Chapter Text
This fanfiction is fanfiction. Please pardon the lack of brain cells.
In a college that appeared to be utterly normal, the sound of the school bell ringing reverberated across the school grounds.
A boy dashed in through the gates, bag haphazardly slung over his shoulder and cursing quietly under his breath. Sandwiched between two crows and arching over the open gates was a sign that read ‘Night Raven’.
Suddenly, the campus was flooded with excited screams, the noise so loud it completely drowned out the sound of the school bell. Confused, the boy looks back to see a trail of girls marching enthusiastically. Perhaps there was some movie shooting near the school, the boy thought and shrugged it off.
Trying to navigate a wide campus with just the campus map, with its tiny letters was a feat he was sure would be manageable enough.
Clearly, he had overestimated how confusing it would be, as he was several feet away from a dorm he did not know the name of. He pushed through the crowd, struggling to find some kind of sign to find his way. The important question of ‘Why was there a crowd in front of a dorm?’ did not register to him until it was too late.
The dorm gates opened and the cheering grew louder and he stood there, glued to the spot, watching the girls waving and giving gifts to a group of boys that came out.
And another.
And even more.
The boys were accepting their gifts and waving back, not fazed in the slightest, like it was some sort of daily occurrence. What in the world?!
“And just who might you be?” A deep voice asked. A tall man stepped in beside the boy, and the abrupt appearance almost made him jump. It probably didn’t help that he was dressed in a mixture of dark colours, and a weird mask with an added effect that made his eyes look like little golden circles.
“Uh… I’m…,” the boy started, but before he could answer, his eardrums were attacked by the piercing screams of the fans. The crowd certainly loved these boys, and they weren’t afraid to express it at all. He tried to block out the noise with his hands but it didn’t do much. The boy dropped his hands to his sides, defeated.
“These girls are waiting to greet the students from Night Raven College,” said the man casually, holding up his camera and snapping… some photos?
“Greetings for the… college students?” the boy asked in confusion and disbelief. Why were the people this excited and why was this man taking their pictures?
“This isn’t your ordinary college,” the man said. He took a quick look at the camera screen. He nodded to himself, pleased with his work, and continued to take more.
“They choose their students based on their appearances rather than their grades,” he added, snapping more pictures. Somehow he seemed slightly out of place, far too overdressed for a campus staff, with his watchcoat - that resembled bird wings - on top his vest, draped over his shoulders and black feathers curling out from its blue collar. Someone was taking the bird theme really seriously it seemed.
“Also this school has many sister schools around the globe, so they are well-known internationally!”
“Wow,” the boy blurted out, looking at the hoards of people swarming around the boys with presents.
The camera shuttered again. This time, it was aimed towards a boy with spiky white hair and wolf ears, whose gift bags swayed along with his stern yet sprightly walk, and a blue-haired boy with… flaming hair who quietly accepted the boxes with stiff nods. He looked downright terrified, was he ok?
“But all the students live in a dorm, so your only chance to see them…”
Click. Click. The man continued taking the photos.The boy looked around, at some of the tinsel bordered signs. They had handwritten notes on them such as, ‘I waited for you’, ‘I love you’, ‘Marry me, Jamil’, ‘I would sell my family for you’, to quote a few of them.
“-is that 30m distance between their dormitory and the school.”
“Is that so? So this is that kind of school,” the boy said to himself. Despite what he said, the boy did in fact, not know what kind of school it was. However, he did have two words to sum it up: fucking crazy.
“Come, come, we have photos for sale!” A loud voice echoed throughout the street.
“We have all the good-looking guys’ pictures for sale! Night Raven College photos exclusively on sale, right here!”
A familiar voice added. The crowd started to flock towards the back and when he turned around to look, he saw the man standing near a stall.
“What the- ”
How did he get there? He was standing beside him just now! Aside from the shock factor of it, there was another reason he was surprised.
From what they were saying, it sounded like it would be photos of scenic views of the school. However, the stall the man was standing in front of had several photos of the beautiful boys in their uniforms; heck, they were even ranked in order of their handsomeness. There was also another ranking list – best sellers. Oh, so maybe that’s where the signs, fans, and banners with their faces come from. They had a merch store, an unofficial one, the boy concluded.
He squinted his eyes at the photo stall. “Isn’t that a breach of privacy?”
The man must have heard him – the boy heard him pause for a moment before he continued his sales pitch with a megaphone that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere.
“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” The boy sweatdropped.
“Today you’re making money without our permission again?” a voice asked from behind.
“Novel rhythm college…” the man sighed through his teeth.
“Novel rhythm college?” the boy tilted his head.
“That’s right. We come from Night Raven College’s sister school,” said a silver-haired boy, hand on his chest and a modest smile on his lips.
“Our mission is to help students of Night Raven College enjoy their school life. And I am Azul Ashengrotto of Novel Rhythm College.”
“With…”
Three more students appeared behind him and chimed in a sing-song voice, holding silvery pom poms. The boy caught one of them before it could hit him in the eye.
“Octavinelle ~ ”
“Yuu, you still need more practice,” Azul said sternly, the same time the boy thought, Is this really necessary? Is this a fever dream or is this school just that weird? One more weird thing and I’m gonna pinch myself to wake up.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Yuu apologized in a hurry and grabbed the pom pom from the boy’s hands, “Please give that back.”
“Leave this place at once,” said Azul in an officious fashion.
The boys formed a neat queue and followed Azul. The first blue-green haired boy echoed Azul’s sentiment calmly. “Please leave.”
Another identical boy, the hair parted in the opposite direction being the only indicator that — wasn’t seeing double, also said with a grin, “Please leave.”
And finally, Yuu added with a stiff nod. “Please leave.”
“Excuse me, you say I have no permission but I’m-”
“Octavin…” Azul whipped around, cutting off the black bird-themed man’s protests.
“...nelle!” The boys parroted.
“I am-” The camera-man started, one hand on his chest, but Azul cut him off with a self-satisfied nod. “Please leave this place.” The other Octavinelle trio also nodded along simultaneously.
Saccharine smiles wiped from their faces, they turned around and left.
“I can’t keep up with their energy,” the man sighed.
“Girl, me too,” the boy sighed.
“...girl?”
“What?”
The man turned around and looked around him, but no one was beside him and the stall, save for the fans that crowded the street.
“That was a close call,” you heave out as you finally get to the building.
“You have to speak like a boy, dammit,” you scold yourself. As if joining this school a month after courses have started wouldn’t already garner attention.
From the corner of your eye, you can see a giant notice board. On it was a clumsily written yet somewhat clear message 'Please keep your belongings in a locker. The school is not responsible for any ghost-related loss of personal items.'
“Where are the-”
There was also an arrow drawn on the bottom of the board, pointing to the direction of the lockers, except it was an actual arrow stuck onto the board. This school is a safety hazard, you thought to yourself.
You turn to the direction the arrow pointed and yelp out once you see the lockers, and for good reason - who in their right minds made lockers resembling coffins?
Shaking off your shock, you try to find a locker that was not locked. There was nobody in the hall and you weren’t sure where they kept the keys so as of now, just a random vacant cof- locker will have to do.
But all of them were occupied. “Where’s my locker?” You pant as you pull at them, trying to open them one by one. “Huh? Ow-” you grunt as you bump into someone.
“Ooh-” The person you ran into also groaned the same time you let out an apologetic “Ah!”
The person hissed and clutched at their abdomen. Hair in a side part that was white and the other section black, which was mirrored by the vest he wore, except it was on opposite sides this time. A black shirt underneath was paired with a red necktie and he was also wearing a white coat, similar to a doctor’s. Perhaps he worked here.
Accident immediately forgotten, you quickly asked the man for help, you didn’t want to be more late than you were. “Can you tell me where I should put my stuff?”
“Anywhere is fine, I guess,” said the man with a pained hiss, that to you, seemed quite theatrical. Was bumping into you that painful?
“There we go!” You stuffed your items - just a heavy textbook you didn’t want to carry at the moment - into the locker. You paid no mind to the squeaky clean sports shoes that were at the bottom of the locker, lost in your own tunnel vision to find a vacant locker.
“Are you Nemo Maine?” the man asked behind you.
You spun around, squinting your eyes at him, a mix of confusion and exhaustion from your earlier dash. “Yes, that’s me.”
The man readjusted the collar of his coat and stared at you, taking a step closer. You took a step back, even more confused by his scrutinizing gaze, and found yourself back to back with the lockers. “Erm, what?” you asked, hesitant.
The man just hummed, and after sparing a quick look at his watch, asked you as he lifted his wrist to show you the time.
“Do you think you still have time?”
You grabbed his hand to get a closer look. Almost nine thirty.
“Oh, shoot!”
And just like that, your feet were moving before you could think.
“Thank you!” you looked back as you were running to your class.
“Where did you live in the kingdom of heroes?” the man asked but you had already left.
Meanwhile, in the classroom, a redhead and his friend group’s chatter, as well as the ruckus of the whole room was cut off by an enthusiastic announcement from a fellow student.
“Breaking news! Listen up, everyone! We’re getting a new transfer student!”
“Seriously?!”
“Also, he’s from the Kingdom of Heroes!”
The students erupted into cheers.
“Which means muscles!”
“Muscles and sporty!”
“So a he-man!”
Even louder shouts of approval.
“All right, everyone! Everyone? Everyone!” The redhead called out, “On that note, we all know what to do, right?”
A synchronized cry from all the students, “Yes!”
“Woo! Woohoo!” There were more cheers throughout the room, the students fired up by the new revelation.
The teacher, a man in his 30s or maybe 40s, walked in with a holler. “Settle down!”
“I’m your homeroom teacher again,” he said as he walked to his table, his sea green coat swaying with his walk.
He stared at the students as he stood in front of the blackboard, one golden mechanical eye glinting under the light, and all the students steadily returned to their places and sat down.
“I look forward to it,” the man smiled, waving his hand at the door.
“Now, let me introduce you to the student from the Kingdom of Heroes.”
“Come on in!”
The students all cheered, letting out hoots and whoops and some chanting out their own form of bravo. “Welcome to the Island of Sages!"
On the other side of the door, you adjusted your belt and tried to hype yourself up. “Let’s go!” you told yourself, fist pumping the air.
The loud applause you got when the door opened died down as you walked in.
A redhead, that looked a little familiar to you, paused. “He doesn’t look like a-”
“-he-man,” one other student whispered in disappointment.
“If I had to say, he looks very… normal.”
“Maybe he’s half-centaur?” Another added.
Your eye twitched at their little discussion. They could at least try to be quiet.
Keeping your composure, you walked to the front of the class as the teacher wrote down your name.
Nemo Maine.
“Ahh, what’s with that name?”
“I can’t even read it!”
You loudly cleared your throat in an attempt to calm your nerves.
“I’m Nemo Maine,” you said simply. “Nice to meet you.”
That seemed to be the breaking point somehow.
“He’s just normal!”
The class broke down into laughter.
“Get along with him everyone!” The teacher tiredly called out.
“Yes, sir!”
The teacher sighed as he looked down at his desk. “I’ve forgotten some materials. Stay quiet while waiting for me, understood?” He waved his arm and left.
As you stared at him walk away, you saw something flickering in the light as he moved. Was that a mechanical arm and leg, you blinked, remembering to ask him the seating plan a little too late.
“Wait-”
But he had already left.
Unbeknownst to you, the redhead at the back kicked a ball in your direction. The ball bounced off the walls and hit you square in your forehead. “Ouch!”
“Goal!”
Another ball whizzed to you from the left. You quickly blocked it with a book. Then, a tennis ball from the right. Again, you blocked it.
Impressed ‘oooh’s and hums echoed in the room. You nodded to yourself, pleased with the turn of events.
Then a giant steel cauldron fell right on top of your head.
Thud! Thud! Dang!
The class bursted into laughter once again.
You stared at the ceiling in confusion and irritation. Where and how…
The redhead laughed, pulling you by your shoulders and pointing at you as he said to his classmates, “I think he’s angry.”
Laughter roared again from the crowd and you threw his arm off your shoulder with an exasperated huff.
“Hey, transfer student!” One boy asked with a grin. “Are you okay?”
More laughter, this time even louder.
“Nemo, Nemo!” Another boy called out. “Your seat’s over here.” He grinned, pointing at a desk, and tired of all the chaos of the day already, you started to walk over to the seat.
You put your bag on the desk, with a little too much force and eyeing in mild dismay at the boys who were still laughing and sniggering.
Then, someone barked out from outside the class, “Hey, whose textbook is this?”
A hand shot out from the door, and you could spot the giant jellyfish sticker - your brother insisted you had your own signature ‘mark’ so as to not lose the book.
“What?” One boy shot up from the desk beside you. “Won’t you say something like ‘Oh, Styx!?”
“What a geeky transfer student!” his friend snickered beside you, sitting down with a dramatic flourish.
“Don’t put your things in other people’s lockers,” said the boy from outside the class, still holding up your textbook.
With an exasperated huff, you walked over to him, ready to grab the book out of his hands. “Shut up!” You snapped, fed up with everything these boys were making you go through. All you wanted was a peaceful morning.
“Do you want to fight?” you started, but stopped once you were in front of him.
The boy in front of you had dark-brown hair that goes below his shoulders, with long, side-parted bangs that fall over his right eye. Two braids on each side of his face and brown lion ears on the top of his head.
There was a thin scar over his left eye, which was emerald green, extremely irritated and looking down at you in a death stare.
“Leona Kingscholar,” you voiced your thoughts.
“That is what is written on my locker."
You pursed your lips, staring at him.
You finally meet him. You disguised yourself and enrolled in an all-boys school to-
Your inner monologue was cut off by an irritated click of a tongue and a weight on your head. “Here you go, shortie.” Leona placed the textbook on your head, and walked into the classroom.
