"Hmm," Vincent swallowed, trying to buy time.

  He felt like all eyes in the room were fixed on him. Well, they had been from the start, but now they seemed to judge him differently. Waiting for him to fall. He didn't think it was all in his head. Not entirely. No, stop, no one could know the truth. No one could even suspect it. It was too soon.

  He knew sooner or later he'd be found out.

  It was too much to ask to get through three years at the Academy without being discovered, without his family managing to track him down, revealing his secret and trying to bring him back home, or a thousand other things that could go wrong.

  Just because no one could see his stats and his Class didn't mean he could stay hidden for years.

  Still, it was too soon.

  Maybe after a year, he'd be allowed to stay here, despite everything, but now was too soon.

  So he had to calm down. And behave properly.

  He cleared his throat.

  "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. It's just [Fire Ward]. It gives fire immunity for five seconds, nothing special."

  "I see," Jonathan replied simply. "A very unique Skill. You were lucky. Otherwise, you both would be dead."

  Not all Skills were known, cataloged.

  There were certain Skills that most people of a Class obtained sooner or later, but each person was unique, so they could develop differently by doing different things.

  Or simply by the luck of being born with them, with something different.

  And that was good, because otherwise, he'd already be on his way out; he would have been revealed as soon as he decided to commit that foolish act.

  "Sounds basic," Jonathan continued, patting Vincent on the back. He was acting a bit strange. Did he suspect him, or was Vincent just being paranoid? Maybe both. "Nothing more than fire immunity for five seconds. But how many of you would have risked it? It's only five seconds, after all. Think of it as a choice. Regardless of your Level, your Skills, the most important thing is your decisions. The most powerful Skill in the world is worthless without determination. And the same applies in reverse. Even if you have weaker... Skills, that doesn't mean you can't find great use for them. It's not all about levels and stats. Otherwise, why would we have Academies?"

  Some people laughed. Jonathan's expression didn't change one bit. Vincent wasn't sure if it had been a joke, but he smiled uncomfortably, just in case.

  "Well, I think I've wasted enough of your time for today. We're finished."

  People applauded, and then they left, some doing both at the same time. None hesitated. Well, Vincent had been unconscious for a few hours. The staff had had plenty of time to show them their dormitories.

  Soon they were alone.

  "Did they give you the tour of the place too?" Vincent asked.

  "What?"

  "I mean, did they show you where to go, our dorms, all that."

  "Ah. Yes. Come on."

  He followed her closely. He felt so stupid, so small and out of place, despite everything. Vincent took a deep breath. That feeling would pass sooner or later, probably. He had as much right as any of the students accepted this year. More, even.

  Because he hadn't been born for this, and yet he had achieved it.

  He wasn't patting himself on the back; he had more merit, objectively. He did.

  "This is it," Ayame said, leaning a hand on the door. She took a key from her pocket with the other hand and opened it.

  Vincent entered, looking around. This small room might seem like nothing to the vampire girl (or quite the opposite, perhaps she was used to spending the night in a coffin in an old castle), but his family was quite humble. Country folk.

  To him, the entire Academy seemed like a palace. And not an old, decrepit one, precisely. He couldn't believe this would be his new home for three years for many reasons. That was the main one, not his skills, not his chances of maintaining his... secret identity. So to speak.

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  "This is nice," he finally said, not wanting to show too much enthusiasm and look like a country bumpkin. Especially in front of her. "Where do you sleep?"

  Ayame sat on the bed. No, a bed. There were two. A rather large detail, but he hadn't noticed until now.

  The vampire girl crossed her legs, which drew his gaze. What could he say? He had a pulse.

  "Here, of course."

  "And you don't mind? Sharing a room with a man you've known for less than a day?"

  "Of course not. For starters, I suggested it."

  "Oh, really?"

  "I think you're a bit lost."

  How could he answer that without sounding like an idiot? He supposed it was 'information' he should know, if he were who he claimed to be. Or if he'd had a normal life for a Knight, at least.

  Vincent sat on the other bed, right across from her. He sighed, tried to get comfortable. It didn't feel like his, but that would change over time. Maybe. Or maybe he'd always feel like an impostor.

  "Enlighten me."

  "There's no gender segregation. Students usually team up for the initiation test to pass. They aren't required to keep them after entering, but few people go it alone until at least the second year."

  "Why?"

  He could have answered, he supposed, 'oh right, of course, that's what you meant.' Or something like that. But it wouldn't have sounded very convincing.

  "Because you have to earn your keep, Vincent."

  "So... are you saying the dorm isn't free?"

  The vampire girl shook her head.

  "For the first month or so, there's like a grace period. But then you have to afford it with rewards from Quests, exams, and other tests."

  "Oh. Great."

  He had been too optimistic, assuming he had essentially gotten past the hard part already. The most dangerous, at least. But of course, it had only been an initiation, a beginning. He would be truly tested in a month. He clenched his jaw.

  But he would exceed his own expectations... and everyone else's, again.

  He was capable of that.

  "Didn't you know anything about that?" Ayame asked.

  "I live... I lived, in a remote village, and I was the only one with a Combat Class."

  "Ah. I see."

  Ayame accepted his explanation with surprising ease. Most people, he thought, would have been more curious, or tried to poke holes in his excuse, demanding more details. But she just shrugged and considered the conversation over.

  Good. A calm person who went with the flow suited him as a partner.

  Much better than someone who looked too closely.

  "Well, I'm glad you wanted to team up with me. You could have found someone better."

  What are you doing? he thought. Trying to convince her she made a mistake? You idiot.

  "I already found you."

  She said it as if it were that simple. Maybe it was. Maybe he complicated things too much. He leaned back until his head touched the pillow. He closed his eyes.

  So dark.

  A moonless night, only the clear, pure light of the moon.

  So dark.

  Like a gigantic white eye, blind.

  So dark.

  But that didn't mean there was nothing to see. He saw a woman in the darkness and mist. Mist? Yes, mist. It had been there from the beginning. Strange he hadn't noticed. His mind was elsewhere. His mind was elsewhere

  (sodarksodarksodark)

  and his heart was...

  "Vincent!"

  His heart stopped dead.

  He hadn't recognized the woman's silhouette, but the voice, the voice was undoubtedly his mother's.

  "Mom! I'm here."

  So close, very close, but she didn't hear him. His words didn't reach her. The mist must be interfering. He could hear something vibrating, something alive in the darkness. He didn't like it. He didn't want to be here. But first, he had to get his mother out, take her far away, but how could he do that if she couldn't even hear his voice?

  Vincent opened his eyes slowly.

  "Fuck." He ran a hand over his face. Judging by the light coming through the window, he had slept through the night, but he still felt very, very tired. Down to the bone.

  He sat up in bed, took a deep breath.

  He had dreamed about Mom. How could he not? He had left one day, without looking back, leaving a letter without details. He couldn't have done it any other way. She wouldn't have allowed it, and if he had given her the details, she would have come looking for him, ruining everything before he could even start.

  But he felt guilty anyway. He was guilty. For all he knew, the poor woman didn't even know if he was dead or alive.

  She had taken care of him his whole life, and this was how he repaid her.

  Vincent shook his head.

  He felt sorry for his mother, but...

  He wanted to live. He had made a series of decisions, the best he could make, even if he had hurt people he loved along the way. He wished he could have handled things better, but clearly his hands were tied. That didn't stop him from feeling bad, feeling guilty, obviously. But he shouldn't forget that.

  "Did you have a bad night?" Ayame asked, startling him.

  He turned, taking a few seconds to realize who had spoken. After all, it would take some getting used to. It had taken him seconds to remember where he was, in the first place.

  A nightmare. Nothing more than a nightmare.

  "What's it about? Do you miss home? Is that it?"

  "Yes. What about it?"

  Ayame shrugged. She had slept in a nightgown. Neither lewd nor conservative, just normal. Still, seeing her like that, freshly woken up first thing in the morning… Maybe because he was an idiot, but it felt like a strangely intimate situation. And that, well, she probably didn't see him as a man.

  "Nothing. Me too."

  "Really?"

  "Of course. Everything is very... different here, and you're the only person I know."

  It had never crossed his mind. She seemed so self-assured and, unlike him, going to an Academy must have been normal, expected by her family. But what did that have to do with anything? Why wouldn't she miss home? He felt like an idiot.

  "Well, hmm." Vincent got out of bed, eyes fixed on her. "At least we can be there for each other."

  "Yes. That's what teams are for."

  "I know. What I meant was... Never mind."

  Ayame watched him thoughtfully as he went to the bathroom to change into the Runehaven uniform. It was white, except for the gold trim on the wrists and collar, and too tight. He didn't like it. But rules were rules.

  They would have to get used to changing in the bathroom, like now, like last night. They weren't going to strip in front of each other, no matter how much they had formed a team.

  As soon as he came out, she looked at him again. He couldn't help wondering what on earth she was thinking.

  "Thanks," Ayame said.

  "For what?"

  "For before. Thanks. I… I'll do my best to be there for you too. Don't think I won't."

  Vincent swallowed, nodded slowly.

  "Huh, thanks. We're in this together… Yeah."