To get to the bottom of who The Deer is, one has to start by piecing together the fragments of rumors whispered around the campus.

For Ranran, a peculiar lead kept resurfacing—a story that had recently gained popularity on campus: The Tale of the Fox and the Deer. Rumor had it that this story held veiled references to Edgewood's history, a metaphorical retelling that only a handful of students could fully understand.

The tale revolved around two characters: a cunning fox who is the outcast of society, and a mysterious deer who is also the Prince of the Forest. 

Unlike most fairy tales she had read, this was no ordinary fable. 

The tale painted a haunting picture of the forest society, where all creatures revered the deer, the Prince of the Forest, and shunned the cunning fox, whose brutal honesty and ruthless nature unsettled them. While the fox lived in isolation on the outskirts, always challenging the forest's unwritten rules, the deer ruled with a serene yet disquieting authority.

Unlike the real world where the carnivorous thrives in the animal kingdom, the herbivores are the ones who thrived.

Yet, despite being the outcast, The Fox in the story grew up in a loving family away from the forest city. Raised beyond its shadowy borders, nurtured by a family who valued honesty over decorum, the Fox had learned to see the world unfiltered and unafraid. The forest, ruled by the mysterious Deer however, was a place where those who followed the silent, unspoken rules thrived, even if it meant sacrificing personal truth.

The Fox crossed paths with The Deer one day due to the one cruel rule of the kingdom: Intelligence.

In Forest city, intelligence was seen as a trait to be harnessed—and controlled. Any creature with an IQ beyond a certain threshold was brought before the Prince of the Forest, the Deer, to ensure they would be force to end up in the prestigious school where their intelligence could be harnessed, those who are born with extreme intelligence however, would end up eventually being put in class to groom and serve the royal deer family and its elite followers.

To those who aren't smart, one would simply assume that this would be a great opportunity to become a powerful influential animal within their kingdom, but the Fox being the unusually smart one knew better that it was merely painted in 'good words' to glorify the Deer's enigmatic rule. 

So being the smart one, it intentionally failed their exam.

But the Deer was cunning in his own right. Despite the Fox's efforts to escape, he had sensed something unique in the Fox and arranged for its forced return to the forest city under another guise. "A worthy mind," he declared, "cannot be ignored, only guided."

At the end of this particular chapter, she was taken despite the protests.

Ranran shut the book, her mind racing as she felt a chill. It was a little too familiar—her own repeated attempts to not end up in Edgewood, let alone, attempts to get, only to be pulled back in each time. Just like the Fox, she had tried to sabotage herself, to fail, hoping that the system would release her. Yet the more she resisted, the tighter its grip seemed to become.

Was she the fox in Edgewood's tale?

Had she, like the Fox, unwittingly attracted the attention of some unseen Deer at Edgewood?

"Who in the hell is this Deer!?" she muttered.

Was it the teachers, the headmaster, or some idiotic rich kid who got so bored in life since they have everything, that they decided to drag her into here as a plaything for fun?

And second of all, why her? She is born from the slums, with no proper noble education, let alone, barely insulted or come across any child her age who may be born a noble. Plus, there are plenty more idiots who lived at the countryside and slums that are slightly better than her, so what gives!?

Was she simply another clever "Fox" they had singled out, a piece in a game she'd never agreed to play?

The pieces were starting to fall into place, but one thing was clear: whoever or whatever "The Deer" was, they had no intention of letting her go.

................................................................................

Only four weeks in since she started Edgewood, she was already at a point of frustration over other idiotic matters in the classroom.

"Why did Mr Chewy had to die.....why.......!?"

As her classmates sobbed around her, Ranran folded her arms, staring at the tiny flower-strewn casket at the front of the classroom. Mr. Chewy had been the vice-principal's ancient, beloved rabbit, a creature that had lived well beyond the typical rabbit lifespan, though she suspected its pampered life at Edgewood had played a part. But she couldn't bring herself to join in the theatrics; the whole scene felt absurd, a room full of elite students lamenting a rabbit's death as if it were the end of the world.

"Is this really necessary?" she muttered under her breath, watching as her classmates dabbed their eyes with silk handkerchiefs.

"You just don't understand, Ranran," sniffed one of the girls next to her, her eyes red and puffy. "Mr. Chewy was everything to us!"

Ranran suppressed an eye roll. That rabbit was bound to die one after another of old age anyway, like the stray animals she grew accustomed to witness dying one after another back at the slums. Of course, unlike the stray cats and dogs, Mr Chewy was more of a 'excuse' for those who decided classes was so boring, that they decided to milk Mr. Chewy's existence as an excuse to skip listening to lessons that will bore them to death when it was still alive.

Then one of the kids who happen to be crying asked why isn't feeling upset.

The first thing that came out of her mouth was, "It constantly poos itself, even up to the day of its death. I mean the staff kept complaining having to clean it up when it was still alive."

That made the kids freeze in response.

A collective gasp filled the room, the sound thick with shock. Ranran glanced around, unimpressed by the stunned faces. To her, she was just stating the obvious. Mr. Chewy had, in all honesty, been more of a nuisance than anything else. But to her classmates, her words were nothing short of sacrilege.

One boy, his cheeks red and blotchy from crying, managed to stammer, "How... how can you say that? Mr. Chewy was loved by everyone!"

Ranran shrugged. "Loved for what, exactly? As an excuse to avoid listening to the boring lessons we have to deal with everyday in class?" She knew she sounded harsh, but everything in this school, let alone, the circumstances that landed her here all was getting to her. "Besides, a rabbit probably won't remember any of your faces."

The girl next to her gaped. "You really don't have a heart, do you?"

Ranran sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I mean....I don't even know why I do need one for a rabbit that caused problems," she said quietly. She glanced back at the flower-strewn casket, then out the window to the courtyard below, feeling a familiar pang of longing for the life she'd left behind. At least back there, things made sense; there was no need for all this pretense.

But as she looked back at her classmates, she realized her honesty only further alienated her. She could feel the weight of their judgment, see their resentment simmering beneath the surface. She was the Fox once again, standing apart from the herd, seeing through the rituals and illusions they so willingly embraced.

And though it set her apart, she found she didn't mind.

................................................................................

Even so, she still can't let go over the possibility that someone could've manipulated their way that eventually lead her to end up in Edgewood.

But it would be plain stupid to tell any of that to her classmates, because 'The Deer' is a mere legend stuff that couldn't be proven. Thinking back of her parents' conversation as to how her maternal great-grandmother was able to locate them despite her parents being tight lipped, the 3-year-old can only conclude one thing: Either her great-grandmother paid people to dig around which is very likely plausible, since she is super rich.

Or in the most sinister approach is....that plausibility is someone tipped her.

Given that she had failed attempts of escaping this school, Ranran decided the latter sounds more plausible

There was a troubling thought gnawing at her now, and it was far more unsettling than the ridiculous pageantry over Mr. Chewy's demise. Whoever had made sure she ended up at Edgewood knew exactly what they were doing. 

She then thought of the plausible motives that why this person might have done so, was it money? It had to be money, she reasoned. Perhaps The Deer is none other than her great grandmother, the one who started it all, so that she could inherit more money. Like those dramas her mother watches, the evil young wife of some elderly soon-to-be dying old man decides to search for his secret illegitimate family to score brownie points from him, then finish them off once their purposes is serve, and snatch all of the property they would've inherited through the dead old man.

Yet, she can't help but feel that sounds off.

For starters, her husband was already deceased decades ago. Second, her great-grandmother isn't someone who looks as if she was riddled with debt. The reason she knew this was because when her family was introduced to that woman for the first time, she had seen the unmistakable marks of wealth: the glimmering jewelry, the perfectly tailored clothing, and the quiet but assertive way the woman carried herself. No, it wasn't desperation that had driven her great-grandmother's search; this was someone who had all the power and resources she needed, someone who was used to getting her way. If she was desperate for money, even if there is some random will that says something like look after Ranran's family, and in return, the great grandmother will inherit tons of money, it would still be a perplexing gamble onto a family that works in the line of authority. 

Also, Ranran's family wasn't exactly a hidden treasure trove waiting to be unearthed.

Plus, reason why she knew that last part, was because her great-grandmother was the one who threw her other remaining successor, which would be none other than Ranran's biological maternal grandfather, in prison.

For what crime, she has no idea, but the bottom line is this: if money is the motive, the last thing that woman would do is to trace them down and bring them here, rather, killing all of them would do her more favours than sending Ranran to Edgewood.

Could it be about power? Control? Perhaps her great-grandmother saw Ranran as a tool to strengthen her own position in the social hierarchy—a pawn to be used in a game she had yet to fully understand.

Yet again, her great grandmother never struck her as the type who is into titles. Ranran remembered one incident that when her mother brought over those teachers to the residence, when she threw tantrum about it, her great-grandmother much to their shock had dismissed the accolades they had showered upon her as if they were mere trifles. 

"Titles don't define a person's worth," she had said, her voice tinged with disdain. "True power lies in influence and wealth, not in being called 'Lady' or 'Dame.'"

That left Ranran with a sense of unease. If it isn't her great-grandmother, then who is this person? Why send her to Edgewood at all? Why even went as far as to tip her great-grandmother about them?

The more Ranran pondered the enigma of "The Deer," the more tangled her thoughts became. It felt like she was chasing shadows, each lead fading into ambiguity as soon as she tried to grasp it.

................................................................................

"Ranran, I think you watched too much of those documentaries about spies."

Those were the words of the 7-year-old contortionist, who was busy using a comb to groom the white tiger sitting lazily outside the circus tent.

Ranran and Amelia both met during one of the 3-year-old's escape attempts from Edgewood, hiding out in a circus grounds. Ranran had been drawn to the vibrant colors and the smell of popcorn, eager to explore a world far beyond the school's confines. Since Ranran didn't have many friends, hanging out here seems to be a good place to kills some time.

But the 3-year-old is certain she isn't wrong about this theory, "But Amelia, it must be true! Or else how is it I can't leave this place!?"

"You are still a toddler, you know? I have no problem skipping Edgewood, because I am a soon-to-be certified contortionist that happens to have 4 additional years of experience there as a student, while you only just started out in a few weeks." Amelia paused, her tiny hands stilling for a moment as she regarded Ranran with wide, innocent eyes. The white tiger, a magnificent creature with fur that glimmered under the circus lights, let out a low rumble, as if sensing the weight of their conversation.

"But Amelia, that's exactly why it doesn't make sense!" Ranran insisted, her small fists clenched in frustration. "You always told me stories of how the teachers are merciless when it comes to students doing terrible things within the school, let alone, expelling them. Yet, when it came to me, I was punished by being forced to attend more lessons!"

"To be fair, maybe they think you just need more help. You're still young enough to learn the rights and wrong, after all." Amelia frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to process Ranran's words.

"No! There is someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes onto me, I can feel it!"

"Like what?"

Recalling the secret conversation of her parents last year when she was around 2-years-old, she revealed, "My mother....she was talking to my dad being confuse about how is it that her grandmother-I mean, great-grandmother, was able to track us down even though my mother barely said or shared a thing about us before taking us here. They were saying things that maybe someone tipped my great-grandmother off."

"Is it possible that your mom and dad could've posted all of this on Facebook or something? Nowadays it is easier to track someone true such means."

"No such thing!" Ranran shook her head vigorously. "My parents will never do such a thing, they are the type to keep things within the house."

The white tiger shifted restlessly, as if sensing the gravity of their discussion. Amelia continued grooming the tiger's fur, but her focus was clearly on Ranran. "Ok, then did it not occur to you that since your great-grandmother is rich, she could've paid people to track you guys down easily? It's a common theme for the students of Edgewood to have their families do that."

"That itself is something I thought about it, but...." Ranran paused, her small brow furrowing in thought. "It doesn't make sense either," she said, her voice lower now. "Cause my parents are good in hiding from such people."

"You don't know that, Ranran. Nothing can't stay hidden forever."

Ranran crossed her arms, frustration bubbling up again. "I don't know, I feel like...my family could've stayed hidden a lot longer, just that someone tipped my great-grandmother off. If the tipping didn't happen, I would've been gaming and watching tv all day instead of wasting my life away here in Edgewood," She glanced at the white tiger, who seemed to listen intently, "Right, Fifi?"

The white tiger, affectionately named Fifi by the children, lifted her head and let out a soft chuff, as if in agreement. Ranran couldn't help but smile, feeling a little more reassured by the big cat's presence. "See, even Fifi thinks my family is good in hiding and keeping secrets."

Amelia chuckled lightly, but her eyes were still serious. "Okay, but....let's say all of your thinking is proven to be true, do you have a reason why?"

"No, and that is why this frustrates me!" A nerve grew on the 3-year-old's forehead as she stomped on the ground, "Wait until I find that idiot, I am going to burn him or her to the crips!"

Fifi let out a low growl, as if echoing Ranran's protective spirit. Amelia took a deep breath, trying to redirect her friend's anger. "I get that you're upset, since you are force to sacrifice 2 years in advance of your supposed 'free' time away from school. But at the same time...without evidence, you only have this to entertain you."

"Exactly," Ranran scowled, frustration etched across her tiny face before cursing towards the sky, "Ah! If I can track down the idiot who did this to me, I am going to burn him on the stake!"

"Yeah yeah, a 3-year-old doing that to someone you presumably could've made up through your wild imagination." Amelia chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Suddenly, the vibrant clang of the bells from Edgewood Academy, which was a walking distance away from the circus, sent a ripple of nostalgia through both girls, reminding them of the daily rhythms of life at Edgewood.

"Ugh, school," Ranran groaned, crossing her arms again. "I can't believe I'm stuck there in that damn cage, while other kids who are not at school can go about heading to the mall and stuff!"

"You better head back, unless you want more homework."

Ranran slumped her shoulders, the weight of impending homework hanging over her like a dark cloud. "I hate homework! It's just more of that boring stuff that keeps me from having fun."

"Just go, Ranran. Unless you want to get caught by the school prefects."

"Ugh, the prefects! They're the worst! Always lurking around like they're on some sort of mission." Ranran grimaced at the thought.

................................................................................

"I know that you needed 'her' to do your bidding, but frighteningly.....I feel like that 3-year-old may be someone you may not be able to handle."

A anonymous teenage girl in a Edgewood school uniform stands in front of a mansion, opposite the gate is a anonymous little boy who is at the age of 7-year-old, standing with an air of curiosity and defiance. 

"Why do you say that?" he asked, his voice a mixture of innocence and wisdom beyond his years. 

The girl, her uniform crisp and immaculate, leaned casually against the wrought-iron gate. "She had a incredible foresight that someone tipped the family where they lived. I don't know about you, but someone of such age to be able to notice that....I don't think it is advisable  to use her."

The boy shifted his weight, considering her words. "I know."

"You know? And yet, you still decide it would be best to drag her against her will all the way here?" the girl replied, pushing herself off the gate. "You saw how she reacted when she was at school during the interview, there is no possibility that she could be-"

"But she is our last remaining option," he insisted. "The rest of the kids in Edgewood, including the other candidates...I don't mean to call them 'stupid', but they are no closer to thinking ahead, similarly like a blindfolded cat in a dark room."

"You-"

"The reason I picked her in the first place is because she doesn't follow the herd, also, she isn't like that other 'candidate', that other one however....as soon as 'she' ever sets her foot on Edgewood, it would be speeding up the school's doom."

"But she doesn't like schooling, you know?" The girl crossed her arms, unconvinced. "Did you not hear of the reported incidents she had caused?"

"True," he acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean she is a lost cause."

The girl narrowed her eyes, skepticism still clinging to her. "And supposedly she realizes it was you, how are you going to deal with it?"

"I don't plan on hiding it when she finds out anyway," he replied, a hint of a smile forming. 

"Just like that?" she asked, incredulous. "You think she'll just accept that you've been manipulating her life from the shadows?"

"No child or any human being would ever entertain the idea of being manipulated," he said, his voice steady. "But if she smarten up eventually, she will realize she will have more to lose if she doesn't notice it. After all, ignorance can at times be....one's Achilles heel."

The girl raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "And what if she decides to reject everything? You really think she'll just fall in line?"

"I don't expect her to fall in line," he replied. "I want her to question, to challenge everything. That's how we'll know she's truly engaged. I want her to see that she has power in this situation, that her choices matter."

"And if that doesn't happen?"

"We will 'end' her."

The teenage girl frowned, surprised by his bluntness. "As in.....death?"

"I mean let's put it this way, our school is already in a precarious position," he said, his tone darkening, "The last thing we need is to add more unrest to the situation."

"Are you serious right now?" she said, incredulous. "She is three!"

"I don't want to go there," he clarified, before reminding the older girl. "But now that you mentioned it, do I not recall who not only almost lose their entire adopted family to murder, let alone, almost lose their life to a total of 8 evil malicious beings?"

The girl's eyes widened, anger and disbelief battling within her. "How is my family situation comparable to her!?"

"There is a common theme in both yours and her situation: Naivety." 

The girl clenched her fists, her voice rising. "That's ridiculous!"

"When you arrived to the prestigious Edgewood Academy the very first day, you didn't question the fact that your supposed 'scholarship' was none other than a sham orchestrated by your ambitiously greedy biological mother who abandoned you at some park because you had some heart disease that she refused to fork extra money to have it cured," he said, maintaining his calm demeanor. "I mean your grades are so average...how is it that you didn't question that you scored a scholarship here baffles me so.... given that our standard in academics there are high."

The girl felt a flush of anger rising in her chest. "You-"

"I have more to point out," he replied, his voice unyielding. "That supposed 'bestie' of yours...didn't she tried to frame you for being 'pregnant' when it was her all along?"

The girl's eyes widened, disbelief mingling with rage. 

"You want more? I have plenty to say," he challenged, a cold glint in his eye. "When the signs were obvious that your real mother was merely bringing you here just so to inherit that idiot old man's money-"

"That's enough!" she shot back, fists clenched at her sides. "You can't just throw my past at me like it's some kind of weapon. I'm not the same person I was back then!"

"True," he acknowledged. "But let me ask you one thing after listing this and that: If I hadn't intervene, would you be happy to know that you not only would've ended up getting murdered by those same 8 scums who will be more than happy to take advantage of your death? Also, would you would be blissfully happy to indulge in your own ignorance.....that it would be worth your adopted parents' soon-to-be demise?"

The girl's breath hitched, the weight of his words settling over her like a shroud, as she was too speechless to speak.

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "Look, I am sorry if I seem to be insulting you, but that is the reality of our situation right now. This applies onto that girl as well. Ignorance doesn't shield anyone from harm. If we don't intervene, we could be signing everyone's death warrant, which also includes her."

The teenage girl met his gaze in silence, her resolve wavering as memories of her own past flickered through her mind. "As expected from the son of a marquis, let alone, soon-to-be Prince of the royal family. You have your way with words, even though it may sound harsh."

"....as if I wanted to become a prince," He paused, his expression soured a little at that, "I would rather be a marquis son for life than a stupid prince of the 21st century. I mean...what do they do all day? Giving smiles, cutting ribbons and shaking hands.....it's mundane and boring as hell."

The girl raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through her tension. "I never thought I would hear this from the son of a Marquis. Let alone, from someone who is pro-monarchy."

"As long as the royal family is run and managed by incompetent family members, that support would be revoked," he replied, crossing his arms with a sigh. "Which is why I am doing all of this in the first place."

She studied him, curiosity piqued. "I know you mentioned before that you want the school to be pried away from that fiance of yours, fair enough. But what is your true purpose of the entire thing?"

He hesitated for a moment, weighing his words carefully. "Love."

The girl blinked, caught off guard. "Love? That's....as in....you want to....fall in love with a new girl?"

He nodded, a serious expression on his face. "More like....I would like to build a family with the one that I cherish. I....don't want to end up the way my father and step-mother ended up in."

The teenage girl said nothing, as his family's plight was rather tragic in many ways.

She had heard rumours before arriving here, about how he was bore through an arrange marriage. Though he suffered just like any other kid who are born thorough such terms within this neighbourhood, his one is by far in her opinion....born into the most twisted circumstances anyone could think of.

"Do you....still think your step-mother and father are in the right?" The teenager found herself asking the young marquis. 

The boy stiffened at the question, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn't immediately respond. Instead, he stared ahead, his gaze distant, as though searching for the right words or perhaps grappling with his own conflicted thoughts. The moment hung between them, heavy with the weight of the question.

After what seemed like an eternity, he exhaled sharply, breaking the silence. "Adultery itself....be it whether one ends up in an arrange marriage or not, is wrong. However....." His voice was low, tinged with bitterness. "Rightfully so, if there is anyone to be blamed....it's none other than my real mother who ruined both of their lives."

The teenager blinked, taken aback by his response. She hadn't expected him to go in that direction, especially with the subtle weight he gave to the word adultery—as though it were something that not only stained his past but perhaps even defined it. But then, his words turned sharper, edged with the kind of bitterness that hinted at deeper wounds.

"Your real mother?" she echoed, narrowing her eyes. "Then, those rumours that your father was drugged was...?"

"Exactly," he said, cutting her off, his voice suddenly cold. "That is all you need to know."

The girl's mind raced, struggling to process the words that had just left his mouth. 

Before she could press further, he goes to ask, "Your arranged fiance that I suggested....how has he been treating you?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with the implication of something much more delicate than a casual inquiry. The girl shifted uneasily under his gaze, her eyes momentarily flickering away as the weight of his words sunk in. She was a teenager, yes, but even she knew that the kind of scrutiny the boy in front of her was capable of would reveal far more than she was ready to admit.

"He treats me... well enough," she said after a long pause, her voice betraying her attempt at nonchalance. 

".....but not coldly, right?"

"What?! No no no!" The girl's voice shot out in a flurry of denial, her face flushing as she quickly adjusted her stance, trying to cover the moment of vulnerability. Her eyes darted to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze. "I mean," she started again, trying to sound more composed, "he's..."

"It's alright, I know he feels the same about you."

The boy's words were surprisingly gentle, but there was an almost mocking undertone to them, as though he was toying with her. Her breath caught in her throat, the subtle vulnerability she had shown now coming back to bite her. She didn't know how to respond—how could she, when his words hit too close to home, too painfully accurate?

"He does not," she blurted, her voice shaky despite herself. "I mean... it's not like he didn't. I—how should I put this? We're just... two people fulfilling our common goal, that is all. There's no 'feelings' involved. We're not like... that."

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips.  

"Again...." she muttered under her breath, stepping back, trying to distance herself from the intensity of the moment. "I don't think I would mind marrying him later on.....seeing that he too went through something similar as me."

The little boy didn't respond as she continued to ramble about.

"However, to be honest.....after what I went through....I fear putting him through this..."

"But he knows all about it, does he not? And if anything, I know he would be more than happy to put an end to your situation. So what is stopping you?"

The boy's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, like he was pushing her to confront something she wasn't ready to face. The girl froze for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest. His words hung in the air, sharp and pointed, as though he was trying to expose something hidden beneath her defenses.

She looked at him, unsure how to respond. The boy wasn't wrong. He knew she had been through hell, and so did the man she was supposed to marry. Yet there was something about the idea of sharing her burdens—of laying them bare before him—that made her stomach churn.

"I know he knows," she muttered, her voice quieter now, almost lost. "I mean he lived through the exact situation as i did, and he will do so...even so—"

Her words faltered as the memories of everything she had endured rose to the surface. The lies she'd been told. The people who had used her. The ones who had forced her into a life she didn't choose. The fear, the shame, the guilt.

The boy watched her intently, his expression unreadable.  

"I...don't want to cower myself and leave this burden onto him. Cause if I do....people will forever think that I kept relying on his connections and family who doted on me like their daughter. I....want to set this record straight with my on terms, as in....be their equal, you know what I mean?"

The boy didn't move, his gaze unwavering, as though he were dissecting each word, each syllable she spoke. His silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, allowing the weight of her words to settle. "Alright."

"Eh?"

"It sounds like your 'fate' is finally diverting from the original, that is good sign."

The girl's heart skipped a beat at the boy's words before she sighed in relief, though it was tinged with a sense of unease. "You think so?" she asked, the weight of her decision still hanging in the air. The words he spoke felt like a turning point, but the path he had outlined for her was anything but clear.

The boy gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Fate doesn't always follow the script. Sometimes, it's better to rewrite it yourself." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, as if he were daring her to take control of the narrative.

She clenched her fists, the energy of his words stirring something inside her—not in a way that made her feel burdened or manipulated, but in a way that felt almost... right. His words had a weight to them, a certain confidence, and it wasn't the kind of overbearing pressure she was used to from others. It was more like he was handing her a challenge, a choice. Rewrite it yourself.

"By the way....did you bring the file I asked you to?"

The girl's thoughts were still buzzing, but his words quickly snapped her back to the present. She blinked, momentarily thrown off by the abrupt shift in conversation. "The file?" she repeated, unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

The boy's gaze sharpened, but his expression remained impassive. "Her file. You did bring it, right?"

She frowned, her mind rushing to catch up. She had completely forgotten about it.

"Ah, about that," Her eyes darted to her bag before frantically searching for it.

The girl's heart skipped as she fumbled through her bag, her fingers brushing over various objects in a frenzy. Where is it? She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she desperately searched through the clutter of notebooks, pens, and loose papers.

Finally, with a deep breath, she pulled out the file. It was slightly crumpled at the edges, as though it had been shoved hastily into her bag and then forgotten—just like her mind had done in the moment. She handed it to him, her fingers trembling as she extended the folder. "You father isn't aware about-"

"Don't worry!" She reassured with a beam before passing it through the gates, "He won't know till the last minute."

Taking the file from her, he flipped through the contents before scanning with his eyes, reading Ranran's name on the first page. His eyes narrowed slightly as he skimmed through the file's contents. A mixture of curiosity and calculation passed over his face as he continued flipping through the pages, each piece of information confirming what he already suspected but also raising more questions.

"Are you....are you sure your father confirmed that her IQ is above 135 plus?" he said after a long pause, looking up from the file with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Hey, my father is a professional when it comes to these things," she said quickly, trying to brush off the concern in his voice. She flashed a confident smile, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "He's never been wrong with his evaluations before."

Once more, the little flipped the pages of the file before adding, "Well then....why is it her academic results is still so terrible!?"

"My father says she intentionally pretended to answer stupid answers," The teenager sighed to the little boy, "And it ain't strange, given the circumstances that you manipulated others into dragging her into Edgewood, it's no wonder she intentionally failed to get herself expelled."

The little boy's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as he processed her words. He paused, flipping the file closed with a deliberate snap before looking up at her with a measured, almost calculating gaze.

"That's true," he said slowly, as though weighing her every word. "But... for someone as 'intelligent' as her who is stupid enough to throw away her future in some prestigious academy just to get expelled....I would've thought she would've been thankful at least."

"To be honest, I ain't sure whether I am qualified to say any of this, but-"

"....but what?"

The girl hesitated, then pointed out, "When I was around her age, I too didn't want to go to school."

The little boy's eyes flicked toward her, in disbelief, "You? Of all people!?" he said, his tone skeptical but not dismissive. "Why?"

"I mean....around last year when you asked me to locate her at that time, what I found was....."The girl shifted her stance, her gaze momentarily drifting away from him. She didn't know why she was saying it, but something about the way he looked at her made her feel like she needed to explain. "She....was always left at home alone while the adults in her family had to go to work to keep the roof afloat. And from what I've heard when I question around was....she always sits in front of the TV or computer the entire day. You can see where I am heading with this, right?"

The little boy's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression neutral as he absorbed her words, but the faintest flicker of something—maybe curiosity or discomfort—shifted in his eyes.

"She was... neglected?" he asked, his voice softer now, though still with that sharp edge of skepticism.

The girl hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal. There was something about the way the boy was listening now, a sort of quiet intensity that made her feel like she was walking on delicate ground. But the words spilled out, anyway.

"I wouldn't call it neglect exactly... but, in a way." She shifted her weight again, glancing down at the ground. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the family love her a lot. But if you think about it, when you are 2 year old, spending all your time in front of a screen, alone, day after day gaming and watching stuff, then all of a sudden force to abandon all of that just to go to school everyday and do homework...."

The girl paused, the words hanging in the air as she searched for a way to articulate the frustration that had been building inside her for so long. She looked back up at the boy, who was watching her intently, his expression unreadable, but his posture softening slightly.

"I hate studying too back then, you know?" She sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken emotions. "It's boring. Which is why when I first heard about this place call 'school' at that time, I just wanted nothing to do with it. And if I were her, I would be fuming mad."

The boy's expression remained guarded, but his posture shifted just enough to suggest that he was listening, truly listening now. "Even if...the school is prestigious?"

"Prestigious or not, the boredom of school is something one can never escape from. Maybe for kids like you and the other children of aristocrats, this is like all of your sixth sense, because you are all....how should I use the word.....'tune'? Alright, I will use that word: Tune, into thinking that 'studying' and 'homework' is fun. But to us who are use to playing games and things, this whole idea of sitting in a classroom, staring at textbooks all day, is like... torture." She shrugged, letting out a short laugh, but it was edged with a faint bitterness. "It's hard to explain, but when you're used to doing things your own way, and suddenly, you're told that all your time and energy needs to go into something that feels pointless, it's easy to understand why some kids just rebel against it."

The boy's eyes narrowed as he absorbed her words, but this time, there was no judgment in his gaze—just a quiet contemplation, as if he was trying to put himself in her shoes.

After a long pause, the teenage girl decided to press it a bit, "You know, now that I mentioned it, should we-"

"No," The boy looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head towards her. "I think I get it," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "But she has to remain there, whether she likes it or not."