Class 3-C

 

In keeping with reaver tradition, New Saga High School began its inaugural term on the first day of the New Year. After opening assembly, Kimiko walked slowly through the halls, marveling at the sheer number of Amaranthine in attendance.

Yes, she’d had afternoon tutors from this or that clan. And sure, there were Amaranthine advisers, lecturers, and mentors among the staff at Ingress Academy. But there, most of the teachers and all of the students had been reavers. Here, at least a quarter of the student body wasn’t human.

She’d been fascinated by the clans all her life, but from a distance. Everything she knew from stories and fables now felt secondhand and stale. Because this was vividly, dazzlingly real. Did reavers of the upper ranks get to mingle this freely with the Amaranthine? Envy pinched at her soul, but only for a moment. Because she was intensely glad to be here.

She owed Sakiko big time.

Savor this. Never forget this. Kimiko slowed her steps even further, trying to prolong the minutes. She needed to collect every moment and keep it safe. They were limited editions in the truest, cruelest possible sense. This year might be the only time she’d ever have any lasting contact with the Amaranthine.

They were by far the most eye-catching students in the halls, since they were dressed for celebration. She recognized the colors and crests of a wide range of clans—bear, dove, horse, moth, deer. She’d even spotted a phoenix during the assembly.

Hisoka Twineshaft himself had delivered the opening address, reason enough for the news crews and paparazzi cordoned off in a sizeable section to one side of the auditorium. Spokesperson Twineshaft extolled New Saga students as the world’s future, a generation committed to living in harmony. And he’d pressed home one surprising point: they weren’t the same. And they didn’t need to be. New Saga’s students would be an example to the world—exploring their differences, finding their balance, forging the bonds of trust.

She guessed that this principle explained why New Saga had such an unusual dress code. In most schools in this part of the world, no matter what grade level, differences were banished by uniforms. New Saga’s non-reavers held to this tradition with high-collared black uniforms with gold buttons for the boys, pleated skirts and wide collars with knotted scarves for the girls.

Kimiko herself was dressed in reaver garb—fitted breeches and plush winter tunics that came in a variety of muted colors depending on specialization. She wore the basic black of general studies. To her relief, most of the other reavers were the same. But several had already managed to distinguish themselves. Their tunics stood out. Willow and mulberry. Indigo and plum. Coffee and clay.

She jogged lightly up a few flights of stairs and paused at a window. The fourth floor view on this side of the building was impressive—snowy woods and a frozen lake. Property generously set aside for the school’s use by Harmonious Starmark.

A rowdy group came up behind her, and someone clipped her shoulder in passing.

“Sorry! Didn’t notice you there!” he exclaimed, hands upraised.

Wolves really did travel in packs, even here. And his remark stung more than it should have. As a reaver, she’d never had much presence.

“Oh, little sister. I’m as rude as I am clumsy.” Light brown eyes wide, tail tucking, he reached for her hand. Then dropped it as if burned. He babbled to himself in another language, then switched back to Japanese. “I don’t remember if I’m allowed to touch.”

His accent was decidedly American.

Kimiko quickly signaled to reassure him and enunciated carefully. “Local citizens will shy away from the familiarity, but reavers will understand.” Taking his hand between hers, she shyly added, “Brother wolf.”

The Amaranthine’s tail swayed, and Kimiko’s heart swelled. He seemed like such a nice guy.

He glanced along the hall, where his two packmates waited. All three of the young wolves were quite tall, broad in the shoulder, with ebony skin and shaggy black hair. He called to them in English, and their posture shifted to indicate patience. And amusement.

With more confidence, he gathered both her hands into his own. “Ploom-ret Nightspangle, but everyone calls me Ploom.”

“I’m Kimiko Miyabe, and I’m fine, Ploom. Go ahead with your packmates. We all need to get to class.”

Bending until they were nose-to-nose, he softly repeated, “Kimiko Miyabe. I will remember.”

“Find me anytime.”

His fangs flashed in a grateful grin before he hurried away.

She followed more slowly, but not so far back that she didn’t see which classroom the Nightspangle contingent entered. They were in Class 3-C.

The same as her.
 

Kimiko stepped through the classroom door and sized up the milling students. They looked like a bunch of middle schoolers at their first mixer. Only instead of boys on one end and girls on the other, their class had divided neatly into thirds.

All the Amaranthine stood at the front of the room; humans clustered at the back. And reavers fanned out between them, assuming their traditional role as gatekeepers, guardians, and go-betweens. Kimiko crossed to the long row of windows and, finding the sill wide enough, perched there to see what might happen next.

Moments later, a stocky, graying woman in a willow-green tunic strolled in and smiled sweetly. “Welcome again to New Saga! I’m Ms. Reeves, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher. My reaver designation is diplomat, and it will be my pleasure to guide your learning this year.”

Kimiko tried to place her accent, though it was faint. A lot of diplomats spent their internships in Belgium, so maybe French? She wondered if travel had contributed to the woman’s air of confident competence. Must be nice.

Ms. Reeves surveyed them, blue eyes taking on a shine. “First things first, we must overcome all this shyness. We’ll be sorting you into triads.”

“What’s a triad?” called one of the girls from the tight cluster at the back.

Their teacher acknowledged the question with a nod. “You’ll be dividing into integrated groups of three. Those representing the general populace, please take a seat at one of the tables.”

A few students moved to obey, spreading out.

Kimiko was used to classrooms with long rows of single desks, but this one almost looked like a restaurant, with comfortable seats arranged around three-sided tables. She was paying attention to other differences now. High ceilings, windows lining two walls, smooth wood underfoot, and an utter lack of light fixtures. Hanging baskets filled two corners of the room with greenery, and … yes, she was quite sure she caught a brief flutter and flash of Ephemera hiding amidst the leaves.

“One each, please,” Ms. Reeves called when two girls tried to stick together. “Since triads will remain together for the duration of the year, I will ask our Amaranthine students to decide who they would like as a partner.”

“Do Rivven always get to pick first?”

Kimiko flinched at the popular—if improper—word choice, but the boy seemed more curious than anything.

“The correct term is Amaranthine,” Ms. Reeves said firmly. “And yes. This is both a matter of courtesy and necessity. The Amaranthine will make their decision based on different criteria than you might expect. Things no human can sense or alter.”

“Like scent,” offered one of the reaver girls. “And the clarity and resonance of our souls.”

“Yes.” Ms. Reeves signaled to her inhuman students while she talked. “When you are chosen, it will be because your classmate thinks they can make lasting peace with you.”

Another hand popped up. “What do we do after we find a match?”

Kimiko had to lean to one side to see the short boy. A male phoenix stood behind him, both arms wrapped securely around his slender shoulders. Even though he wore the standard human uniform, the boy didn’t look remotely uneasy in the Amaranthine’s embrace.

Ms. Reeves glanced at her class list. “And you are…?”

“Akira Hajime, and this is my best friend Suuzu Farroost. We’ve been rooming together since middle school, so we’ve already made peace.”

“Do you want to broaden your experience by trading partners?”

Immediately, Suuzu’s hold tightened, and his eyes narrowed.

Akira’s grin was apologetic. “We’d rather stick together, sensei.”

“So I see.” The woman offered peaceable signs. “Relax, Suuzu. Your friendship with Akira is exactly the sort of camaraderie we’re trying to encourage. You may consider yourself the first pair. Once we have a few more, I’ll ask that our students of reaver descent present themselves for consideration.”

Kimiko watched in fascination as the Amaranthine considered their options. Some hung back, allowing the wolves, dog, and bear to have first choice. She knew this wasn’t any kind of hierarchy. Rather their sense of smell was keenest, so their needs were more particular.

An uneasy titter came from one side of the room, where a wolf clansman slowly wove between tables. He nodded politely to a couple of girls before offering his hand to a wide-eyed boy.

Ms. Reeves kept right on talking, her voice a calm backdrop to these activities. “Reavers, let your potential partners know your designation. I see most of you are undecided. That’s fine. Your classmates may be the key to uncovering your unique aptitudes.”

A soft gasp came from a table near Kimiko’s perch. A burly young male with a crest from one of the bear clans had cornered the smallest girl in the class. She seemed to be trembling, which surprised Kimiko. Hadn’t these people applied knowing they’d be in close contact with Amaranthine?

“My name is Brev.” He crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet, clawed hands hanging loosely across his knees. “Will you tell me your name?”

Kimiko couldn’t hear what the girl mumbled, but the bear with his shock of golden-brown hair smiled softly and joined her at the table.

If only finding suitable marriage applicants were half so simple.

 Kimiko glanced around to check on Ploom, but the short boy suddenly stepped up and thrust out his hand. “Are you the sort who likes to be picked instead of doing her own picking? Because if you wait much longer, you won’t have a choice.”

Sliding from the sill, she realized he was right. Only two or three other reavers had yet to join a pair. “I suppose I do tend to wait and see.”

“Akira Hajime,” he reminded.

And when she accepted his handclasp, he held on.