Part 1

Back pain was a terrible way to start the day. I'm guessing that a school that treats its students like dirt isn't interested on purchasing new mattresses. ‘They are handed down and are as ancient as the College itself’. If someone told me that, I would believe them. On the bright side, waking up early was a breeze. I practically jumped out of the bedding. Following that, the morning routine which I drilled daily got to resurface. Despite my best efforts to bleach my memory of my previous schooldays, the algorithm was kept intact. It had survived the time when I could get out of bed whenever I got bored of sleeping. Now that I'm back at studying, it's a damned alarm clock. Not to mention the thing can't be reprogrammed. So, each morning, at 7 AM, an alarm rang.

I washed my face. And at the mirror, there was the face of someone whose body was fed up with the bare minimum diet. Over by the kitchen, ‘fresh produce’ waited for my hands to prepare breakfast with it. One by one, foodstuffs were taken out of the box. A huge roadblock existed between them and me. My skill at cooking was practically non existing. Heck, my home economy skills were almost zero. I imagined how the apartment was going to look in a few months. An absolute disaster of disrepair and filth.

To prevent that, something must be done. Even I, had limits. Very relaxed limits. So, I was going to get the bare minimum standards for the minimum amount of effort. Which I call being efficient.

Frankly, this is a problem other people are faulty for. Back at home domestic employees kept everything in top shape. And I could have three meals per day. Looking at the week’s pantry, I doubted I could prepare an excess of two daily meals. Diversity wasn’t there. I scrambled the cans, jars and bags to notice which breakfast options were available.

A can would be easiest, right? I picked up a can of sardines. Just eating them would disgrace my family’s arrogance. I did enjoy such a prospect. Yet, I didn’t savor the unfiltered smell of the fishy fillets. I stashed opened can inside the miniature fridge. Though it was too late for the room’s ambient odor. Not this. Not alone. So…rice? Rice is a staple food of many cultures. People even ate it for breakfast.

After trying to read the packet’s instructions, I felt an urge to rip it apart and scatter the grains on the floor. The lovely people working food delivery had gone out of their way to procure imports. With their instructions and nutrition data written in foreign language. Judging by the strangely shaped characters, the bag came from the other side of the ocean. Are they doing it to save money or just to spite students? My stomach rumbled, ordering its master to stop the complaints.

The answer to my food trouble came in the form of a ringing doorbell. She was dressed in a frilly maid outfit. Sewn by hand, probably by its owner. The black fabric had a sleek contrast with the pearly whites. All I could compliment. Everything else reeked of do-it-yourself. It was more of a costume than a functioning uniform. I have to admit, her maid act gave me specks of self-guilt.

"Hello Neighbor! It smells funky in there. Are you in need of a maid?" She referred to the lingering scent of sardines.

"How do I cook rice? My only interest lies in cooking rice."

"Uh? Water level over the grains, cover with a lid and cook it with gentle heat. Are you in need of a maid?"

“Big thanks, you are a life saver.”

Goodbye. I almost shut the door on her, almost. She had acted on a whim and tried to peek inside my residence. Which resulted on her head being squashed by the closing door.

Thank you. I took a few steps backwards and almost shut the door on her. On a whim, she tried to stop me. But her head, got squished on the way, blocking me from closing. So irresponsible.

“Good thing I didn’t slam it. You would have died from a concussion.”

The maid imitator had a lost, confused expression. Did she suffer actual head trauma? The nurse here seems to be pretty skilled…

"Didn’t your parents teach you not to enter strangers’ homes” If she even has parents. These days orphans are like…in vogue.

"I'm h-here to prom-mote my s-services." She wasn't able to speak properly.

When I freed her, she gasped to the max of her lung capacity. It took a while to recover her breath. In the end she seemed fine. I decided not to worry about her health.

"I clean the homes around here. I'm the only one who does it, but I don't charge that much. Just a little."

"Academic Credit?"

"Yep."

She had confessed she was cheap despite having a monopoly on cleaning services. With monopoly involved one assumed that her fees would be quite high. Unfortunately, adolescents with really bad grades didn't care for tidiness. Lump me in with them.

"I don't get you. Browse your surroundings. Who would give the slightest turd about such a derelict environment?"

"You do have a point. Once upon time, this maid asked faculty if we students could cooperate to paint our residences. But they wanted to sell us the paint at ludicrous price. A whole pile of credits."

How…depressing. Meeting her had changed my perception on Class F's student body. They weren't a crowd of delinquents. They were poor, we were poor.

"I'm short on credit. But I'll keep you in mind."

I was as useless in cleaning as I was cooking. My motel life did include a maid service. It may be useful, at a later date.

"It's normal for new arrivals. It will get better! By the by…You already took the test, right?"

"Don't remind me…"

And I had to explain the whole story. About my activation conditions, that teacher Alan had assigned me to find my esper ability. Actual homework would be less intellectually demanding. If one could get homework while in a boarding school.

"I won't be of use to you. I'm also a support." That you are support type is pretty obvious. "Tough break, to join a triad with those activation conditions of yours. But hold on, despite all hardships."

"Ah…Thanks for supporting me."

The maid’s recipe turned spot on. So foolproof, that even after messing the water ratio, breakfast was very edible.

It took me quite a while to finish preparations for class. I had to rush to the classroom. After going up the flights of stairs, my energy exhausted. But when I expected a forgettable entrance, I happened to be the center of attention. My classmates were entirely focused on me. They demanded me to share my diagnostic results. I didn’t want to confess something as laughable as ‘ESP coming soon.’. However, peer pressure won the day and I told them what happened. All the hype quietly died. For being honest, they rewarded me with rejection.

Citing my teacher, my role is to provide support for other espers. For homework, I was obliged to find a willing test subject. Someone unhampered by the activation requirements.

'You don't seem useful.', 'Sorry, team's full.', 'Support? We need a buff guy fighting on the frontlines.' I had my doubts anyone would have wanted to help me. But it was colder than I imagined. Was it right to judge them negatively at the time? If anything, well put together team compositions fascinated me, since success depended on team balance. My skills were still incognita. So, taking me on was a leap of faith. I wouldn’t have taken me in either.

Defeated, I paraded towards the back of the classroom. Where I slumped into my desk just to use the surface as a pillow. I pondered on my bleak state, on this school prison. Why did my life had to get shredded like this? Can I return everything back to how it was? This ESP isn't doing anything for me. I knew all that self-pity was unhealthy, but I kept going, hooked in the opioid of victimization.

It took an embarrassingly long time for me to notice her. She had to knock on my head, to pull me out of my ranting.

"You sleepy?"

"Depressed." That's how I compacted my feelings. Packed into a single word.

Part 2

It is true that her sudden appearance drew my curiosity. My slouched body rose away from the desk’s surface. All the emoting I performed had blurred my eyesight with viscous tears. It forced me to blink repeatedly, flushing out the stickiness. The sharpened senses identified a uniform. The person stood like a tower. A modest number of inches taller than me.

When our eyes met, I resented my display of behavior. I had just attempted to communicate with my peers. Failing that, had brought out habits corresponding of a loner. My experience with friendship was sparse, in real life. Online was slightly better. First impressions did matter, I understood. A classmate had spared me some goodwill, but I responded like a true pessimist. That impression required fixing. At the depths of my psyche, there existed an emergency supply of friendliness.

“G-Good morning. You are?”

“Filiel. Sorry for barging at an inconvenient time. I’ll return.”

“…I regret that.” Then, I introduced myself.

“I came looking for a brief meeting. Will you?”

I nodded and she motioned me to follow. Class was about to start. She drew out a chair for me. Placed next to the window, one large enough for me to jump out of. May’s morning sun made its way through the steel bars and reflected on the floor tiles. She preferred this spot the most. And accommodated herself on the next seat. She was leaning over the backrest, but it seemed our teacher did not mind a pupil showing her backside towards him. Whether he was cool with it or just negligent.

 

“When I transferred over to Class F, I had a tough time as well. If you ever need a hand, say the word. I cover almost everyone with their homework.”

Another advertiser…

“So, do you deal in homework cheats?”

Her hand went over her lips. “Cough. Coursework Merchant.”

A sound of creaking wood startled me. It bore the weight of a fat, muscular arm pushing down it. I had entered the crosshair of an F-Class tough guy. His threatening gaze made it certain. “I enjoy the outdoor view…” He said.

“I’m performing a cold prospect over here.”

“And?”

“My policy. Everyone knows it. Or did you forget that I don’t help out brutes?”

He looked displeased, but ultimately accepted it. “Traded, the back row isn’t bad either.”

Traded? But I liked the back row. Far away from the teacher’s attention.

“Sorry for that.”

This person had impressed me, but it’s not like I could copy and paste her homework and claim it as mine. Since my assignment was bringing out my ESP. "I would like to hire you. But you wouldn't be able to help with my current task."

“Are you sure of that.” She smirked. “I was a top of the line Class A student. Honor Roll. If you have anything over that level, I’d pay credits to test myself with it.”

“N-Nothing as exciting.” I went over the story so far.

“From that, I only see that you need a test subject. I'll make you an offer. We'll team up and you'll split your earnings fifty-fifty. Do you accept it?"

Half of my credits earned. The day before, the teacher had handed a sparse amount of them to the few student who participated. The system was some sort of reward for good behavior. With ‘good behavior’ defined as in the College’s best interests. If we could split those earnings, it meant trading was allowed. Yet her offer, seemed to be against me. Those credits are supposed to pay for my food.

But thinking it through. Everyone else had already rejected me. I was unexperienced and for the moment, unpowered. Without an ability to distinguish myself. My family lineage meant teaching me entrepreneurial skills was at least attempted. So, I understood the poor position where I stood. Negotiating a better deal was a pipe dream. But I still tried. My weak points were abundant. And she was a fierce negotiator, better deserving of the Friedd name than I did. I lost in the end. My counteroffers were rejected with logical statements. She knew what she wanted and kept stiff.

How is she so good at it? I was just about to cave in, when my will to fight re-ignited. Who’s this girl? What’s her motive?

‘Her objective is clear. You are an easy cash grab. Probably no one else would accept those terms.’

Does she intend to turn me into her cash cow? With her motive in the back of my head, I felt an awkward feeling of belonging. Before me was absolute greed. Something I despised in my relatives. Despite that, I started trusting. Only if I were the one to take the leap of faith, would I survive the College.

"Your offer will do. On your terms."

“Deal.”

‘That one’s greed has established a Sinful Contract.’

An outsider had intruded our conversation. The Advisor had manifested.

Part 3

I had just accepted a deal to give away half of my academic rewards. The justification for it being that I had no useful powers. Immediately after, a voice belonging inside my head started talking.

Coming to this school had made accept almost everything was possible. Can you present yourself, mysterious voice? I inquired my psyche. However, it was awkward to ignore the person in front of me. She was celebrating the fact she got what she wanted out of me.

‘You accepted her terms.’

If you had appeared earlier, I’d had more leverage.

‘A contract was required first. This product of your mind may be called Advisor. The girl and you have bounded. Thus, unlocking use of Party Influence.’

Overly specific requirements…I laughed at what life had thrown at my face. But even if she had ripped me off, my ESP did surface. So, I must uphold my part. “You actually did it. I can use ESP.” I told her.

Her head tilted to the side. Maybe she couldn’t believe it had been that easy. “Good for you. But what does it do?”

“Aside from flowery speech. I do not know. Yet.”

‘Ask yourself not what Advisor can do for you. But what you can do for yourself.’

Is it possible your speech is based on whatever I deem fancy?

‘Indeed…Regarding your abilities, a demonstration works better than a speech about it. Someone with your personality doesn’t exactly listen to their mentor’s guidance.’

Whatever. I had competed my current mission. Teacher Alan would assign me actual coursework. Seated at his desk, he looked bored and unmotivated. His display of lethargy damaged the impression he made at the Infirmary. But complaining about it…would be hypocritical of me.

“Teacher. My job is done. I’ve completed your assignment.”

“Right, right. Good job. I guess I can start the class now.” Alan scribbled the day’s agenda on a dusty chalkboard. But after writing it, he looked at the chalkstone and back at the board. “What did you do exactly Friedd. Can’t remember all my interactions with all of you.”

My jaw dropped. It was only a day ago. He had hyped me to discover my psychic powers. Then he forgets it? In Class F, even the teachers are third rate. “Ahem. Professor Alan, you instructed me to uncover my ESP. Thanks to her help, I did so. Can we start progressing on the syllabus? ASAP. I will count the days until my graduation from this disastrous school.”

“How much did you pay Filiel?” An unrelated student asked. Others were interested in knowing it too.

Confessing it, was a little embarrassing. Fifty was an outrageous cut. “Half of every Academic Credit I ever earn. And working as her teammate.”

My classmates had a look of wonder, as if they had discovered a precious stone. “Filiel doing teamwork!” It didn’t take long for them to rush us. They all polluted the classroom with noise. I distanced myself from them. However, she gladly received their attention.

By then I had noticed our personalities were far apart. Friendly, good-looking and industrious. Those were traits I lacked. It must have been the reason why my Middle School experience was such a disaster. And my freshman year at High School…It bombed hard. Not that I liked education anyway. Maybe things would have gone differently if my parents hadn’t enrolled me on an elite school. I couldn’t meet their expectations.

On the flipside, everyone here covets working with Filiel. But I’m not exactly proud of what I had to pay.

“I said! The class was starting.”

“But-t Teacher…Teams. We all want to team up with her. Can you blame us?”

“To start…Filiel is a Vanguard role. And Christian a Support. That rules out two thirds of you. So, only Specialists have an excuse to bother me.”

He was talking nonsense to me. I lifted my hand, but I didn’t wait for approval. “Teacher, you didn’t explain that in yesterday’s class. To give honest feedback, it consisted of pure filler.”

Offended, Alan scrambled his desk’s drawer for a ball pen. To my surprise, he bit down on it. My molars felt it. On more careful inspection, the pen had many bite marks. Teaching this class must be kind of stressful.

“Filler? Every now and then, I have to show off how much of an awesome teacher I am. You guys can’t go around blaming me for your bad performance. Especially on my professor evaluation!” He threw the punished ball pen back into its drawer. Alan drew a triangle on the chalkboard. “This goes for you Friedd. The triangle represents the triad. Going by statistical data, espers fit on three roles. Vanguard, Specialist and Support…”

His explaining driveled for a while. Around a quarter hour of technicalities.

“So, to summarize all of that. A third of all espers has psychic powers that can play the Vanguard role. The same with the rest. Which is why we split ourselves in triads.”

When Alan finished, the students turned up the volume. They had been discreetly chatting. But the one everyone fought over was silent. She got up, trying to appease the audience. “Not today friends. I never said that I was building a triad.” Her message was received with disappointment. “You set yourselves up. Next time, allow me to speak first.”

I stomped the floor in excitement. This is how it feels! Did you like it? Filiel had delivered poetic justice.

“All my talk about teamwork was useless then…” Alan said.

How bad of him to have wasted his time. Didn’t matter to me. My thoughts went to the girl seated in front. “My appreciation.”

“Respect is important. Bringing one of them in is a disservice to you. Like I said. I had a hard time adapting to Class F.”

“Don’t tell me…”

“At first, I was desperate to return. But I found Class F to work better for my goals. I’m not going anywhere else.”

“So, you have a Life Plan. Mine was run over by a truck. And this school’s Council President sat behind the wheel.”

If I stay here, I’ll miss valuable years of grinding. As much as it weighted on me, I considered going back to the family. I could fail this school year, or the next one. At best case, my psychic education would take a year and a half. But much worse was that I had no idea of what Reyna did with my stuff. I suspect she disposed of everything.

“What are you going to do after graduation?” I asked what I was uncertain of.

“Get back to business. I always knew I would end up here. So, back home, everything’s ready for my arrival.”

Unlike me. As I was kidnapped. I remembered when Reyna or Otto mentioned something about esper bloodlines. Meaning not all students here are abductees. I mean…That Student Council could have been nicer.

It was also nice that Filiel hadn’t gotten the short end of the stick. Like I did. It was best to tell her what happened. I tried to be hush about it, so Alan wouldn’t notice me talking in class.

She stayed silent for a while. “…You don’t seem the Old Money type.”

“I didn’t talk to them much. But you…would have fitted like a glove. Don’t you think we should have gotten each other’s place?”

“Can’t do anything about it.”

“Right. Now that you heard me out…What if we forget the credits business and I get you half of my inheritance? It’s much, much better than the fake currency of this school.”

She shook in negation. “There’s no evidence to corroborate your story. I’ll take the credits.”

A completely logical answer. She was in the right once more. But that won’t go on forever. I didn’t plan to stay at the losing side of arguments. Somehow, I was going to improve my lot.

And if it’s possible to escape. I’ll be first student to do so.

Seven Star College had every card against me. Secured facilities. Enclosed by a flesh burning fog. Guarded by its own private army. And an overpowered, overzealous Student Council. The security was impeccable. Yet, one of these days…

But for now, I have coursework to complete. I may have lost track of the time, but the class went on.

“Is everyone warmed up? I had this class planned for yesterday. But as we all know it, a new student joined us. I know you guys prefer practice over theory. So…” He wrote and underlined ‘PE Class.’ “To change things up. And our new arrival can break the ice with his ESP. Aren’t I great? Be sure to write that in your teacher’s eval.”

‘Do not worry. Possessing an Advisor comes with a usability advantage. You will catch up to your peers without complications.’

I hope so…

“And I’m not doing this because the Faculty ordered me. Off the record…I’m covering for you. Since Filiel does most of you guys’ schoolwork, the report sheets have become a little suspicious.”

“Thanks Teacher! I’ll give you a thumbs up on the evaluation.” Said someone at the back.

“That’s the spirit!” Alan responded. “Now go get your stuff. See you outside the schoolhouse.”

This class was something else. My classmates flurried downstairs. Descending the staircase was like traveling down clogged piping. I lost sight of Filiel, when the girls and boys separated into different rooms.

I had entered the men’s locker room. A place where talk happened, that no female should ever hear. The grid of lockers was immense. Mostly because it must hold the belongings of the other classes apart from mine. Remarkably, every door had a name tag and an electronic lock like the residence doors. Campus F’s designer mixed high-end technology with ultra-low budget everything else. It was kind of cyberpunk.

When I swiped my student ID, the door let out a cheerful beep. Not fitting for my opinion of the College. Anyways, my locker was stocked with PE Uniforms. I took one change and tried to mind my own business.

But some others wouldn’t let me. I wish I could tell that they had come to greet me. However, they had come to haze the rookie. Getting along with Filiel didn’t help me fit in their pecking order. I guess some of them even had a crush on her. Thus, making me the victim of their pent-up frustrations.

In such cases, it’s best to ignore them. Well, regardless if ignoring them was really the best course of action, I would have done so anyways. It’s my nature.

“Hold up.” The guy Filiel had shut down intruded the group. The one that wanted to recover his seat but ended up in mine. "Leave him be. If you go hard on him, he'll blow the whistle." Whether he wanted to genuinely help me, or just mock me the others left me be.

This event had helped me differentiate which guys I should actually talk to.

I got the other uniform on. To be fair, it made self-conscious of my physique. The navy shorts were true to their name. My untanned legs were exposed for everyone to see. But I didn’t have any complaints on the wine athleisure top. Top grade. In the end, these uniforms had the same color scheme as the other.

After exiting, I hooked up with Filiel. Apart from wearing the same clothes, she had tied her long hair. As promised, the teacher waited for us outside the building. And he announced where we were going. The far edge of the campus, where the forest began.