Transfer Student

 

Tenma had been holding himself a little aloof, glad to see Isla slipping into what he thought of as her truest form. She was an amazing kid—poised with adults, brimming with facts, and serious about contributing to class. No doubt she was going places. An elite of the highest quality. But he was in a position to know that smart kids who outranked their peers were still kids. So he never interrupted when she forgot herself and acted all twelve.

He was really curious about her bracelets. Given her parentage and patronage, he wasn’t surprised she needed the wards. Would she know how they worked? Probably. They seemed like the sort of thing Lapis had proposed to create for him. Much more durable than his little slip of paper, which was too easily lost or laundered out of existence.

The sudden clack of the opening door stirred him from his thoughts, and he glanced toward the source of the noise. A boy. Or was he an animal? His unruly hair and the set of his mouth were decidedly simian, but the thin hands clutching the door frame were certainly human.

Before he’d fully made up his mind, the stranger sprang into the room.

Papers scattered, and some of the girls shrieked. Other than Hanoo, Yoota, and Ploom, nobody really moved. He glanced at Eloquence, trying to get a feel for the situation.

Quen’s hand found his shoulder. “Stay still. He’s frightened.”

Another quick glance around the room showed the other Amaranthine similarly keeping their partners in place. Then Sentinel burst in, and the boy called Inti stopped, bare feet planted on Ms. Reeves’ lecture notes.

Tenma leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. Was that a tail?

“Oh, how nice! A crosser,” murmured Isla.

And the boy’s strange features suddenly made sense, because such things were widely reported after the birth of Ever Starmark. Crossers often inherited animalistic features that hinted at their Amaranthine parent’s nature. One of Inti’s parents had clearly come from a monkey clan.

In a low, soothing voice, Ms. Reeves addressed the class. “Inti comes to us from an enclave based in a temple, where he’s been under the oversight of monks for quite some time. With the Emergence, he’s able to come out of hiding. Spokesperson Twineshaft decided that New Saga would be the best place for him to integrate into society. And in return, you’ll all gain a greater understanding of the challenges faced by children of mixed heritage.”

“A crosser?” exclaimed Sosuke.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Inti, would you like to say a few words?”

The boy … no. Tenma knew that crossers shared an Amaranthine’s lifespan, so Inti would have to be a young man by now. Or more properly, a male nearing adulthood. Inti’s hunched posture slowly straightened so that he looked down on them. His wild hair was a light ginger. Thick sideburns bristled outward, following the curve of his jaw to his chin, framing a heart-shaped face. His lips compressed into a thin line, and small brows rose over unusually round eyes; they gave him an expression of perpetual surprise … or worry.

“Three,” he said softly. “Three, three, three.”

Tenma felt bad. To be brought into their class, only to find a roomful of established groups. He must think there was no place for him. Without really thinking it through, Tenma lurched to his feet. Holding up three fingers, he raised a fourth and hoped his meaning was clear.

Isla bounced to her feet, up on tiptoe. “Miss Reeves, both Quen and I have experience with crossers.”

“So you do. What do you say, Eloquence?”

Quen stood and signaled, and Isla added some sort of reaver sign. But Inti only looked more worried, and Tenma’s heart went out to him. So he crooked his fingers in an entirely human way. “Four.”

Inti crossed the room in two springs, flinging himself straight into Tenma.

He barely had time to set his feet when the monkey-boy collided and wrapped himself around Tenma—arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Grunting with surprise, he staggered backward into Quen’s solid presence.

The crosser was trembling, and Tenma was reminded of his own first day of school. So he hugged him and murmured promises of help and belonging. Nothing like this had ever happened to him—hugging, holding. This wasn’t how teenage boys typically behaved. New Saga was already changing him.

From across the room, Hanoo looked on with tail swaying. Ploom gave him two thumbs up.

“You’re ours now, Inti,” he murmured. “Welcome to Class 3-C.”

At the sound of his name, the crosser leaned back to meet Tenma’s gaze. His eyes were such a light brown, they were nearly golden, and his pupils were round. “Name?” he asked.

“I’m Tenma.”

“Clan?” he pressed. “House?”

“I’m human, so I don’t have those things. But my surname is Subaru.” Turning a little, he said, “Here’s Quen. He’s from a fine house and clan. Will you greet him as well?”

Inti studied Eloquence’s proffered palms and interpreted it as an invitation to transfer. Quen’s superior strength came in handy as he swung their new partner up onto his shoulders.

“No wonder you like high places. You’re related to one of the monkey clans,” Quen remarked. “Have you met Goh-sensei yet?”

“Maybe, maybe, monkey,” he answered softly, and proceeded to pull apart Quen’s braid.

Tenma may have surrendered Inti, but the crosser hadn’t fully released him. Inti’s tail was quite long, and its end was loosely wrapped around his wrist.

“My turn,” said Isla, hands outspread. “Although I won’t be able to lift you.”

Inti blinked down at her, then slid to the floor. When he fully straightened, it was possible to tell that he was a little taller than her.

With an impish smile, he echoed, “My turn,” and swept her up.

“Gently,” Tenma whispered.

“Like you,” Inti said, giving him a thin-lipped smile. Then he solemnly addressed Isla. “You are bright as an angel. Are you descended from the sky or from trees?”

So he was capable of full sentences.

Isla giggled. “I am both the child of reavers and a reaver in my own right. Would you like to meet the rest of our class?”

“Please.”

“Set me down first.”

Inti obeyed. Returning to Tenma’s side, he announced, “She is brightest, but you are best.”

“Me? Why?”

Stealing the glasses off his face, Inti squinted through them, then peered over the frames, straight into Tenma’s eyes. “Is a reason required?”

And in that instant, Tenma was absolutely positive that Inti was shamming. Not about his fear, since the Amaranthine had all picked up on that, but this monkey business. He was playing the fool, but he knew what he was about.

“No.” Tenma hesitated. “I’m afraid I don’t know much of anything about the customs of the monkey clans.”

Inti’s gaze skittered around the room before he sprang, flinging his arms around Tenma’s neck as he clambered toward a perch on his shoulders. In the process, he spoke softly, his words tickling Tenma’s ear. “That makes two of us.”