Chapter 2: The Princess and the Misfit

Two weeks had passed since Akane’s transfer. In that time, she’d learned more about Corvina Umbrae.

She was the youngest daughter of a legacy that traced back to Italian nobility, or at least, that’s what the other kids whispered in awe. Her name alone seemed to make people stand straighter. It made her seem like some kind of untouchable princess to Akane, the kind that lived in a tall tower and never got her shoes dirty.

“Umbrae Holdings” was mentioned a lot. It was some kind of “real estate company”, they said. Akane didn’t really get what that meant, but she figured it had to do with giant houses and rich people things. One older girl said they owned part of the school, but another said that wasn’t true and they just had “shares.” Akane didn’t know what the difference was, but she understood one thing: that Corvina’s family had power in the school. The kind to make rules disappear and teachers nervous. The kind that meant you didn’t mess with her.

Everyone seemed to admire her, or fear her, or both - teachers, classmates, even the older students. Whether she had earned that reputation or it was just handed to her on a silver platter didn’t matter; no one ever said no to Corvina. People hung around her like bugs around a streetlamp, always complimenting her shiny hair or offering to carry her books. Akane could tell which of them were just trying to get on her good side, probably because their parents told them to.

In short, Corvina was everything Akane wasn’t.

Polished. Precise. Pretty.

Perfect.

Akane watched Corvina from a distance. She was always graceful, composed, and observant. She smiled when spoken to, never raised her voice, never tripped over a single word, and even her posture seemed like she’d practiced it from birth. She was weirdly kind in a way that wasn’t exactly fake, but wasn’t genuine either. It was like she was taught how to control her politeness cleverly.

She noticed something else, too. Corvina always seemed to get to school before anyone else, and she was usually still there even after it ended - just like Akane was. Sometimes, they'd pass each other in the hallway when the building was almost empty. Akane never asked why Corvina stayed so late, but something about it felt familiar in a way that made her stomach twist.

Corvina was also very persistent. Almost annoyingly so.

She offered to share her textbook when Akane had forgotten hers, lent her pens without asking, and handed Akane a clean brush when hers was ruined during art class. She stood beside her in the lineup when no one else did in PE. Offered to share her lunch when Akane was without her own one day.

Little things. Irritating things. Things no one else had done.

She didn’t hover, or linger, or ask for anything in return. She just kept… showing up.

But Akane didn’t budge. She refused to budge.

She didn’t reciprocate or thank Corvina. She’d just grumble a rejection and walk away, or completely ignore her altogether.

It was all fake kindness. It had to be.

And yet, when Akane remembered that moment in the classroom - that quiet offer to sit together and talk - something about Corvina had felt… different. Less rehearsed and less distant. That smile seemed like it belonged to a real girl, not the porcelain doll version she showed everyone else.

Maybe she meant it. Maybe she really was different.

But Akane didn’t dwell on it. She couldn’t afford to.

To Akane, Corvina was just another person wearing a mask, like everyone else.

—

One day, Akane sat alone at the edge of the playground, arms crossed and scowling. She ignored all the group games and snacks being passed around. She didn’t look lonely; rather, she looked like she wanted to be left alone.

Corvina noticed her from across the courtyard. It looked like her attention was on a group of classmates chatting with her, but she threw glances at Akane whenever they weren't looking.

She was used to other kids trying to get her attention or be her friend because of who her family was, but Akane didn't even glance at her. It was a strange feeling that stung a little because she wasn't used to being ignored.

Later that day, during lunch, she quietly approached Akane. “You can sit with us, if you want,” she said, polite but hesitant.

Akane didn’t even look up. “I’m not a stray dog,” she muttered, “I don’t need your table.”

Her answer made Corvina flinch. No one talked to her like that.

But instead of walking away angry, she found herself watching Akane more closely after that, trying to figure her out. Eventually, she started to notice the patterns.

Akane never initiated conversation, but always listened sharply, as if waiting for the catch. She never raised her hand in class, but always knew the answer to the question anyway. Her shoulders were always tense, like she was constantly on guard. She never smiled, but her eyes flickered with suspicion, irritation, or sometimes something… sadder.

Their eyes met often, too.

She also started to notice their routines. Akane always arrived early and left late, just like her. Sometimes they passed each other in the halls before most students had even arrived, or long after they’d gone. Those were quiet moments, but they lingered in Corvina’s mind. It struck her as strange at first… then familiar - painfully so. And though she couldn’t explain it, it made her feel a sense of connection with Akane.

Akane didn’t act the way the other kids did. She didn’t try to please the teachers or look for attention. Most of them smiled when grown-ups or important people were around and acted differently when they weren’t, but Akane just stayed the same.

Corvina was used to people performing. Even she performed. She was taught how to be kind, how to say the right things, how to smile the right way. It was like handwriting that she had to practice over and over to get just right. Her voice, posture, and timing - everything was perfect. They had to be.

But with Akane, she felt unscripted.

There was something about her that made Corvina slip out of character. Something about that guarded demeanour and sharp tongue. That proud, angry look in her eyes that dared people to mess with her.

Something real.

Most people approached Corvina with too much praise, politeness, and flattery. Akane gave her nothing, not even the time of the day. And maybe that’s why Corvina couldn’t help but keep looking her way.

She didn’t know what she wanted from Akane. A thank you? A smile? Just… something. Anything to stop the weird feeling she got in her chest whenever she saw her eating alone.

She only knew one thing.

To Corvina, Akane was fascinating.

—

They were paired together for the first time, for a science project. Akane didn’t complain, but she didn’t look thrilled either. She just gave Corvina a short, unreadable glance before heading off to gather the supplies they needed.

Corvina watched her go, still trying to figure out that look Akane had given her. Sometimes she couldn’t help but think that Akane disliked her… but then she would remember another observation she made about Akane: she treated Corvina differently.

Not in a discriminatory sort of way, just… different.

Akane didn’t get along with anyone. She was prickly, sharp-tongued, had a fierce glare and an even fiercer temper. She lashed out at everyone, students and teachers alike; like a cornered wolf baring its teeth, she was brutal, unrepentant, unforgiving.

Everyone except Corvina. She didn’t understand why.

Not once had Akane raised her voice at her, or said anything truly mean-spirited. And she knew just how mean Akane could get. She heard the kind of insults she’d hurled at students that rubbed her the wrong way.

After Akane returned with their supplies, they sat side by side at a shared desk, working in silence. The classroom buzzed with chatter around them, but the silence between them felt louder than the noise.

Corvina was quieter than usual. She didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk or offer Akane another one of her overly considerate gestures. She just focused on her work, like she didn’t feel the need to impress. She wasn’t acting cold, but rather, less polished. Less perfect.

It struck Akane more than she was willing to admit. After two weeks of Corvina constantly saying and doing things, this version of her felt different.

It almost felt more honest.

Why?

Akane couldn’t help but frown. It was strange. She wasn’t used to people changing themselves when they were around her, unless it was to act mean or fake friendliness to use her. But Corvina wasn’t doing any of that. She wasn’t acting scared, sweet, or superior.

She was just… there. Present.

“You’re acting weird,” she muttered, not looking up.

Corvina paused. “How so?”

“You’re usually all nice and helpful and whatever.” Akane’s tone was neutral, but her scissors cut with more force than necessary. “Trying to be friends with everybody. Doing that... nice girl thing.”

Corvina looked at her - not offended, just curious. “Do you want me to?”

Akane blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“That version of me,” Corvina said quietly. “The nice girl thing. Do you want me to do that?”

Akane scowled. “No. Just wondering what happened to her.”

A brief silence stretched out between them. Akane’s question was something Corvina had already asked herself. Something she hadn’t quite figured out yet. Not really.

“She doesn’t show up around you.”

Akane raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Corvina said truthfully, eyes dropping back to the project they were working on. “Maybe because she doesn’t feel like she has to be, around someone who clearly doesn’t like her.”

Corvina immediately bit her lip. The words had slipped out unintentionally, prematurely, sounding like something they weren’t supposed to.

Akane frowned, defensive. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

“But… you act like it,” Corvina said simply, weakly. She wasn’t quite sure of it herself. Akane treated her differently, but did that translate into dislike? Or something else?

That irritated Akane more than she expected. She went back to cutting her paper again, a little too hard. “What, you think staring at people all the time means you’ve gotten to know ‘em?”

Corvina looked up from the poster. Her eyes met Akane’s, unblinking. “You stare at me too.”

Akane’s jaw tightened. “No, I don’t.”

“You do.” There was no edge or smugness in Corvina’s voice, just certainty. “I’ve seen you do it.”

The other girl stood abruptly, walking to the sink to wash her hands even though they weren’t messy. Corvina watched her go, confused as to why Akane got so defensive just now, but something in her chest twisted. It felt like that sinking feeling she got when she said the wrong thing and wasn't sure how to fix it.

Akane, in the meanwhile, scrubbed her hands furiously under the faucet, thinking back to something Corvina had said earlier.

“Maybe because she doesn’t feel like she has to be, around someone who clearly doesn’t like her.”

It was a weird answer that Akane was still trying to figure out. At first, it sounded like Corvina was saying she didn't have to do that nice girl thing around people that didn’t like her. Like they weren't worth it.

But… that didn’t make sense. Because when Corvina wasn’t doing that nice girl thing, she wasn’t being fake. She was just being herself. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

Akane returned to the desk, picked up her scissors, and sat back down without a word. Her usual scowl was back in place, but something about it felt less certain than before.

The rest of the period passed without the girls saying a single word to each other.