Chapter 1: Intrigue at First Sight

St. Valerian's Preparatory Academy.

An elite private school tucked away in the hills just outside the city that provided elementary, middle, and high school education.

Nine-year-old Akane Mochizuki stood outside the massive wrought iron gates, awestruck at the sight of the academy. The structure stretched as far as the eye could see and looked tall enough to touch the sky. The buildings themselves were a blend between a traditional boarding school and a sleek, modern institute.

Akane strolled down the path to the elementary school building. It was lined with Columnar trees, and on either side of the path were vast, vibrant green fields of neatly trimmed grass. Once she'd entered the building proper, she was met with red brick cloisters, spacious courtyards, and marble floors. To her, it looked like a palace out of a princess fairytale.

Her footsteps echoed through empty corridors. There wasn't a single soul in sight, for homeroom had already begun. The scent of lavender floor polish and old books hung in the air no matter how far she walked. Colourful light filtered through stained-glass windows, depicting illustrations of saints and mythical beasts.

The admission officers had told her and her parents a lot about the school when they all had visited a few weeks ago. But there was much and more they were not told, which Akane would soon be learning through experience.

For instance, the school was ruled by unspoken hierarchies. Children from old money families sat in front rows, hosted school events, and set trends. New money, no matter how rich, hovered at the sidelines. Scholarship students, or 'charity cases' as some liked to nickname them, were almost invisible. They were promoted as a display of the school's 'commitment to excellence' in brochures, but they were ignored in the hallways as though they were invisible.

Teachers were elite scholars with PhDs from Ivy League universities, and they graded students based on promise rather than performance. The principal was a man with a perpetual smile, rumoured to have once advised royalty. He never raised his voice; he didn't need to. Authority was silent but ever-present and all-seeing.

Detention was a foreign concept. Discipline was maintained by invitations revoked, grades quietly adjusted, and reputations silently tarnished. Punishment was meted silently behind closed doors with administrators who cared more about image than justice.

It was a place where the children of CEOs, dignitaries, old-money dynasties, and VIPs were groomed. Gentility was currency, legacy was law, and excellence was assumed. Students wore tailored uniforms embroidered with crests and were chauffeured in luxury cars. Family names carried as much weight as grades, if not more.

But for young Akane, it was a school where she didn't belong. That much was obvious from the moment she arrived halfway through the school year and first set foot in her class.

She was just an unplanned child born to an impoverished couple. Her mother was American; a high school dropout disowned by her parents, lacking the skills and qualification to earn a decent living. Her father was a Japanese man who was always hopping jobs, and currently worked as a facilities manager recently hired by a prestigious luxury hotel.

It wasn't a high-ranking occupation, even if it sounded like one. It was a job with long hours, low pay, and no stability. Her father was responsible for the physical upkeep of the hotel - things like HVAC, janitorial coordination, safety inspections, and vendor management. It was gruelling, underappreciated work.

Before he got that job, the family was already living hand to mouth. After he got it, nothing really changed. He blew what little they had on drinking and gambling, always spewing lies that he'd win big one day and fix everything. As a result, Akane wore hand-me-downs, skipped meals when the money ran out, and got used to walking on eggshells around a man who was more of a hot-tempered ghost than a father. She'd learned not to expect kindness - not at home, and certainly not at school.

So how did Akane end up in such a prestigious academy?

The hotel her father worked for offered a rare scholarship program that granted children of employee's admission to the academy. It was marketed as a generous gesture, but in practice, only a handful of seats were given, and those students were treated like charity cases by their affluent peers.

Akane had leverage over the other candidates. Her test scores were high, and her academic performance was strong - when she actually bothered to show up to class. Furthermore, a behavioural assessment noted her potential to thrive in a structured, high-performing environment. So, she'd been admitted to the academy against her will. What others called a privilege, she saw as a cage.

And in a place where everything gleamed, Akane stood out immediately.

She arrived silently, without fanfare or a welcome. Her posture was poor and her expression was sullen. Her family name didn't carry weight. Her uniform wasn't tailored and her shoes were scuffed. She didn't have a monogrammed satchel or private piano tutor. She came from a public school where survival and strength mattered more than etiquette or hierarchy. She didn't speak unless spoken to, and when she did, her tone was blunt and brazen. She ate lunch alone, and if she wasn't being whispered about, she was being taunted outright.

Not just for her background, but for her looks, too.

Akane had long, silvery-white hair like a wolf's pelt - wild, unkempt, and impossible to tame. Her eyes were a deep, unnatural red, strange enough to draw stares and sharp enough to unsettle. Children whispered that she looked cursed. Teachers avoided her gaze.

Even her own parents were disturbed by it. Her mother had turned it into a superstition, that Akane had cursed the family, because things got worse after she was born. In her old school, they called her names behind her back and sometimes to her face: devil's spawn, cursed child, monster.

The names followed her here, too.

All on her first day.

But Akane didn't flinch or try to fit in. In fact, she rejected any and all interactions from students and teachers alike. She seemed feral, wary, volatile, and difficult to domesticate.

And by the third day, the reason behind her strange mid-year arrival was already circulating.

Word had spread through the school's grapevine, where nothing stayed buried for long, not even about a nobody. Whether it came from a parent, a teacher, or a well-connected student, the story moved fast.

Akane had been expelled after an infamous incident in her previous school. A girl who had been afraid of making an enemy out of her decided to pretend to be her friend instead. But Akane had found out, and bit her arm in a fit of rage.

The bite left a scar. Akane left with one, too.

If she had seemed feral on the first day, by the third she proved it. She scowled at anyone who stared too long, growled warnings at anyone who dared whisper in her direction. When students taunted her, she snapped at them. Her words were sharp, venom-laced, and unafraid to cut deep. Even teachers weren't spared her bite when they tried to soothe or scold her. She moved through the school like a cornered animal - wounded, wild-eyed, and ready to strike.

She was so consumed in fending off the taunts and the whispers that Akane was oblivious to the pair of sapphire blue eyes observing her.

—

Corvina Umbrae had noticed Akane from the moment she walked into their classroom - alone, ill-fitting in both uniform and posture, shoulders drawn tight. She hadn't approached her then, simply watching for the first two days.

But on the third day, as the whispers increased and the students turned against Akane, Corvina crossed the classroom and quietly sat beside her during lunch.

She wasn't seeking attention, but there was an audience. The din of chatter died like a dial being turned down. Only a few hushed whispers could be heard, too inaudible to be deciphered.

Corvina felt the weight of a dozen gazes behind her. She knew what this would look like to them: the class representative - the young Umbrae heiress - approaching an outcast.

It was both unusual and unacceptable, but she ignored the stares and kept her attention on the girl in front of her.

Akane noticed the sudden silence, too. She felt the presence of another, and a pair of eyes on her. Looking up from her paltry lunch, her gaze landed on the prettiest girl she'd ever seen.

Her skin was pale and smooth like porcelain, a sharp contrast to her long, wavy black hair. Under the lights, it shimmered faintly, like the iridescent plumage of a raven. Her eyes were the deep blue of the ocean and glimmered like sapphires. Her lips were as rosy as her cheeks and as soft looking as rose petals.

She looked vaguely familiar. Akane felt as though she'd seen this girl before yesterday and the day before, somewhere in her peripheral vision. She wasn't entirely sure; she hadn't bothered memorizing her classmates' faces. They weren't people she cared about, or ever would.

Corvina observed for a beat or two longer, noticing the way Akane's shoulders were just a little too stiff, how her fingers clenched her sandwich just a little too forcefully. Then, she spoke.

"Hi," she said gently, smiling. It looked picture perfect, like something you'd see on a magazine cover. "My name is Corvina. Would you like to sit with me? Maybe we could talk a little?"

Corvina wasn't sure if it was curiosity, pity, or some other emotion she didn't yet have a name for that moved her. But there was something about this grumpy young girl that had the demeanor of a lashing, wounded wolf pup that pulled at her. Not sympathy, and not necessarily fascination.

There was just this certain tension to Akane, like a string wound too tightly. Like she might snap or unravel if touched the wrong way.

Somehow, it felt a little… familiar.

Akane, in the meantime, narrowed her eyes. What was this? No sneer or smug curiosity. No venom thinly veiled as politeness.

Just… an offer. A soft voice with an equally gentle face.

That made it worse.

People didn't approach her to be kind. They approached to provoke, to humiliate, to entertain themselves. She didn't know what to make of this girl - this perfect girl with smooth hair, elegant posture, and eyes too steady for comfort.

Akane didn't trust it. She didn't trust her.

So, she shoved her half-eaten sandwich back into its lunch box and stood up abruptly.

"Don't waste your time," she growled as she stalked off, boots scuffing the polished floor.

Hardly a moment later, the whispering resumed louder than before, like a wave crashing back into itself.

Corvina didn't follow her. She just stayed where she was, surrounded by noise that suddenly felt far away, staring at the space Akane had vacated.

She wasn't angry, not really. If anything, there was a flicker of curiosity and something else - something like admiration. Most people acted soft and sweet around her, fixed their posture, spoke in a pleasant tone, and tried to impress her. They buttered her up with kind words and lies.

But Akane?

She didn't flinch, or ask who Corvina was. She didn't care. Didn't lie.

That was new.

It stung a little, honestly. Not because Corvina expected reverence and flattery - though she usually got it - but because for a moment, she'd extended something she never did before. Something real.

But it had been refused without hesitation.

There was something about that refusal that was unvarnished and pure. Not cruel, not even defensive, just… brutally honest.

It made Corvina fold her hands in her lap and ponder. What kind of girl turned her back on kindness like that?

And more importantly, why did it make her want to try again?