kai Arden.

Sent by Leonhard.

Their new homeroom teacher.

The man who bumped into Mira in the alley.

The man with the scar on his cheek.

The man with those empty eyes.

Ella sat back down. Slowly. Her eyes remained fixed on Kai.

There’s something wrong with this man, Ella thought.

He’s not like ordinary teachers.

There’s something in his eyes.

Something he’s not showing.

I’m going to find out.

One by one.