CHAPTER 10 – VICE PRESIDENT’S MORNINGS
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
On a bright and pleasant morning, the Tasty Town's Magic High School welcomed me as I strolled through the gates, clad in my high school uniform and clutching my handbag. Engrossed in my catch-up lessons notebook, I made my way inside.
"Good morning, Vice Prez!" greeted the school janitor as he waved in my direction. His weathered face bore a rugged charm, adorned with kind crimson eyes and a wide, welcoming smile. "Early as usual, aren't we?"
"Good morning, Mister Heero," I replied with a warm smile. "Yes, I'm here to assist in the library. Miss Rowena needed some help with organizing the new books."
Heero chuckled, concern in his gaze. "Don't overwork yourself, Vice Prez. You might just find yourself dozing off at one of the tables again."
I joined in his laughter, my cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Ahaha, that seems to be a recurring occurrence these days."
As our friendly janitor wisely remarked, I often find myself dozing off in various places, a consequence of my relentless dedication to my responsibilities. Curiously, stress rarely takes its toll on us, a trait we, elven magical beings, enjoy in contrast to our human counterparts. Nonetheless, I couldn't ignore the janitor's counsel, and perhaps it was time to heed his advice and catch up on some much-needed beauty sleep.
While I strolled through the campus grounds, my fellow students crossed my path, offering warm greetings.
"Good morning, Vice Prez!" chirped one of my underclassmen.
"Good morning, Lila," I replied with a friendly nod.
"You're positively radiant as always, Vice Prez!" another student exclaimed.
"Thank you, Alice!" I responded, returning the compliment with a smile.
"Vice President Hiraya! You're breathtaking!" cried out my devoted fanboys.
I shook my head playfully. "No, you're breathtaking. Every one of you is truly breathtaking."
“Kyaaa! The Vice President praised me!” Their lovestruck reactions were almost deafening as they cried out in delight.
These simple morning interactions were the moments I cherished daily. A simple greeting had the power to brighten one's day, and they provided me with a remarkable surge of energy to tackle my daily quest with renewed vigor.
I ascended to the highest floor of the campus's main building, where the library was housed. As I pushed open the door, I instantly spotted a familiar face at the far end of the library—a slender man with a pallid complexion, silver hair, and captivating azure eyes. Although we shared the same year level, his undeniable adorableness often made it easy to mistake him for a middle schooler.
Lysander Faradeiss. His classmates, in their rather unkind jests, affectionately referred to him as "The one who shat his pants."
He was engrossed in a hefty hardback book, the type that most high school students our age tended to steer clear of. There seems to be a lot of hard-covered books on his isolated table.
Our eyes met, and I greeted him with a warm "Hi," accompanied by a friendly smile. In response, he offered a silent smile and a casual wave.
"Oh, Miss Misteltein! Thank goodness you're here," called out the librarian, Miss Rowena, getting my attention. "I apologize for once again enlisting your help for this task."
I reassured her with a friendly grin. "No need to worry, Miss Rowena." Then, I turned my gaze to the cart brimming with books situated right next to the counter. "Are these the new additions? They appear brand new."
"These are actually old books being transferred from the Metropolis Library," the librarian explained. "I'll require your assistance in sorting them and returning them to their rightful places on the shelves."
I raised my fists in a show of readiness. "I'm on it."
As I carefully wheeled the cart towards the extensive rows of bookshelves, I found it increasingly challenging to divert my attention from Lysander. He remained utterly absorbed in his private world, his early morning commitment to reading books setting him apart from the typical high school student. His demeanor exuded a distinct bookwormish quality, one that was quite rare among our peers.
Around the midway point, I frequently stumbled against the bookshelf located just behind him. My curiosity got the better of me, prompting a discreet peek at the book he was engrossed in. It was a volume dedicated to the Dragon Knight Academy. On his right-hand side rested the memoir of Sir Amphere Harrison, a renowned dragon knight whose pivotal role in the Arcadian Rebellion was well-documented. On his left, an anecdote recounted the valor of Sir Xenon Wingate, another prominent figure during the War of the Four Empires.
"That's not it. That's not it!" Lysander muttered in distress, continuously flipping through the pages, his sense of urgency palpable. His evident panic spurred me to step in.
"Hmm? What are you looking for?" I inquired, curious about his quest.
"I'm searching for any information about the origin of the Dragon Lords," he replied, his focus still locked onto the pages.
I pondered for a moment, but the term was entirely unfamiliar to me. "Dragon Lords, you say? I can't say I've heard of them before."
"Perhaps this term is yet to be coined, maybe in the next five years, a-ah!" Lysander began to stammer but abruptly stopped when he finally looked up and met my gaze. His expression transformed into one of complete astonishment, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
"Hey there, Mister Poopy pants!" I playfully teased, unable to resist the urge.
"Stop calling me that!" Lysander protested, clearly annoyed.
"Hahaha! I'm sorry, Lysander. I just can't resist a little teasing," I chuckled, affectionately patting his silver hair that carried the scent of baby shampoo.
"Cut it out!" Lysander exclaimed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Why are you even minding my business? Go back to your job. Shoo. Shoo.”
“Sorting the books can wait.” I smiled at him and pressed my face forward. "You seemed like you needed some assistance. So, what's going on?"
"It's nothing," Lysander replied, forcefully closing the books he had been perusing earlier.
"Are you considering becoming a Dragon Knight?" I inquired, curious about his sudden fascination with dragon-related literature.
"No," Lysander responded with a bow. "I wouldn't even dream of becoming a Dragon Knight. To hell with them and their dragons."
I noticed Lysander gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, a clear sign of the deep-seated anger and resentment he held toward the Dragon Knights. There was also a subtle undercurrent of hostility that he seemed to direct toward me, evident in his lifeless azure blue eyes.
Lysander's reaction and the deep-seated emotions he displayed suggested that I might have touched on a sensitive topic or offended him inadvertently. It could indeed be a good idea to give him some space and avoid teasing him for the time being. Once the situation has settled, I can gauge his comfort level and perhaps have a conversation to better understand what might have triggered his strong reaction.
"I-I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy," I apologized, bowing in acknowledgment of my overstepping. "I'll leave you be now-"
Before I could make my exit, Lysander's voice stopped me. "Wait. Hiraya- I mean, Vice Prez. Wait."
His eyes held a vacant, eerie gaze I had never witnessed before, one that sent a shiver down my spine and made fear creep in. It mirrored the sensation I experienced when he'd questioned me about Neo Arcadia's ideologies.
"I've heard from some of the students on campus that a riot is scheduled to happen. It will be led by the terrorist sympathizers. You're the vice president, so I thought I should give you a heads-up."
"Terrorists?" I tilted my head, puzzled.
"Yes, Neo Arcadia is coming here in three days."
CHAPTER 10 – VICE PRESIDENT’S MORNINGS
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
On a bright and pleasant morning, the Tasty Town's Magic High School welcomed me as I strolled through the gates, clad in my high school uniform and clutching my handbag. Engrossed in my catch-up lessons notebook, I made my way inside.
"Good morning, Vice Prez!" greeted the school janitor as he waved in my direction. His weathered face bore a rugged charm, adorned with kind crimson eyes and a wide, welcoming smile. "Early as usual, aren't we?"
"Good morning, Mister Heero," I replied with a warm smile. "Yes, I'm here to assist in the library. Miss Rowena needed some help with organizing the new books."
Heero chuckled, concern in his gaze. "Don't overwork yourself, Vice Prez. You might just find yourself dozing off at one of the tables again."
I joined in his laughter, my cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Ahaha, that seems to be a recurring occurrence these days."
As our friendly janitor wisely remarked, I often find myself dozing off in various places, a consequence of my relentless dedication to my responsibilities. Curiously, stress rarely takes its toll on us, a trait we, elven magical beings, enjoy in contrast to our human counterparts. Nonetheless, I couldn't ignore the janitor's counsel, and perhaps it was time to heed his advice and catch up on some much-needed beauty sleep.
While I strolled through the campus grounds, my fellow students crossed my path, offering warm greetings.
"Good morning, Vice Prez!" chirped one of my underclassmen.
"Good morning, Lila," I replied with a friendly nod.
"You're positively radiant as always, Vice Prez!" another student exclaimed.
"Thank you, Alice!" I responded, returning the compliment with a smile.
"Vice President Hiraya! You're breathtaking!" cried out my devoted fanboys.
I shook my head playfully. "No, you're breathtaking. Every one of you is truly breathtaking."
“Kyaaa! The Vice President praised me!” Their lovestruck reactions were almost deafening as they cried out in delight.
These simple morning interactions were the moments I cherished daily. A simple greeting had the power to brighten one's day, and they provided me with a remarkable surge of energy to tackle my daily quest with renewed vigor.
I ascended to the highest floor of the campus's main building, where the library was housed. As I pushed open the door, I instantly spotted a familiar face at the far end of the library—a slender man with a pallid complexion, silver hair, and captivating azure eyes. Although we shared the same year level, his undeniable adorableness often made it easy to mistake him for a middle schooler.
Lysander Faradeiss. His classmates, in their rather unkind jests, affectionately referred to him as "The one who shat his pants."
He was engrossed in a hefty hardback book, the type that most high school students our age tended to steer clear of. There seems to be a lot of hard-covered books on his isolated table.
Our eyes met, and I greeted him with a warm "Hi," accompanied by a friendly smile. In response, he offered a silent smile and a casual wave.
"Oh, Miss Misteltein! Thank goodness you're here," called out the librarian, Miss Rowena, getting my attention. "I apologize for once again enlisting your help for this task."
I reassured her with a friendly grin. "No need to worry, Miss Rowena." Then, I turned my gaze to the cart brimming with books situated right next to the counter. "Are these the new additions? They appear brand new."
"These are actually old books being transferred from the Metropolis Library," the librarian explained. "I'll require your assistance in sorting them and returning them to their rightful places on the shelves."
I raised my fists in a show of readiness. "I'm on it."
As I carefully wheeled the cart towards the extensive rows of bookshelves, I found it increasingly challenging to divert my attention from Lysander. He remained utterly absorbed in his private world, his early morning commitment to reading books setting him apart from the typical high school student. His demeanor exuded a distinct bookwormish quality, one that was quite rare among our peers.
Around the midway point, I frequently stumbled against the bookshelf located just behind him. My curiosity got the better of me, prompting a discreet peek at the book he was engrossed in. It was a volume dedicated to the Dragon Knight Academy. On his right-hand side rested the memoir of Sir Amphere Harrison, a renowned dragon knight whose pivotal role in the Arcadian Rebellion was well-documented. On his left, an anecdote recounted the valor of Sir Xenon Wingate, another prominent figure during the War of the Four Empires.
"That's not it. That's not it!" Lysander muttered in distress, continuously flipping through the pages, his sense of urgency palpable. His evident panic spurred me to step in.
"Hmm? What are you looking for?" I inquired, curious about his quest.
"I'm searching for any information about the origin of the Dragon Lords," he replied, his focus still locked onto the pages.
I pondered for a moment, but the term was entirely unfamiliar to me. "Dragon Lords, you say? I can't say I've heard of them before."
"Perhaps this term is yet to be coined, maybe in the next five years, a-ah!" Lysander began to stammer but abruptly stopped when he finally looked up and met my gaze. His expression transformed into one of complete astonishment, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
"Hey there, Mister Poopy pants!" I playfully teased, unable to resist the urge.
"Stop calling me that!" Lysander protested, clearly annoyed.
"Hahaha! I'm sorry, Lysander. I just can't resist a little teasing," I chuckled, affectionately patting his silver hair that carried the scent of baby shampoo.
"Cut it out!" Lysander exclaimed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Why are you even minding my business? Go back to your job. Shoo. Shoo.”
“Sorting the books can wait.” I smiled at him and pressed my face forward. "You seemed like you needed some assistance. So, what's going on?"
"It's nothing," Lysander replied, forcefully closing the books he had been perusing earlier.
"Are you considering becoming a Dragon Knight?" I inquired, curious about his sudden fascination with dragon-related literature.
"No," Lysander responded with a bow. "I wouldn't even dream of becoming a Dragon Knight. To hell with them and their dragons."
I noticed Lysander gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, a clear sign of the deep-seated anger and resentment he held toward the Dragon Knights. There was also a subtle undercurrent of hostility that he seemed to direct toward me, evident in his lifeless azure blue eyes.
Lysander's reaction and the deep-seated emotions he displayed suggested that I might have touched on a sensitive topic or offended him inadvertently. It could indeed be a good idea to give him some space and avoid teasing him for the time being. Once the situation has settled, I can gauge his comfort level and perhaps have a conversation to better understand what might have triggered his strong reaction.
"I-I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy," I apologized, bowing in acknowledgment of my overstepping. "I'll leave you be now-"
Before I could make my exit, Lysander's voice stopped me. "Wait. Hiraya- I mean, Vice Prez. Wait."
His eyes held a vacant, eerie gaze I had never witnessed before, one that sent a shiver down my spine and made fear creep in. It mirrored the sensation I experienced when he'd questioned me about Neo Arcadia's ideologies.
"I've heard from some of the students on campus that a riot is scheduled to happen. It will be led by the terrorist sympathizers. You're the vice president, so I thought I should give you a heads-up."
"Terrorists?" I tilted my head, puzzled.
"Yes, Neo Arcadia is coming here in three days."
