Chapter 3

I woke up early. The first thing I did was start sorting through my things. What did we have here? A uniform, similar to a keikogi… a Japanese training suit, pajamas, and slippers. A small pouch with toiletries. And textbooks. Right...

I picked one up and turned it over in my hands. "Ryoku Management. Stream Technique." I flipped through it, came across some absolutely incomprehensible diagrams for an unprepared mind, and closed it. Okay, what else is here... Oh, "The History of Taiyoganori. The Gedo Era." I'll put this one aside; I can clearly handle this without the risk of dislocating my brain.

The girls had also brought a booklet on mentalism, but that was even worse than the ryoku book. So I took the history textbook. At least I would understand where I was.

...I only lifted my head from the yellowed pages for lunch. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers and closed my eyes, trying to organize the information on mental shelves.

The island empire of Taiyoganori, composed of eight hundred islands. Some were tiny, others were quite substantial in size. The Emperor was Shunsuke Ksa-Karan, The Winged One, Heir of Fiery Blood, Blessed by the Ancestors... and a host of other titles that meant nothing to me. Judging by his image, the man was not old, just barely over forty. His features were stern, and his gaze was unreadable.

Okay, what's next... The empire is divided into four regions: the Region of Light, the Region of Storms, the Region of Stars, and the Region of the Sky. Each region contains fifteen prefectures.

I frowned, trying to make out the worn-out map. The textbook had clearly seen better days, so in some places, it was simply impossible to decipher what was written in those stupid hieroglyphs.

The book fell from my hands.

Hieroglyphs.

I can read them without any problem. I know perfectly well that these linear symbols are syllables, these with the curls are syllables and individual letters. And these are the hieroglyphs—the words. And it doesn't bother me at all that both types are in the sentences, because everything is perfectly readable. It's as if... I've been doing this all the time.

My head was buzzing. My stomach hinted that it would be a good idea to eat. But for that, I had to wait for Izamu's assistant, who he had entrusted with bringing my medicine. Only after that could I go to the dining hall. It was located not far from the infirmary. All the students of the Gozen School ate there. And the teachers and staff, too, as I understood it.

The fragile healer's assistant appeared ten minutes later, as if she had sensed my thoughts about her.

I took the medicine, quickly changed into the purple keikogi, and tied my hair into a knot at the back of my head. My hair, by the way, was long. It felt strange. My fingers hovered over the disobedient strands that kept trying to fall over my face.

I used to have a haircut. That's right.

I had no idea what kind of haircut, but I knew it was a haircut.

But here, it seemed the custom was to have long hair: either a tradition or some other meaning.

I sighed and straightened my shoulders. Oh well, my appearance is a minor detail. The children aren't scared. And that's good. I just needed to figure out the rest.

I remembered little Miya again. I should visit her somehow. Maybe I should hint that she shouldn't talk about our adventure by the river anymore. She's a child, of course, but she didn't strike me as a fool.

I thoughtfully ran my fingers over my lips. The scar. I wonder where it came from?

As they had made me understand, the previous Aska was not particularly bright. She probably ran head-first into something and didn't think about the consequences.

I left the infirmary, telling the attendant at the exit that I was going to the dining hall. Patients recovering their ryoku were allowed to go there and to the courtyard by the infirmary.

The sun was high in the sky, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming trees. For a minute, I stopped and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, letting the sun's rays warm my face. It was so good... to be alive. Simply good.

A chasm seemed to open in my soul. Because deep down in that chasm, a centuries-old horror was coiled. The horror of dying and never seeing any of this again.

I frowned and shivered. What was that? Ghosts of the past?

I remembered the Weaver's words perfectly, but I had absolutely no desire to fall into the abyss of understanding that I had died somewhere.

What mattered was what was happening here and now.

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Walking along the neat path paved with colorful tiles, I arrived at the dining hall.

Girls in purple, black, blue, and green keikogi were heading toward the doors in small groups. Some glanced at me furtively, some ignored me, and some stared openly.

Haruka walked up to me and, grabbing my sleeve, pulled me along.

"Let's go, stop daydreaming. They'll take all the good stuff."

The dining hall was spacious and bright. There were wide tables with teapots and bowls already set out, and simple benches. Modest, but everything you needed was there. The students picked up trays and went to the food, taking rice, vegetables, and fish.

I craned my neck, looking at the selection. Nothing fancy, but you wouldn't go hungry. Oh, it looks like there are little pitchers with soy sauce, too. Life is getting better. Sauce makes any dish taste better.

I reached for a pitcher, and then someone laughed behind me. A mean, nasty laugh.

"Oh, look who crawled out! None other than the great heroine of the Gozen School herself! Aska, why are you showing us your backside?"

"She thinks we're unworthy to behold her radiant face!" someone giggled. "She talked to the Weaver herself! And then she collapsed by the river!"

I calmly poured sauce on my rice, put the pitcher back, and turned around.

There were four of them.

All of them were skinny, sinewy girls with far from peaceful intentions. One was tall, a second looked more like a restless flame, and another... without any specific distinguishing features. In front of them stood the leader, apparently. She was my height, dressed in a black keikogi. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, with red threads woven into it. The thin belt cinching her waist was also red. In her hands, she held a folded fan, which she was gently tapping against her palm. And there was a strange feeling that this fan was not as harmless as it appeared.

She was looking at me, her eyes slightly narrowed. As if she was calculating the fastest way to swat an annoying insect and move on. Although... no, wait. Not fast. She wouldn't mind tormenting me a little first.

I got angry. Aska, you idiot, did you manage to make enemies for yourself too?

"Well, why are you so quiet?" she asked sweetly. "Did you forget us? Didn't you come to tell us about your successes?"

I was thinking fast. Whatever the former owner of this body had blabbed about, I had to find a way out. Frankly, I was hungry. And I didn't want to get into a fight at all. But there were four of them. And they were watching my every move.

The students around us seemed to deliberately step back, creating space. Were they afraid of getting caught in the crossfire? Or did they want to watch me get beaten up?

There was no doubt that no one was betting on me.

"I've been sick," I replied calmly. "The whole school knows I've been in the infirmary. But visiting the sick isn't forbidden."

"Satu, she's mocking us," the tall one said. "It seems she really did lose all her brains when she hit her head on the floor in the temple."

"Did she even have any to begin with?" the one behind her cackled.

Satu narrowed her eyes, tapping her palm irritably with the fan.

She's annoyed. She's annoyed that I dared to talk back. Let me guess, the unspoken leader of the school? One of those who thinks she's above everyone else?

"Aska, I'll visit you only if you defeat me in a fight. And only if I'm bored. You have to answer for your words."

And without warning, she struck my tray, so the food flew all over my keikogi. The next moment, a fist flew toward my jaw. I ducked, thrust my leg forward, and hit Satu's kneecap. The girl howled and stumbled back, and the others rushed me at once. Someone got hit on the head with a tray, another got an elbow to the solar plexus.

The people gathered around began to murmur, and a commotion arose. Something had gone wrong.

A red fan suddenly snapped open in front of my face. Its sharpened metal ribs, to which the paper was attached, flashed. If I hadn't moved back in time, I would have lost half my face.

"I'll kill you!" Satu growled.

I hit her wrist, twisted her arm, and the fan dropped. I punched her in the face.

Someone grabbed my hair and pulled painfully. I hissed, and tears welled up in my eyes. The tall girl's fist slammed into my cheekbone. A ringing sound echoed in my head.

"Hey! Are you crazy?" Haruka's shout came to me.

She literally crashed into the fight, pushing Satu's entourage away.

"Stop!" the icy voice of Teacher Koji rang out.

A second later, my hair was released. Everything in front of my eyes was a little blurry. That lanky girl's punch was no joke.

Koji's face was unreadable, but his gaze made it clear—the teacher was furious. I could understand him, though. Instead of eating peacefully, the students had started a brawl. I wouldn't have approved of it myself. The only question was that I hadn't started it. The Weaver and all the others who perform the duties of gods here are my witnesses: I came here just to have lunch. The fish, by the way, was a shame to waste.

"Satu, Aska, go to my office. Immediately!" he snapped, turned around, and walked out of the dining hall.

Hmm, so he didn't call her lackeys. Was that deliberate, or would he talk to them later?

To her credit, Satu said nothing. She only shot me a glare, pulled up her belt, wiped the blood from her broken nose, and proudly followed the teacher.

I sadly looked at my stained keikogi, at the ruined lunch, and, with a sigh, followed her. But I managed to glance at Haruka. She was clenching her fists and was clearly not opposed to knocking some sense into Satu's friends, but she understood that it wasn't the time. Where had she been, anyway? Or had she just hesitated while I was examining the food?

Satu's entourage was frowning and checking their bruises. The nimble girl was wincing painfully and rubbing her head. Ah, so that's who my tray landed on.

Oh well, we'll survive.

We walked down the corridor in silence. Koji didn't turn around. It was as if he knew perfectly well that we weren't going anywhere.

Satu didn't look at me. While I didn't miss the opportunity to study my enemy. Where could Aska have crossed her? Or was everything much simpler, and my predecessor was just a punching bag? That happens often in schools when they find a scapegoat.

A slow anger rose within me.

Now, they would have problems with their scapegoat. I wasn't going to be silent or bow down.

This new confidence was a little puzzling, so I almost missed Koji entering an office on the left.

The setting was more than modest: shelves with scrolls, books, papers, a tortoise shell inkwell, a few black crystals on the table. On the wall hung a map and some diagrams and charts. I would have liked to go and look, but there was a risk of getting hit on the head now, this time from the teacher.

Koji walked to the table, leaving us by the door.

"Well?" he asked, without turning around. "What happened?"