It had been 10 years since she had that dream she was 8. Life for Puella hasn't gone well for her as of late. She's halfway through her senior year of high school, but her past mistakes seemed to have already caught up with her. She was never really great with people. Never has been. But it was only after the incident with her and her mother when things became even worse for her. So, she had pretty much nothing. Accept for her part-time job and teaching kids at her high school archery for extra credits so she could pass that year.

Puella set up the school's gym targets when she heard an echoed slam from the double doors.

She shot up from the target she just put down to see a girl in her class she's seen on a few occasions.

To Puella, she seemed to me of Mexican American. She had a chubby face, but her overall body weight was average if Puella was honest. Which is often. Her nose was small. She was certainly taller than her, a lot of people were. But she was exactly 5'7. Her hair was dark brown and straight. But it seemed like streaks of bleached blonde crept from the tips like a pesky frost. Puella remembers her eyes were kind. Puella hasn't seen kind eyes associated with her in particular in a long time. Mostly, her eyes have been associated with pity, and as if in a reaction to a funny joke. So this girl's gray eyes caught her attention. She wore a 60s style floral print skirt with pastel flowers in pink, yellow, and blue. That suited her quite well with a loose white blouse with saggy sleeves at tight cuffs and a simple blue necklace.

"Is this where I'm supposed to volunteer for detention," her questioning tone echoed through the gym to Puella's ears.

Puella found herself puzzled by this. Mainly because she exclusively teaches elementary and middle school children archery for a week-long period. Then if anyone was interested in joining the archery team, she'd act as a part-time coach. But she has never really hosted detentions.

Puella dropped the target with a confused expression and trotted over to the girl before her.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I've been informed of this. Do you have a letter or a text from the front desk," Puella asked, scratching the back of her head with her left hand as if trying to access a lost part of her memory.

The girl jumped in realization.

"O-oh, yeah! The dean did say I had to give you this letter," the girl said while reaching behind her, and tucked in her waistband was an envelope.

The girl held out the envelope. The envelope had blue handwriting on it saying, 'Puella Chase' in cursive.

Puella grabbed it and slipped one of her small fingers in the scheme to tear it open. Then took out and unfolded the letter carefully.

It read as follows.

"Dear Puella Chase,

Due to the recent 107 Study Room incident being vandalized. And renovations to fix parts of the room. It will be closed for disciplinary purposes. And will be closed off until future use.

In discussion with the school board and your father. Silas Chase. Have both decided to have you host the disciplinary sessions. You may see fit what they do for you in the assigned time they are given.

From,

Dean Abramczyk."

Puella's hands were attempting to crush and tear the paper in a silent rage. But she mentally caught herself and carefully used her left thumb and index finger to flatten out the wrinkles and creases in the paper. Folding it back up and slipping it back into the opened envelope.

"Okay, I'll talk to him about this. But for now, I don't think I will have much of a choice," Puella said with a sigh as she slipped the envelope into her back pocket and walked back towards the targets leisurely. The girl followed her close behind.

"For today, you'll just help me set up and watch the team practice today. Miss...," Puella silently announced to the girl, but then turned to her slightly in hopes this girl will answer her question.

"Jovina, I apologize for not properly introducing myself, I-," Jovina said apologetically, bending her knees, so she was somewhat level with Puella's height.

"Don't mention it, your perfectly alright," Puella dismissed Jovina, cutting off her apology.

Puella found herself saying that phrase a lot.

Mainly because of Puella, in her eyes. Puella was always incorrect, always wrong about something. And something is always her fault. So it's always, 'sorry.' And, 'your perfectly fine.' Puella just felt all wrong.

It was only after the targets were being carried out, and the brightly colored compound bow and arrows were set up about a yard away from the targets and a few feet away from the bleachers. When Puella decided to try to ask Jovina something.

"So, ah...Why'd you get sent down here, if you don't mind me asking," Puella asked, carrying a small barrel of game arrows and target arrows.

Jovina stopped for a few moments but then went back to carrying smaller compound bows for the smaller people that would be joining them that day.

"I was just called in, and I was accused of throwing a party in the windmill I'm staying in. Even though that night I was enjoying a quiet night of reading and a cup of warm tea," Jovina replied with a frown and narrowed eyes that made her eyes look black.

Jovina set the bows next to the others on a black foldable picnic table with other varied sizes of bows. Puella set the barrel next to the table, and she sat down on the bleachers for a few moments to savor the silence.

"What about you," Jovina asked. "Why is a senior taking their precious time out of their day to teach kids a skill they might inevitably forget?"

Puella found her tone harsh. Puella wasn't making eye contact with her. But she could tell the question she asked Jovina upset her.

"Mostly for the school credits. But mostly to keep me from home at the moment," Puella replied honestly. Looking up to Jovina, who had stopped her task and was just standing at the foldable table.

Jovina looked confused, and her arms were crossed.

"Why don't you want to go home?"

Puella had asked herself that question plenty of times over the last few years. But she never wished to answer it. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to be reminded of what exactly happened those two years ago.

Puella attempted to answer the question, but the only audible thing was the sounds of her groaning throat stopping her.

"Ahhh- I'm sorry, I don't think I'm comfortable sharing that," Puella said quickly.

Jovina just looked even more confused about the way Puella answered the question.

Which is when children started flooding into the gym.

It was only when Puella started to give a small lecture to the archery team. That Puella realized how strange it was that she answer the question in such a peculiar way. She already knew it'd eat her up later.

Puella had started teaching the team precision shooting.

For this, she covered the targets with a black tarp and only left the center circle exposed.

A boy with a buzzed head and missing teeth popped up and raised his left, non-dominant hand.

"Ey, uhh... Puella? What makes 'ye think I can hit such a small target," he said with a surprisingly southern draw compared to upstate New York.

Puella went down the line and kneeled, so she was at eye level with the boy.

"I don't expect you to. All that matters in this session is to see if you were listening to my lectures. And that's pretty much it," Puella said, trying to seem as friendly as possible.

The other kids there looked at each other and nodded. Murmuring with an agreement.

Puella heaved herself to her feet and stood before them again. Clapping her hands together, that echoed through the nearly empty gym.

The line of kids fell silent and shot their attention to Puella. They weren't quite as rowdy as the week before.

Puella shot a glance at Jovina.

She looked like she was close to dosing off. Puella didn't blame her. Teaching kids, in general, was boring.

The children started scurrying towards the table for their bows and one arrow.

Then they lined up to their respective targets and got ready to draw their bows back, arrows knocked in.

Puella leisurely walked to the lowest step on the bleachers two steps below Jovina and got out her cracked phone. Puella pulled up Spotify and started looking for a decent kid-friendly playlist. Though, just looking at the ones available, from 'Charlie's Clown toons' to 'Curse-word free pop music.' Puella promptly decided to put on a classical music playlist instead.

The playlist started with a 3-minute long song. Puella didn't recognize the work, but she did recognize they were singing in Latin. Strangely enough.

With that, Puella set her phone down and scanned the room to see how the students were doing. With each satisfying 'thunk,' Puella saw that almost every kid was doing well. Piercing each central circle like it was second nature.

But with every clear 'thunk' came a 'whap.'

Puella started blowing it off in her mind, but yet the 'whap' became ever so persistent.

Soon, the 'thunks' became drowned out by the 'whaps.' Soon, even the music filling the gym was being drowned out by these 'whaps' as well. Puella grew a sense of irritation and looked to where the source of the 'whaps' were coming from.

She gazed down the line where most of the kids that were previously shooting arrows had stopped to look down the line. And at the end was that boy with the southern draw, aggressively plucking arrows from a small barrel he seemingly dragged to where he was. And taking them for himself. But no matter how many arrows he drew. He never seemed to hit center circle like he wanted to.

His angry grunts and 'whaps' became so loud that even Jovina watched this kid with a shocked expression. Almost impressed about the number of misses he's taken.

With that in Puella's mind, she heaved herself up and calmly walked up behind him.

Puella noticed his back was crooked and not really looking before shooting at the target. Puella gently put her right hand on his shoulder when there were only two arrows left in the barrel, and the remained were all scattered on the gym floor like some sort of battlefield.

"Step aside for a sec; I'm gonna show you how it's done," Puella says simply, holding her left hand out for the bow.

The angry little boy scowled and shoved the camo into Puella's arms. Then he stood next to the arrow barrel and crossed his arms out of spite.

Puella just shrugged and grabbed one of the two arrows out of the barrel. Puella knocked the arrow in before drawing, and Puella raised her arm and aimed. She raised her other hand to the knocked in arrow and sharing and drew back. As Puella's arm shook, she straightened her back with one deep breath.

When her arm just started to burn, she released, her breath escaping her as she did so.

Puella squinted at the target to see where the arrow had been guided to.

To Puella's surprise and luck, the arrow had placed itself in the center of the red circle.

To her relief.

The kids unexpectedly began to clap and howl in joy. While the kid that missed before lowered his head and tried to not make eye contact with anyone around him. Puella took a glance back to Jovina. She had a shocked expression on her face. Puella was almost convinced she'd also erupt into applause. Puella looked back to the gaggle of kids getting louder and louder with their praise.

"Alright, you kids settle. This isn't a pony show, just a demonstration," Puella barked with a frown.

Almost like well-trained dogs, they ceased their applause, clamping their lips together.

Puella kneeled before the embarrassed boy, now with his hands in his pockets. She held out the bow to the boy.

"Do you need guidance for your next shot?"

He huffed, suddenly snatching the bow from Puella's hands. He stomped up to the barrel with the last arrow, fisted it in his tiny fist.

In position, he knocked the arrow in. And drew it back. His noodly arms quivering from the limited strength a child could have. For a few quick moments, Puella did notice he was actually aiming.

But that was when the music suddenly changed...

A symphony that was familiar to her ears. But a harmony of tones that she never wished to remember.

In fact, she remembered playing parts of the toon in her younger days. She played the whimsy, the sorrow, and the power behind the notes of the violin.

But with what kind of past it had with her personally, she felt terrified.

Her eyes widened and shook as soon as the other instruments' notes erupted from the speaker in the gym that the Couch let her borrow.

Puella's eyes searched for the exit, the children being the last thing on her mind. The pure panic made her stomach begin to rise, her mouth salivating perversely. She covered her mouth with her hands, sprinting towards the double doors to escape the tones of music that threatened to hit her eardrums.

Through Puella's hands, she could hear the muffled call of Jovina. But Puella had already burst through the door, and Puella could still hear that damned violin.

Puella turned from the hallway in front of her to the hallway to the right.

There were another set of double doors, where the light shined down the hall, filling Puella's eyes with a beautiful blinding inferno of yellow of the setting sun.

Puella raised one hand in front of her eyes and stumbled instinctively as she pushed herself through the glass door.

As the cold, spring air hit her face. Puella's head began to spin.

Puella turned to the trash cans next to the double doors to the left.

It defiantly wasn't a tidy spot; bags of week-old trash piled up around the bins instead of inside of them... Go figure.

As Puella felt the contents of her stomach rise to her mouth, she threw herself to the pavement and warm liquid and chunks of...well. Half digested food. Spewed from her mouth and into the dry grass.

After it seemed like she was done, she took labored breaths, her breath skipping on the thought of that memory of THAT night.

Her belly turned, and she felt something rise again.

Puella vomited again on a half a breath.

Puella heard the sound of clacking heels on the bumpy pavement coming towards the door.

Puella got to her knees and stole a glance at who was coming towards the doors.

To Puella's worst of luck, it was the person that liked to bully her the most.

Kayle, and two of her friends. That kinda just follows her around to back her up for no particular reason.

Kayle was kind of the 'it' girl in this small town of Canaseraga.

Ever since she could say the words, 'You're kidding, right?' She's won beauty pageants with a big fake white smile while wearing a spray-on tan, with the big stiff hair to match.

If Puella could describe her, she'd say that her soulless black eyes could company anyone to do her bidding. With a crop top, jean shorts, and heels to crush a person's throat with ease. Made her irresistible to the men in town. Even though she wouldn't say it herself. She knew this for a fact.

Kayle's dark eyes locked on Puella, similar to how a predator would spot its prey. She softly blew air out of her nose.

Puella averted her gaze as soon as she spotted Kayle looking at her.

While she was breathing after practically pumping her gut. She thought she'd try to ease herself back to her feet.

Kayle and her little gang were coming closer, though, and at rapid speed. Even for heels. But I suppose it's natural for girls that have been raised to walk in them.

As Puella did get to her feet and one leg was bent, the terrible trio seemed to pass her. But suddenly, Puella felt something hook her foot. And she was suddenly, without any warning. Falling straight down towards the pile of vomit.

Puella grabbed to the brick wall to catch herself from falling face-first into the pile. She briefly thanked her reflexes.

Puella heard wicked snickers from behind her.

"Oh, I apologize! It seems Mia accidentally tripped on your leg! I hope you can understand how hard it is to walk in heels," Kayle said with the most utmost politeness that even from just hearing her voice, Puella could tell she was smirking.

Puella quivered on the brick wall, afraid her strength would give out, and she would fall into the disgusting pile of unmentionable horror.

"Y-y-your fine, have a good rest of your night, girls," Puella said, quivering on her words in fear.

The villainous trio went inside, where Puella could hear them cackling to themselves.

Puella let out a deep breath, and she pushed on the wall to bring herself to her feet again.

The torment was over, but she wondered what would happen now that the kids would have seen that. And probably tell their parents, and if they told their parents-

The double doors swung open.

"Hey, are you okay? I told the kids to clean up for me, then I sent them to the office so they can be picked up."

It was Jovina's voice. It hadn't even been an hour and a half, and Puella already ruined her chances of making a new friend. And at least have the excuse for staying out so late than just 'stargazing.'

"Ya, you can tell I don't like Vaughan Williams that much, huh," Puella chuckled jokingly with a chuckle, her back still facing Jovina.

Puella felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. Puella felt a flinch in her body as the hand made contact. Puella never loved being touched by most people; she wasn't sure why. But it felt like her body always thought being touched was something to be afraid of. Puella half-turned to look at Jovina.

"Are you sure your okay," Jovina asked. Jovina's eyes seemed different from before.

Like Jovina somehow knew what she was going through.

"D-don't worry about me, it's just that particular memory always brought something bad back whenever I remember it. I always had a weird thing with it ever since I was 12," Puella explained, bringing a finger up to a point at her head and spinning it around. Almost signaling what was going on in her mind.

Jovina's gaze remained, but she formed a small smile.

"Well... okay. If you need a cup of tea or just someone to talk to about anything. I'll be up at the windmill," Jovina said, starting to walk towards the parking lot and away from the school.

Jovina turned back suddenly.

"Oh! I'm dismissed from today's detention, right?"

Puella snorted.

"Yeah, just come by Monday for the same thing."