~Valerie's POV~

A i d e n  D a l e.

"Are you all right, dear? You look as if someone has just pulled the rug out from under you."

Oh you have no idea. "I'm fine ma'am."

What

"Are you sure?"

Is

"Yes."

He

"Even so, won't you sit down?"

Doing

"Thank you."

Here?!

I think I'm having a panic attack right now. Breathe in, breath out. Don't hyperventilate...

"Hello?" The lady waved a hand in front of my face. 

I snapped back to reality. "Yes?"

"I was asking whether you would like a tour of the Academy."

Um... why would I want a tour? It's not as if I have any say in this matter - it's already been decided. "Maybe sometime later." And he actually issued a formal order for me to attend this school. The nerve.

Formal orders are commands that every  (W)ESS member must follow. It's not supposed to be used to make 15-year olds go to school! But well, our team leader has the worst ever sense of humor. 

What's (W)ESS? It's the name of our squad, frankly. It's pronounced like an S, with the w silent.

Well, if not for the formal order, I would be at least five miles away from where I was sitting right now - so here we are. I'm not exactly the definition of obedient, you see - quite the opposite, really.

The principal nodded, "Later it is, then." She leant back and studied me, "Do you have any questions?"

Yep, a lot. Get ready. I sat up too quickly and winced when the chair creaked in protest. Please don't break until I'm long gone... 

"Is this school really very old?"

"Oh, this school has a long and eventful past," She fondly remarked, "Want to hear about it?"

"Uh... no." I happen to be very fond of history as a subject, but history in small talk prolongs both, the duration and our misery. Why can't people just respond with yes or no to such questions? That is the wisest option.

But then, not everyone thinks like me. What a pity.

The principal, on the other hand, regarded me with curious eyes. "You're very blunt, aren't you?" She chuckled, "Try to be more polite with your teachers, okay?"

I scowled. That was me being polite. Anyway, I decided not to press the point. 

"Yes... ma'am." 

Since I was interested in keeping quiet and minding my own business, I guessed that the need of being polite with someone was uncalled for. I decided to change the topic.

"Mrs. Campbell- "

"Hush, dear. Don't go about making me feel old." She gave a hearty laugh, "You can call me Mrs. Agatha."

Not the kind of topic I was looking for.

"I'm afraid I must decline, ma'am." No way am I going to call a person I just met by their first name! I don't even use my team mates' first names in conversation - though that's more of a professional requirement, really.

 Anyway, I don't happen to know this person sitting before me. That is a good enough reason.

"That isn't entirely true, you know. When you were young, you used to call me Aunt Agatha." 

Hah?! Did she read my mind or something? Not that I mind. Saeki keeps doing that all the time for fun. I'm kind of used to it by now. Anyway, all they can read is my surface thoughts only. There is a barrier after them that is indestructible (so far) and which shields my deeper thoughts.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I don't believe you." 

Way to go Val! You're working seriously hard to get thrown out on the first day of your school! My inner voice taunted me.

Shut up. I gritted my teeth. Why does this conversation keep getting personal now and then?

The principal looked at me, "Why wouldn't you?" The sadness in her eyes threw me off.

"U-um...you don't... have any evidence." 

"Still being professional, eh?" She shook her head, "Gustave's influence. Yes, I truly do not have any evidence to prove that fact."

Thank Gods.

"But," She continued in a playful tone, "I can order you, as the principal of your new school, to address me as Aunt Agatha before the entire school."

Can she? I have no idea whatsoever. Better not to take chances though.

Is she for real? I shrugged, "I can pull off some stunt and get myself kicked out."

"You won't."

"Why won't I?" C'mon, everyone who knows me is painfully aware of the fact that I'm reckless.

"Because," She smiled, "a little birdie told me that your squad leader made you sign a formal order to attend this school and not pull any unwarranted tricks while you're at it."

Oh no. I groaned aloud. Someone, help me.

I hated this already.

"Okay... Mrs. Agatha."

"Good." She beamed at me, which made me start.

A fuzzy feeling erupted inside me, which I tried to ignore. Emotional attachments are a hindrance. To work as well as life in general. Emotions give way to expectations, which are too overrated anyways.

She continued, "If you are suddenly called to the Principal's office in between class, don't be daunted!" She laughed at my bewildered expression, "I might just want to chat, or your team might have a message for you - though I know that you have that," She tapped her own ear, "for group communication." 

My hand involuntarily went to the same spot. I was suddenly rather self-conscious. Exactly how much does she know? I squinted at her.

"... it going?"

"Eh?" I missed that. Yeah, I space out a lot. 

"You're really bad at paying attention, aren't you?" She shook her head before continuing, "I was asking about how is it going for the (W)ESS, nowadays?"

"Good. Nothing extraordinary." 

Except for the fact that supernatural odd crimes have suddenly increased exponentially in the last few months, which meant that now we had to work more shifts and train more hours. Talk about exhausting. The sudden jump in crime might mean that the Society is on the move again and something big is going to happen, which is why we needed to be in top shape at all times. 

Or so Mr. G says while working us to the bone.

The principal didn't look too convinced, but she thankfully let it slide. The you're-too-young-to-do-this pep talk was seriously getting on my nerves by then, especially since every other person who met me basically said the same thing. 

You're too young. I'm more able, both physically and mentally, than people twice my age. Honestly, I don't see how that's even a factor for eligibility.

You've got a full life ahead of you. It's not as if being a (W)ESS member has shortened my life or something. It literally prolonged it. 

Hybrids are not supposed to exist, after all.

You're not fit to do this. You have no evidence to prove that, just a wagging tongue and some stupid stereotypes.

"Well," She eyed my outfit skeptically, "Though your clothes are very aesthetically pleasing to the eye compared to what I've seen the other students wear since morning, you do know that Evan Academy has a uniform, right?"

WHAT?!

"Since this is your very first day here, we are allowing students to wear casual clothes today.  However, from tomorrow..."

What monstrosities do I have to wear from tomorrow? I visibly shuddered at the thoughts that popped up in my head. There's a reason why I don't like uniforms.

I hate skirts... they are a pain to get used to... they get in the way while fighting...

"Don't worry. It's not that bad." She chuckled again.

"Let us agree to disagree."

The principal's next words were abruptly cut off by the loud ringing of a bell. I shot up as my mind unhelpfully supplied the fact that I was going to be late on the first day only. I don't think that any teacher would believe me if I told them that the principal made me late to the class.

"Your class is 9-A, right round the corner. The fourth one on the left."

"Thank you ma'am. I'll be going now." I grabbed my bag, "It was nice talking to you. Have a good day."

"Wait." She called just as I was getting ready to sprint for my life.

"Yes?"

"Don't you want your locker key?"

Oh, that. I grabbed the key she held out towards me. 

"Also - the way you talk," She paused, then continued, "Did you happen to learn how to communicate with people from reading books?"

"Uh..." So. Busted. 

"Okay. You may go now." She was desperately trying not to laugh at my beet-red face.

"T-thank you." I turned and didn't even look back as I ran about, trying to find my class. Yeah, I know she gave me directions. But I mess up my left and right most of the time.

The principal is a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure.

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