Chapter Text
So basically, I’ve been diagnosed with seasonal depression. My friend took me to this “Throwing Axe” place, where we had a wonderful three-hour therapy session with axes and a wall.
I love the sound of axes hitting wood. It’s… refreshing.
“You’re a maniac,” my friend said cheerfully. “Anyway, see you at school. Don’t bring a gun.”
I laughed.
At that point, I thought my biggest source of stress was the math quiz the next day.
I was wrong.
Later that night, I was… summoned. Or something like that. I don’t really know. A crow-masked guy in a strange robe said a bunch of things about a magical school and students being chosen by a dark mirror. The words went straight through my ears.
You learn to ignore people in crow masks when you’ve lived long enough in New York.
“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?!”
The cat—with blue fire coming out of its ears—jumped up and scratched my shirt, so I dragged it away by the back of the neck.
And you definitely don’t listen to talking cats.
“The name is Grim!” it screamed.
What did I say about seasonal depression? Why am I in a dark room full of coffins and hooded cultists, with a talking cat named Grim?
I suspect this isn’t just winter of the year, but winter of civilization itself. I need sunlight. Even artificial sunlight.
“I need to go back now. Mr. Crow-face—”
“Crowley.”
What a convenient name. “Mr. Crowley, please send me back using this mirror—whatever it is. Thank you very much.”
Mr. Crowley shook his head. “As I was saying, the mirror couldn’t find the place you mentioned. New York? Is that somewhere remote?”
He has to be kidding.
I took a deep breath and argued with him for at least an hour. I know people were watching. I snarled at them; so did the cat.
I started liking it immediately.
After the horrible realization that I couldn’t get home right now, exhaustion hit me. Guess I’ll have to stay here for the night—whichever Harry Potter movie this is.
“Nice. Actually, we do have somewhere for you to live.” Mr. Crowley wiped off a nonexistent drop of sweat. “Come with me.”
So me and my cat were led to a room full of dust, broken windows, and spiderwebs.
Good. I don’t think my math quiz is very important right now.
They call me the janitor of Ramshackle Dorm. There isn’t much dorm in it, but plenty of ramshackle, so I don’t consider it a real job. Besides, I get paid by cleaning windows. Is that what janitors do?
I’ve read novels and watched movies about human high schoolers accidentally entering magical worlds. Most of them get powers afterward. I guess that kind of luck doesn’t apply to me.
“What? You don’t want magic? Then you’re going to be my sidekick forever.” Grim grinned.
“I’m not saying I don’t want it. I’m saying I don’t need it.”
“Magic is necessary in this world! Look around! If you had magic, we could light up this cold room in the blink of an eye!”
Whoop!
My axe bit into the wood with a wet thud, followed by a sharp crack.
“That’s what fire is for. Does this world have Prometheus?” I said, feeding the wood into the stove and lighting it.
I’m glad they still have a tool room in this broken place, even if it’s as dusty as everything else. I found hammers, axes, knives, and chainsaws. They might not survive magical fire for even a second, but having them in my hands gives me power.
I sat by the fireplace, painting a bleached-out chainsaw pink using the “magical” paint I’d just bought from Sam’s shop. He has everything.
“Why are you painting it pink?” Grim asked, sitting beside me.
“Because I like pink. It’s girly,” I said casually.
Grim laughed. “I don’t see anything girly about a chainsaw.”
“That’s sexist.”
“You’re the one bringing gender stereotypes into color! And why do you even like girly things? Are you a girl?”
I frowned. I get that cats don’t care about human gender—I don’t care about Grim’s either. I call it it.
“I’m a girl,” I explained.
“Wait, wha—”
A frantic knock interrupted us. Before I could answer, the door opened by itself.
I really need to fix that lock someday.
Standing outside was a redheaded boy with a red heart on his face—and on his neck.
“Whoa, Ace. I like your fashion sense, but that’s too many repeating elements,” I said, looking him up and down.
Ace looked grumpy.
I’d met him and Deuce a few days ago, when we kind of blew up the mines. I like Ace’s sarcasm when it’s aimed at someone else. When it’s aimed at me, I want to spank him until he begs.
He flopped onto the sofa I’d just cleaned without warning.
“What happened?” I signed.
Grim jumped in. “Did you know Yuu is a girl?”
Ace wasn’t listening. He waved a hand. “Yeah, whatever. I can’t go back to Heartslabyul. I’m staying here for now.”
“Whaaaaaat?”
So Ace’s Housewarden sealed his magic because he ate a tart without permission.
I’m starting to miss my math assignments. At least they have some logic.
“Buy him a new one,” I suggested.
“It was handmade.”
“Then MAKE him a new one!” My chainsaw cracked under my grip.
Ace sighed. “Probably the only way. I’ll try tomorrow.”
Sounds reasonable.
“But don’t you think it’s a bit much?” He added. “Cutting people’s heads off over a tart?”
Just when I thought Ace was falling asleep, he jumped up again.
I don’t know. Taking over someone’s sofa in the middle of the night is also a bit much, but humans never really understand each other.
“I’m charging you for the sofa. Help me paint if you’re not sleeping,” I said.
Ace grumbled but came over anyway. Sitting beside me, he started painting my axe pink. The heavy collar on his neck dragged his shoulders down, making him look a little pathetic.
“I hate not having magic,” he muttered. “The paint would’ve been on instantly.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“It’s different. You never depended on magic.”
Sometimes Ace can say something reasonable, when his only two brain cells are working properly. I guess you don’t want to go back crawling on the ground if you already know how running feels like.
“But you mages can’t use too much magic also, right? I think it was brought up in our Magic History classes,” I recalled the desperation of having to learn history about something I will never be able to use. It’s starting to mix up with American History in my head, so I think there will be a struggle when I get back to my hometown.
Ace looked at me suspiciously. “You actually learned in Magic History? I thought you were always sleeping.”
“I listen while I sleep. It’s my unique magic.”
He laughed. I think his mood lifted a little.
The axe came out perfect—pink, clean, not a drop of paint on the blade.
“Thanks,” I said. “You can use my sofa as long as you want.”
I couldn’t help but start swinging it in the air. It made some satisfying “whoosh” sound, mixed with the scream of Grim and Ace.
Ace, because he is a Night Raven student, and because all Night Ravens bargain, tried to argue. “Can I squeeze in your bed instead? I’m quiet and slim, like a noodle.”
“You have a completely normal body for a teenager.”
“I—uh—I wasn’t insecure—”
“Sorry. Fine.”
I didn’t mind. I’d shared beds with friends before. Or more-than-friends. Gender isn’t that important.
So I was surprised when Grim shrieked, “NO!!!”
“Why?” Ace asked.
“Because a boy and a girl can’t sleep in the same bed!”
…Okay. I don’t know why a cat has moral standards for humans, but sure.
“Is that a school rule?” I asked Ace.
He didn’t answer.
His face went pale.
“A… a girl?” he stammered.
“No shit.”
“Do I even look like a tomboy?” I growled. “I have a ponytail.”
“I—I assumed,” he rushed. “It’s a boys’ school! And have you seen Pomefiore—”
“I’m not exactly a student,” I said flatly.
“I said I’m sorry…”
“I’m not mad. I’m just confused. Bed or sofa?” I raised my voice—and my pink axe.
“…Sofa,” Ace muttered.
Grim sneered.
Turns out Riddle Rosehearts, Ace’s Housewarden, is indeed a tyrant. I thought Ace was exaggerating.
That was after me, Grim, Ace, and Deuce spent the whole day making the chestnut tart. We planned to give it to Riddle as an apology at the party.
The Unbirthday Party was fancy as hell. Everyone was wearing Heartslabyul dorm clothes—red, white, blue, and gold. They were fiercely gorgeous.
“I want to be in uniform too. Can you make me one, with the magical thing?” I tugged at Ace.
Ace pointed at the lock on his neck, wordlessly.
“Deuce? Please!”
Deuce looked embarrassed. “We haven’t learned how to change uniforms with spells yet. Ah—let me ask Cater!”
Cater is the older one with orange hair. He’s basically a social media addict, and I guess he does have taste.
“Of course. You want any personal changes?” Cater smiled.
I thought for a moment. “How about a white skirt inside? That would be nice.”
Deuce looked taken aback. “Why would you like a skirt? Well, I did see someone in our school wearing a dress that day, but…”
I was about to say something, but Ace dragged me to the side.
“Do you wanna bet on how long it’ll take him to figure it out?” he smirked.
“Figure out what? That I’m a girl?”
“Duh. He’ll definitely freak out.”
Personally, I don’t think he would. But it sounds fun.
“Alright.”
We ended our whispering and went back to Cater. I changed my mind. “White jeans are fine.”
Cater smiled a mysterious smile and changed my clothes. Now I also had a rose on my chest, feeling somewhat closer to the students around me.
A short king—sorry, Queen—came marching toward us. His hair looked like red wine, cloak flying in the air.
That’s a lot of energy for a kid.
“That’s not a kid! That’s our Housewarden, Riddle,” Ace whispered in my ear.
Oh. I imagined him to be… scarier.
“He is the scariest creature on land. What are you talking about?!” Deuce hissed.
Well. I guess.
Until Riddle angrily spilled out words about throwing away our precious chestnut tart.
“A rule?” I couldn’t help saying it out loud. “What kind of stupid rule is that?”
Riddle stared at me fiercely. “What did you just call me? Stupid?”
“Yeah. That’s what I called you. Why? Are you also part deaf?” I huffed.
I saw Riddle’s face turning red. But Ace smirked, so I consider that a win.
“You little—”
The sophomores tried to calm things down, but they couldn’t, with Ace and Deuce adding remarks. Grim started calling Riddle a kid throwing a tantrum, so—
“Off with your head!”
Silence.
Grim and Deuce got their necks locked too, meaning magic off.
Well.
What was I afraid of, then?
I came with a cheap handbag tied with ribbons. I put it down and pulled out the axe Ace painted yesterday, with a pink handle.
“Wha—”
“Sto—”
“An axe?”
What’s in my mind was simple. If you’re throwing away the food we made, then how about none of us having this goddamn party?
I aimed at the rose tree, full of roses that we painted red.
Roses don’t grow on trees anyway.
“Yuu! Stop!”
Deuce grabbed my waist from behind. He basically hugged me, his ragged breath in my ear.
Ace pulled the two of us out of the party while mumbling, “Good lord. We have an even crazier one on our side.”
I didn’t want to hurt either of them, so I put the axe down.
As we were dragged out, I looked into Riddle’s furious eyes and grinned.
“Yuu?”
“Huh?”
“You keep saying you’re here by mistake. I don’t think you are,” Ace grimaced. “You probably don’t have magic, but the Dark Mirror chose you for a reason.”
I huffed.
“Were you an axe murderer back in your world?” Deuce asked warily.
“No. I’m a high schooler, just like you,” I said. “And I prefer chainsaws. They were too big for my handbag, though.”
Ace and Deuce exchanged a look.
“That’s my sidekick!” Grim jumped up and down excitedly.
I hugged it tightly, trying—and failing—to suffocate it.
The green-headed sophomore, Trey, sat beside us in the library, unsure when to speak.
I cued him. “So you were saying?”
Trey sighed. “Riddle has a strict mom and a terrible childhood. I just… can’t say anything harsh to his face.”
“So because he grew up like that, he mistakes control for love. Because that’s all he knows,” I reflected.
“Exactly.”
Ace suddenly said, “Then it’s all your fault, Mr. Trey.”
Trey’s eyes widened.
I wanted to high-five Ace for saying it out loud.
“What do you mean…?”
“You know where he’s heading, and you let him go there because you pity him. That’s not what childhood friends do. That’s not what any friend should do,” Ace continued.
I couldn’t look away from his moving lips.
“Ace?” I asked.
“What? It’s not that harsh.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Ace rolled his eyes. “Stop messing around, you psychopath.”
I laughed. “That’s what I’m saying, Trey. Don’t play gentle parent. If Riddle wants to be a child, he shouldn’t be Housewarden. If he wants the position, he needs to do better.”
Just then, Mr. Suspicious Crowley walked by and told us to be quiet—by yelling louder than anyone.
“You can challenge him to a duel if you want his position,” Crowley snickered.
“May I?” I raised my hand.
“He’ll burn you in a second,” Deuce said mercilessly.
I snorted. “Not if we’re close up. He’s tiny. I can squeeze him.”
I was bragging. I know Muay Thai and BJJ, but magic is another thing entirely.
If only I had a semi-automatic weapon…
While I was thinking American, Ace made his decision.
“I’m challenging Riddle to a duel,” he said firmly.
Deuce looked excited. Grim was grim, because it couldn’t challenge another Housewarden. And I wanted to watch.
“Need help with weapons?” I offered.
Crowley wagged a finger. “Magic only, dear.”
I shrugged. Out of my league.
Ace looked terrified, which somehow made him cuter.
That night, I dreamed of Alice and the Red-Hearted Queen.
I watched the movie when I was little, so I guess the dream came from anxiety about the duel.
Who am I kidding? Anxiety? The adrenaline was excitement.
Almost as thrilling as everyday New York City.
Ace was anxious. He practiced the only two spells he knew. So did Deuce. Cauldrons were everywhere.
I kind of wanted to test my axe on them.
“You ready?” Ace fist-bumped Deuce.
“Always.”
And then—
They were taken down by Riddle in a second.
I won’t say I didn’t imagine this.
Ace punching Riddle straight in the face was surprising—but don’t lie, we all thought about it.
What followed was completely unexpected.
Riddle’s body literally blew up, turning into a creepy, oozing, giant… thing.
Only one name came to my mind.
The Red-Hearted Queen.
Or Tom Riddle? Funny coincidence.
Someone screamed. Someone froze. I pulled out my axe—because if trees are trying to kill you, it’s chopping time.
Ace looked at me through the crowd and mouthed, Run!
“I will—wait! Deuce!”
Deuce tripped.
Branches grabbed his ankle, thorns cutting into his leg. Grim tried to bite them, but the heart-shaped lock blocked him.
My foot moved before my brain.
Thunk.
Not the usual sound wood makes, but the branch fell anyway.
“Hop on!” I turned my back.
“Uh… hopping requires legs.”
Ace appeared instantly, helped Deuce onto my back, and we ran.
Not fast enough.
“Off—with—your—HEAD!”
The magic surged. Trees moved like monsters.
“Paint the roses!”
Suddenly, the thorns vanished—replaced by poker cards.
Trey stood in front of Riddle, sweat pouring down his face.
Phew.
“Lead with that!” I yelled in relief, turned around, and threw my axe at the giant.
Riddle shrank back to his normal size, looking tired and ashamed, crying hard.
I was too busy picking thorns out of Deuce’s leg; otherwise, I would’ve taken a closer look. Riddle is cuter when he’s like this. Crying and messed up, yes, but also honest for the first time.
“Ouch,” Deuce said quietly.
“Sorry.” I turned my head back, focusing on the thorns again.
Deuce smiled. “Don’t say sorry. You saved my life, Yuu. Now I owe you a big-ass one.”
He sometimes uses language like that. “Were you in a gang?” I asked.
Deuce blushed immediately. “Wha—what? No! Okay, something like that, but not like, a real gang. Just a gang of middle schoolers.”
Still.
Ace was even more distracted. He tried to clean Deuce up, being a good friend, but kept looking over at Riddle, who was lying in Trey’s arms, crying with hiccups.
“You wanna say something to him?” I knew he couldn’t hold back the urge.
Deuce laughed. “Go, Ace. I’m not a good speaker, so you can take my part too.”
“And mine,” I added, trying to take off Deuce’s shoe.
Grim went with him, saying, “I’ll say my words myself!”
Me and Deuce both laughed.
After that, Deuce added, a bit shy, “I, uh… When I first came to this school, I thought my high school life would just be me and books. I never imagined getting to know good buddies like you and Ace so fast. And Grim, of course.”
Good buddies.
Ace is right. He seriously has no clue.
I tried to hold back a grin. “Of course, Deuce. It’s my great pleasure to have met you guys too.”
Deuce looked like he was about to cry. Maybe Riddle’s sobbing set him off.
“Come on.”
Carefully avoiding his injured leg, I pulled him into a hug. I felt tears soak into my shoulder.
He probably is going to freak out when he finds out I’m a girl… Why am I kinda looking forward to it?