***

The scene of the brutal punishment of the careless student was still fresh in Rika's mind as Arrek pulled him along to the dorm rooms. The guy was talking about something, gesticulating wildly with his free hand, but Rikald wasn't listening at all.

He liked the academy he ended up in less and less. And the people he had encountered in such a short period were causing him serious concerns.

Rika still had no idea what to expect from his new roommate. And the prospect of being alone with him in a closed room made the guy openly anxious. But he wouldn't dare share his worries with the curator because Sadis Eigert scared him even more than Arrek. Because of this, Rikald felt like a cornered animal, with no choice but to snap at any action from those around him.

So, once in the room, which was the size of a closet, he hurried to get as far away from Arrek as possible and stood still, examining the surroundings.

The room was cramped but bright. It barely fit two single beds, a shared desk, two chairs, a built-in closet, and two nightstands for personal belongings. Above one of the beds, soft green walls held several posters of rock bands and a coin collection. They belonged to Arrek, as did the rest of the items scattered in a chaotic mess around the room.

"Well, this is our abode. Not exactly royal chambers, but it'll do."

Arrek grinned broadly and quickly removed his jacket from his roommate's bed. Then he hastily started gathering his other things.

"By the way, don't do that," he warned the guy. "Rooms are supposed to be in exemplary order. It's written in the academy regulations. And breaking this rule is severely punished. The first time might just be a warning, but... it all depends on Sadis's mood."

Rika sighed heavily and said:

"This academy feels like a medieval boarding school."

Arrek chuckled, appreciating the comparison, and showed him where to put his clothes.

The closet had six shelves, three of which were already occupied. Rika noticed that the items on them were arranged in strict order. On the top shelf, Arrek kept towels and bed linens, the middle one held underwear and pajamas, and the bottom one had everyday clothes and a tracksuit. A separate section of the closet held a winter jacket, uniform, and several shirts hanging on hangers. There were also free hangers for Rika's things.

While Arrek was tidying up the room, Rikald unpacked his bag.

He didn't have towels or bed linens, but his roommate said that the academy administration provided those for the students.

After sorting out his clothes, Rika hid his notebook in the free nightstand and sat on the bed, absently staring at the dreary view outside the window.

When he finished organizing, Arrek flopped onto his bed and looked at the newcomer.

Rika looked depressed and exhausted, so to cheer him up a bit, Arrek decided to start a conversation.

"You don't seem like a troubled kid," he said with a smirk. "You seem pretty normal. Your parents must not have any time for you? By the way, who are they? Some extremely busy businesspeople?"

"My mom works as a clerk in a large company that specializes in international trade," Rika replied. "She really doesn't have time for me. But it's not because of her job. And I don't know my father."

"A clerk?" Arrek said, genuinely surprised. "Seriously?"

Rika nodded, not understanding what in his words had caused such surprise on his freckled roommate's face.

"Wow! You're really lucky," Arrek declared and reached for a bottle of mineral water. "You're really loved, you know that? I can't even imagine what kind of crazy loan your mother had to take out to send you here."

"What loan?" Rika snorted. "Her lover paid for my schooling here. I don't think he spent much. They've only known each other for a couple of months."

Arrek choked on his water. Sprays went everywhere, and to avoid spilling the rest on his bed, he placed the bottle on the table.

"Not much?!" he asked after coughing and looked at Rika as if he were insane. "You're joking, right? Do you even know how much it costs to study at this academy? It's cheaper to go to Sarah Lawrence College! You're definitely not telling me everything."

"What am I not telling you?" Rika frowned.

He had no idea how much it cost to study at Sarah Lawrence College. And he couldn't imagine why "Thirty-Third" would pay a huge amount for his education. But Arrek looked at him with extreme disbelief, and the guy said:

"I live in the Bronx with my mom and sister. We don't have money even for an average academy. At least that's what my mom says. And her lover works as a driver for some businessman. Where would he get that kind of money?"

"Well, most likely, that's exactly what's listed in the tax declaration," Arrek laughed. "But the funds for 'St. Isaac's Academy' came from some very generous tips. I'll have to tell Irman. He'll appreciate the joke. Can you give me the contacts of that businessman later? I'll get a job as a gardener. Or maybe a maid."

"Not funny," Rika said, feeling hurt. "This has to be some kind of mistake. What about you? Are you saying your parents are rich?"

"Well," Arrek drawled mockingly, "they're not dukes, but they're well-off. My father is the personal psychoanalyst of an English aristocrat. Not a driver, but he earns quite a bit."

"What about those two guys in the geography classroom?" Rika asked, feeling a heaviness in his stomach at the thought of being in an academy for wealthy guys.

"The guy with glasses is the son of a private clinic owner. And Irman is the son of a politician. His father is Ralph Herder. Heard of him?"

"No," Rika replied in a hoarse voice.

He wasn't much interested in politics and only watched entertainment shows on TV.

"Maybe there's some kind of scholarship or charitable aid for the underprivileged at this academy?" he suggested, looking at his roommate hopefully. "There must be kids from normal families here, right? Like me?"

Arrek shook his head.

"No, there aren't," he said, disappointing Rika. "And honestly, it's hard to call your family normal. But you don't choose your parents. Don't worry about it!" Arrek advised, noticing how dejected Rika looked. "Not all the students here are uncontrollable jerks that even their parents can't handle. There are normal guys too."

Listening to him, Rika struggled to suppress a painful groan and collapsed onto the bed, clenching his fists.

His head was buzzing with the information he had received, and a real fear settled in his soul.

How did he end up in such a situation? And how did his mother manage to trick her lover into giving such a large sum of money?

"Are you okay?" Arrek asked, looking at him with surprise.

"Not really," Rika admitted. "I think I'm in big trouble."

Arrek snorted and glanced at the clock.

"You got that right. 'In trouble' is the perfect phrase. But you'll truly understand that a bit later. For now, stop moping. You've got a test coming up. Let's go."

Arrek got up from his bed and headed for the door. But when he looked back at Rika, the latter hadn't moved, as if glued to his mattress.

"Hey, are you paralyzed or something?" he asked suspiciously. "I said let's go."

"What test?" Rika propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his roommate in confusion. "I didn't prepare for any tests. I thought my admission was already settled."

Rikald didn't know whether to be relieved or despairing. On one hand, if he failed the tests and got kicked out of the academy, he'd be rid of a real pain. On the other hand, his mom would never forgive him and would kill him on the spot if he came back home without even starting classes.

"The admission issue is settled, you're right," Arrek smirked, "but before classes start, we need to determine which department to place you in. If you're a humanities guy, you've got no business in the math and physics department. And vice versa. Plus, we need to assess your level of preparation."

Rika sighed in disappointment. His last hope of escape melted away like smoke. He had no choice but to get up and follow his roommate.

The next two hours, Rika spent in the testing office, where a pleasant-looking older man handed him three different tests and asked him to take the questions seriously.

In the first test, he was asked to rate his personal and emotional qualities on a ten-point scale; in the second, to answer abstract questions, most of which Rika didn't understand at all; and in the third, to answer questions from the school curriculum on various subjects from math to art.

When Rikald emerged from the office, he had a terrible headache. But Arrek, who was waiting for him outside, didn't give him a moment's rest and dragged him to the supply room. There, Rika was provided with a uniform, towels, bed linens, and toiletries.

When the guys returned to the room, a gloomy Irman was already waiting for them.

The prefect introduced himself curtly to the newcomer and handed him a sheet with the names of the subjects he'd been assigned to. Arrek, glancing at the schedule, whistled cheerfully.

"Buddy, looks like we're going to be in the same stream. Consider yourself lucky."

Rika also studied the sheet carefully, noting with surprise that math was among the subjects.

"You said they'd consider my strengths," he said, looking reproachfully at his roommate.

But Irman replied:

"Math, English, history, and geography are mandatory subjects. The other three are chosen individually."

"Too bad I can't opt out of geography," Rika lamented.

"What's the point in opting out?" Arrek chuckled. "If it's just because of Sadis, that's foolish. He's not only a teacher and mentor here but also the disciplinary coordinator. So there's no escaping his punishing hand. All the teachers report students to him, and he dishes out the punishments."

Rika sighed heavily and glanced at Irman. But the guy pretended not to notice his gaze and said, addressing Arrek:

"Go to lunch now, and then to the library for books."

"Can I stay in the room?" Rika asked hopefully. "I don't have an appetite."

"Suit yourself," Arrek replied. "But once the holidays are over, you'd better not go on hunger strikes. Sadis can't stand that. If he thinks you're playing the victim and seeking attention, you're done for."

Rikald nodded understandingly and, watching the guys leave with a heavy gaze, went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, trying to overcome the feeling of nausea that had settled in his throat like a dense lump.

Arrek returned about an hour later and shook his drowsy roommate awake to take him to the library and show him the common room where students gathered during their free time.

"In the summer, you can walk in the park, but in the winter we entertain ourselves here," his roommate said.

Rika glanced around the spacious, empty room with numerous shelves holding books and board games, and asked hopefully:

"Are there any computers here?"

"There are," Arrek nodded with a mocking look, "in the programming lab, and the teachers have them. Students are prohibited from using phones, tablets, laptops, computers, and other communication devices. The restriction is lifted only in the third year and only for phones. Those are the rules. By the way, there are no TVs either."

Rikald wilted.

The last hope that he could find out anything about Ethelstan's fate vanished. But Arrek interpreted his disappointment differently.

"Don't worry," he said. "It's hard only for the first month. Then you get used to entertaining yourself without electronic gadgets. You start reading more and playing board games. Which ones do you prefer?"

Rika shrugged and hesitantly guessed:

"Maybe Battleship."

Arrek frowned, then snorted.

"What a bore!" he declared and dragged the guy to the shelf with games. "Chess is better. Do you know how to play?"

Rika shook his head, but Arrek seemed not to notice, because a moment later he had already set up a chessboard on the table and began arranging the pieces.

"You'll learn," he said confidently, gesturing for Rika to sit down. "It's not that hard."

The next few hours were spent on what Rikald considered the most boring game.

His brain wasn't suited for complex strategies, and Arrek won each game skillfully. In the end, Arrek admitted that playing with such a weak and uninterested opponent like Rika was indeed not very fun. After folding the chessboard and returning it to its place, they chatted a bit more about the academy rules and went to dinner.

The rather spacious dining hall was surprisingly empty. At the three long tables, there were at most ten people. Rika saw Irman, who was grimly consuming the food in front of him. At the neighboring table, he noticed Irman's adversary, who hadn't touched his food at all. It seemed he was unwell after the fight. His pale, sweaty face clearly indicated poor health.

Arrek led Rikald to Irman, next to whom were two untouched plates of dinner.

"This will be your place. I arranged it with the hall monitors," Arrek said, swinging his leg over the long bench that stretched along the entire table, and sitting down on Irman's left.

But before Rika could sit in the spot indicated to him, to the right of the class leader, Irman warned him grimly:

"Just don't touch me if you don't want to walk around with broken arms."

"I wasn't planning to," Rika responded, looking with surprise at his plate, which contained something that looked disgusting but turned out to be lentil porridge with overcooked vegetables.

Arrek had warned him that the food at the academy was terrible. But how bad it was, he realized only now.

Noticing the newcomer's glance at his plate, Arrek laughed heartily.

"Eat up, eat up," he said mockingly, without much appetite, putting the not-so-tasty food into his mouth. "The sooner you get used to it, the fewer problems you'll have. In any case, tonight's dinner is a real feast."

Rika sighed again and picked up his spoon.

The food looked terrible, but his empty stomach accepted it more than gratefully. And in no time, the guy emptied his plate.

Irman and Arrek appreciated his bravery and joked with him throughout the meal.

Rika, sensing no hostility from the guys, relaxed a bit and even allowed himself a few jibes at their expense. Overall, the dinner was quite positive.

However, Rika couldn't shake the feeling that the guy with glasses sitting at the neighboring table didn't have the friendliest feelings towards him. But he quickly thought that the guy was probably glaring at Irman, not him, and relaxed again.

After finishing the awful-tasting cocoa, the guys got up from the table and headed back to the dormitory.

Rika was utterly exhausted from the day. And as soon as he got into bed, he almost immediately fell asleep.

***

"Get up, brats! The sun is at its peak!"

A loud, angry voice shattered the sleepy silence of the bedroom. This was followed by the crash of a door slamming against the wall.

Rikald jumped up in bed, staring in confusion at the silhouette in the doorway, barely recognizing the first-year class leader.

Arrek was also awakened by the loud shout and, disentangling himself from his blanket, threw a pillow at Irman.

"Go to hell, Herder!" he rasped, falling back onto his bed and pulling the blanket over his head. "Why are you yelling?"

"Get your butt out of bed!" Irman ordered. "Or have you forgotten what day it is? Umino, you get up too. Breakfast is in half an hour."

With these words, he left, leaving the door wide open.

Rika glanced heavily at the window, noting that it was still dark outside, and groaned as he collapsed back onto his sweat-damp pillow.

He had been dreaming about that cursed plane again, which spectacularly exploded on takeoff at the moment the door slammed against the wall. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he turned onto his right side and asked Arrek, who was hiding under the blanket:

"What day is it? Isn't it Sunday?"

"Yeah, it is," Arrek replied, yawning loudly.

The pillow lay forlornly on the floor in the doorway, and Arrek looked at it with longing through a small gap between the blanket and the mattress.

He really didn't want to get up, but time was relentlessly moving forward, forcing him to gather his courage and stick the tips of his toes out of his refuge.

"If you used to love Sundays, you'll... soon stop," Arrek prophesied gloomily, stretching out on the bed. "I've hated them for six months now."

"What's so awful about them?" Rika asked, still lying motionless in bed.

The open door let in a draft, making the room cool. Rika had no desire to get out of bed.

"You'll find out soon enough," his roommate promised with a hint of mockery, then urged, "Go take a shower. Otherwise, you'll have to bathe in ice-cold water."

"Why's that?" Rikald protested.

"Were you not listening to me at all?" Arrek sighed in resignation and yawned desperately, stretching.

Then he sat up in bed and ruffled his hair.

"Because there's not enough hot water for everyone," he explained, catching the inquisitive gaze of Rikald's large brown eyes, which looked black in the dim light of the room. "But if you don't want to, I'll go first."

"No way," Rika said, quickly getting out of bed and heading to the shower that was installed in each bedroom.

He was in such a hurry that he forgot his towel but didn't bother to go back for it. He quickly rinsed off under the cool water.

Had he delayed another minute, he would have had to settle for an ice-cold shower. And Rika hated being cold.

He dashed out of the tiny shower room, which barely fit a stall and a sink, and dived back under the blanket to warm up a bit.

Arrek laughed at him, calling him a "child of civilization," and went to take his shower as well. When he came out, Rikald was already dressed.

Rikald watched Arrek surreptitiously as he pulled on the first clothes he could find, admiring his strong, athletic build with a tinge of envy.

Arrek, catching his roommate's inquisitive gaze, chuckled and inexplicably winked at him. Rikald, embarrassed, called him an idiot.

In the dining hall, they were met with a less-than-appetizing breakfast. At least, it didn't look very appealing. Nevertheless, at the sight of the plate, Arrek's stomach growled demandingly. Rika, on the other hand, eyed the porridge with suspicion and fear, which made Arrek laugh heartily.

"Don't be such a wimp!" Arrek clapped the newcomer on the shoulder and nudged him toward the table. "You'll get used to the food. Honestly, it looks much worse than it tastes. So close your eyes and dig in. Everyone does that at first, and then they end up eating it with reverence."

Rika decided to take his word for it and sat down at the table.

Today, there were many more plates of breakfast on the tables than yesterday. He would even say there were too many plates, leading him to conclude that students were starting to return to the academy.

Rika also noticed several new faces already having breakfast, chewing the disgusting-looking food gloomily. Other newcomers, either in groups or alone, entered the dining hall, loudly chatting with each other and friends already seated at the tables. Soon, the dining hall was filled with the clatter of dishes, the murmur of voices, laughter, and sometimes arguments.

A sandy-haired guy sat down next to Rika, immediately greeting Arrek and only then turning his attention to the newcomer.

"Another poor soul, huh?" the guy smiled and casually put an arm around Rikald's shoulders, looking into his surprised and very handsome face. Then, with a note of regret, he added, "Kid, you're in trouble. You can't be that cute. Not in this academy."

The stranger ruffled Rika's hair with his hand and laughed when the newcomer's face stretched in surprise.

"And who might you be?" the guy asked with obvious interest.

"Rikald Umino," Rika introduced himself after swallowing the porridge stuck in his throat.

"Don't remember that name. Who are your parents?"

"His father is a foreign diplomat," Arrek answered for Rika. "And, Olsen, get your hands off him. Don't push your luck."

"Come on, I just wanted to get acquainted," the guy said, continuing to smile boldly. "Besides, it doesn't seem like he minds this kind of attention."

"He minds," Arrek said, putting a spoonful of porridge in his mouth, chewing slowly, and glaring at his classmate.

"Stop deciding for him," Olsen insisted, glancing at Rika. "With Joss, you don't stand a chance. He prefers girls. But I'm not as picky about partners. Maybe you'd like to take a walk this evening and discuss our future?"

"No, thanks," Rika tried to shake off his classmate's arm, but Olsen held him tightly, not intending to let go.

"Come on. I'm not a freak. And I can fight. Better choose me while you still can. I promise I can protect you. Joss won't lift a finger when trouble starts. But I'll be your reliable guardian."

"Leave me alone."

Rika tensed. He didn't like these conversations. First, Arrek had jumped on him as soon as they were alone, and now another guy was clinging to him, trying to involve him in some unclear relationship.

"And if I don't?" Olsen asked.

"Then I'll smash your face in," came the voice of the class leader behind them, who, after rounding up all the freshmen in the dining hall, had finally arrived for breakfast.

Irman didn't say anything more.

Swinging his leg over the bench, he sat down next to Rika and started eating. Olsen, with an annoyed click of his tongue, removed his hand from the newcomer's shoulder.

"Herder, you really know how to ruin the moment," the guy grumbled discontentedly.

Hearing these words, Irman slammed his spoon on the table with such force that nearly every student in the dining hall turned to look at him.

"You want to discuss this?" he asked threateningly.

"What's your problem?" Olsen snapped back. "What do you and Joss even care about this kid? Have you both had your way with him and now don't want to share?"

Irman paled, the veins standing out vividly under his skin. The spoon in his strong fingers suddenly bent in half. Rika held his breath, realizing that if the class leader exploded now, he'd get caught in the crossfire.

However, Irman managed to control himself and said:

"I'm not a sick pervert like you. So shut your mouth and eat your food before I shove it down your throat along with the plate."

Surprisingly, Olsen heeded Irman's words and fell silent, evidently sensing the threat emanating from the class leader.

Rika exhaled in relief but flinched when Irman looked at him.

"You eat too. What are you staring at?"

"Okay," Rika nodded and bent over his plate.

He wanted to thank Irman for his help but didn't dare. The guy exuded a heavy, dark aura, and it was better not to provoke his anger.

Arrek watched the "showdown" with a smile, occasionally glancing at the newcomer. Rika looked confused and even a little scared. To lighten the mood, Arrek decided to start a conversation on a neutral topic.

He suggested to Irman that they have a sparring match in their free time, but the class leader only shrugged irritably.

Irman's attention was focused on the next table, where Setton was sitting.

Arrek noticed that the sophomore kept glancing at their table as if looking for someone. When Irman entered the dining hall, the bespectacled jerk seemed to perk up. He immediately struck up a conversation with his neighbor. And judging by the suddenly alert and interested look in the guy's previously empty eyes and the feverish blush on his pale cheeks, the conversation was spicy from the very first words.

"What a sneaky little bastard," Arrek muttered very quietly and threw a cautious glance at Irman, ready to intervene if a fight broke out.

Hearing Arrek's words, Ricky looked over at the neighboring table, where the sophomore he was already familiar with was openly flirting with his seatmate. Then he glanced at Irman, sensing the anger radiating from him. A few minutes ago, the class leader had just been in a bad mood, but now storm clouds seemed to have gathered over him, ready to strike everyone within a mile radius with lightning.

Rikald shook his head and returned to his food, not wanting to get involved in someone else's business. But loud laughter from the neighboring table drew his attention again.

The sophomore seemed completely oblivious to Irman's threat and was cheerfully interacting with his neighbor, openly making advances right in front of everyone. The bespectacled guy ran his fingers over the other guy's shoulder, touching the bare skin on his neck, causing him to shiver and giggle foolishly. Then he whispered something very intimate in his ear, making the guy blush and nod enthusiastically.

A sudden loud crunch made Rikald flinch and turn his head toward the sound.

It turned out that Irman had crushed a glass of juice, but he didn't seem to notice. His right hand was bleeding profusely, yet he continued to squeeze the glass shards with ferocity. Red drops trickled down his wrist onto the white tablecloth, spreading into eerie bright stains.

Arrek had anticipated trouble but hadn't imagined it would involve self-harm. It would have been one thing if Irman had just punched Setton in the face. But no, he had to injure himself.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Arrek shouted angrily, grabbing Irman by the wrist, seemingly unafraid of getting punched in the nose. "Open your hand!"

Irman blinked in surprise and finally looked at his hand, opening his palm to reveal several large shards of glass embedded in it.

"You idiot!" Arrek scolded, carefully removing the glass from the class leader's bleeding wounds. "Get to the infirmary. We don't need Sadis seeing this."

Irman nodded and quickly got up from the table, striding out of the dining hall.

A hall monitor immediately appeared next to Rika and Arrek, brushing the glass shards onto a tray with disgust and blotting the blood drops with a sponge.

"I'm reporting this incident to your mentor," the sophomore warned, tossing the sponge onto the tray with distaste. "Is there no way to control that psycho?"

"Watch your mouth, or that psycho will find a way to control you," Arrek replied grimly, trying to figure out how to justify Irman's behavior to Sadis.

The hall monitor muttered a curse and left, while Arrek turned to Rika and said:

"If you're done, let's go to the room."

He stood up from the table, casting an angry glance at Setton, who was watching their table with undisguised interest.

Rika didn't hesitate and, dropping his spoon into the uneaten porridge, followed Arrek.

"If Sadis asks, tell him it was me who accidentally hurt Irman," Arrek said quietly as they walked into the corridor. "Herder's had enough punishment from yesterday."

"What's going on between them anyway?" Rika asked.

"Who the hell knows," Arrek shrugged. "I don't get it either. Setton harasses Irman at every opportunity, and Irman takes the bait like a fool. That bespectacled jerk is a real asshole. So don't get involved with him. At all."

"I wasn't planning to," Rika assured him and fell silent, pondering the situation.

He had joined the academy in the middle of the school year and had to adapt to the established norms, but it was no easy task. He was lucky Arrek turned out to be a decent person. It could have been much worse.

"What about Olsen?" Rikald asked his roommate. "What did he want from me?"

Arrek stopped at the question and stared at Rika as if seeing him for the first time.

"Tell me, are you really that... um... naive? Or are you just pretending?" he asked with a hint of bewilderment in his voice.

When Rika pouted indignantly, Arrek realized that calling him naive was an understatement.

"He wanted to fuck you," Arrek explained bluntly. "Actually, more than that, he wanted you to agree to let him fuck you for the rest of the school year, and maybe the next two years too, if you don't bore him or he doesn't find someone more interesting."

Rika felt a new surge of fear and stopped.

"I thought you were just teasing me yesterday when you pinned me against the wall," he admitted anxiously. "Did you want my consent too?"

"Pfft!" Arrek laughed, though there was little humor in it. "Hell no! I'm straight as an arrow," he declared proudly. "I'm not interested in guys."

Arrek opened the door and entered the room. When Rika followed dejectedly, he said:

"Don't panic just yet. And remember one thing: 'no' is a truly magical word. Sometimes it needs to be backed up with a good punch to the face, but that's for the really stubborn ones. Unfortunately, there are plenty of those here. But it'll only be tough at first. A couple of fights, a few firm refusals, and they'll leave you alone. You just have to get through it."

Rikald pressed his lips together in doubt.

Hitting people for just offering sex didn't seem right. Besides, if he took a closer look at the local guys, he might find some quite attractive ones.

"Arrek," Rika called to his roommate, who was rummaging in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, "what if I like guys too? Maybe I shouldn't be so categorical in rejecting everyone?"

"Even if you like guys more than girls, or if you're a full-on gay, that's no reason to jump into bed with just anyone," Arrek remarked thoughtfully, pulling out two buckets, rags, and cleaning supplies. "The most you can expect here is sex. Don't even think about anything more serious. Hardly any of the guys here want an unsavory reputation outside the academy. Their reputations are everything. But it's up to you. Now grab a bucket and start cleaning. It'll help clear your head and chase away the gloom."

He handed a bucket to his roommate and smiled slyly.

"Start with the shower. I'll tidy up here."

Rika was taken aback, staring at the cleaning supplies.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"More than ever. Sadis will do an inspection tonight, and if it's dirty, we're in trouble."

"It's hard to believe rich kids clean their own rooms," Rika muttered.

Arrek chuckled and said:

"It's not just the rooms. Hurry up; we still have to clean the communal bathrooms and the math classroom."

"That's barbaric."

Rika was full of indignation but got up and carried the bucket to the shower.

"What's the point of paying a fortune to live in near-poverty and scrub toilets?" he grumbled, filling the bucket with water.

"Ask your parents," Arrek suggested. "By the way, this academy has a very high rating and many positive reviews. Studying here is considered a privilege."

"It shows," Rika said, glancing around the fairly clean room and shaking his head.

However, noticing Arrek picking up a broom to sweep the floor, Rika stopped arguing and got to work.

He often had to clean up at home and knew what needed to be done. It was strange that the children of politicians, businessmen, and public figures were dutifully cleaning and didn't even think to complain about it.

Then again, remembering the geography teacher and his disciplinary methods, all questions disappeared on their own.

***

Cleaning took the students almost the entire day. They only took a break for lunch and then resumed running around with mops and buckets throughout the building. What initially seemed like a boring chore turned into a rather engaging adventure, except for the part involving cleaning the toilets.

No one was supervising them, so the classrooms and corridors frequently erupted into chaos with scattered rags, spilled water, and heated arguments about who would clean up the mess.

However, by evening, despite the mess the students had made, the academy sparkled with cleanliness. The tired guys settled in the common room, finally able to attend to their own activities.

Arrek once again brought out the chessboard and, lacking a partner, began playing against himself. Rika watched him with a bored expression, trying to follow his thoughts, but eventually grew tired of the pointlessness and went to the bookshelves to find something interesting to read.

That's when Rikald ran into trouble. Four sophomores surrounded him, forming a tight semicircle, and questions began to fly from all sides:

"And who are you?" asked a tall, skinny guy with a hooked nose and a face covered in countless small pimples.

"What a cute bunny we have here!" another guy drawled, tugging at the bandage on Rika's neck, which covered a still-healing tattoo. "What's with the neck? Hickeys? And who dared before me? You know, I'm the favorite here. All newcomers go through me and leave very satisfied. Want to give it a try?"

"Don't scare him off, idiot!" laughed the third. "He'll run away, and you won't catch him."

Rika pressed his back against the wall, staring at the vultures looming over him. He could defend himself and wasn't afraid of pain. But right now, no one was threatening him, and no one seemed intent on hitting him. Quite the opposite...

"So, what's your name, bunny?"

Another chess move remained unfinished. Arrek didn't immediately understand what was happening, but when someone behind him mockingly announced that the show had begun, an unpleasant premonition crept into his soul. It was confirmed when he spotted Rika. Or rather, finding his roommate behind the sophomores was nearly impossible, but Arrek quickly figured out who was cornered.

Leaving the chessboard, he swiftly got up from the table and within moments was shoving the hungry degenerates aside with his shoulders.

"Hey, you, sperm-toxicosis victim, get lost before your pearly white smile turns into a bloody mess," Arrek said with unmistakable menace, standing in front of the newcomer and glaring directly at the punk who thought he was a wolf.

"Oh! It turns out the bunny is already taken. What a shame," the tall guy sneered, and his friends immediately laughed.

"Why didn't you put a name tag on your bunny, Joss?" asked one of the sophomores, but for safety's sake, stepped back a couple of steps. "There's no sign on him saying he's yours."

"But he IS MINE," Arrek smirked, though his voice was steely. "So get your ugly faces out of here before I rearrange them."

"Joss, you understand what you're getting into, right?" asked the pimpled guy, cracking his knuckles.

He was significantly taller than Arrek and seemed infinitely proud of it.

"Of course, I understand," Arrek's smile widened. "And you understand that you won't lay a finger on me. You don't have the guts."

The skinny guy muttered several curses, but one of the others patted him on the shoulder.

"Leave them, Bailey," he said with a nasty grin. "We'll see how he sings when the seniors return. You remember that's tomorrow, right?"

Arrek stayed silent, glaring at the gathered idiots and clenching his fists tightly.

"Don't miss us, bunny," Bailey winked and seemed to lose all interest in Rika. "Let's go. Tomorrow he'll come crawling to us for comfort."

The guys laughed loudly and moved to the other end of the room, while Rika still pressed himself against the wall, peering out from behind Arrek's broad shoulder and not fully understanding what had just happened.

"Damn it, Rikald, learn to say 'NO'! Is that so hard?" Arrek hissed and, gripping his roommate's wrist tightly, pulled him back to the table where he had recently been engaged in a battle of wits with himself.

"They didn't even have time to propose anything yet," Rika tried to justify himself. "What was I supposed to refuse?"

"Everything," Arrek advised, packing up the chess pieces, having lost all interest in them. "Or better yet, punch them without any conversation."

"And get into a fight," Rikald muttered gloomily.

"At least you'd show them that you're not easy prey," Arrek insisted.

"So what could they have done to me?" Rika stubbornly stared at his roommate, indicating he could defend himself if real danger arose.

"They wouldn't have done anything," Arrek replied, "but the seniors..."

"Who are these seniors?" Rika frowned. "Graduate students?"

"Graduate students? Are you kidding me?" Arrek got annoyed at his roommate's ignorance. "Third-years. They've got nothing to lose. They're almost done with their education."

Rika's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't seen any third-years yet.

"Where are they now?"

"On break. Where else?" Arrek shook his head. "But don't worry, you'll meet them tomorrow. Just be prepared. Some of them have brains in their asses. But their dicks are in place, and they're constantly hard. They'll fuck anything that moves and doesn't resist. Like you."

Rika felt the blood slowly drain from his face. But he continued to put on a brave front:

"If someone tries to make me do something I don't want, I'll fight back."

"Like today?" Arrek smirked wryly. "Or will you wait until they pass you around?"

"What do you mean pass around?" Rika felt a dull needle of fear settle in his heart from his roommate's warnings.

"Where did this naive kid come from?" Arrek wondered sincerely. "Did you think they came to say hello? Or to give you a choice? Sure, there was a choice, but they'd choose who gets to fuck you first. Umino, you don't have much time to learn aggressive diplomacy. Better get your face beaten up than... well, you know what I mean."

Arrek sighed heavily.

"If the third-years take an interest in you, I won't be able to help you," he answered the unspoken question in Rika's eyes. "That doesn't mean I won't try. But understand, they'd smear me against the wall like a bug. These senior year freaks are evolutionary rejects. Against them, I'm like a puppy against a pack of wolves."

"So what do I do?" Rika asked anxiously. "If they'll crush you, they'll leave nothing of me. Or do you think my firm 'no' will save the situation? What if they hurt me? Or... Arrek!" Rika grabbed his roommate's arm and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. "What if they take revenge on me through my family? If they find my house and... do something to my sister?! She's just a kid and can't defend herself!"

Only now did Rika realize the seriousness of the situation he was in.

He could fight back all he wanted. He could carve that 'no' into every third-year's forehead. But any one of them could destroy him with one call to his loving dad.

"Wow, you're really panicking!" Arrek chuckled nervously and winced. Rika's grip was strong and quite painful. "Nothing will go beyond the academy grounds, don't worry. Think I haven't been harassed? I can tell you, to either reassure or upset you, depending on how you see it, that I have, and more than once. And I fought back. My face was black and blue for the first few days. But as you can see, they left me alone. Just don't lose heart and don't give in. We'll fight them off together."

"Make that three of us." Irman, who had sat down next to Rikald, clenched his bandaged hand into a fist and glanced toward the brazen sophomores. "I'd love to punch someone's arrogant face right now."

"What about Sadis's warning?" Arrek asked worriedly.

"In a general brawl, who's to blame?" Irman smirked. "We'll all get punished together, and that's less humiliating."

"And then get punished by Sadis?" Rika asked, groaning. "Are you guys kidding me? Maybe I should just agree to the orgy right away?"

"Umino, here, those who give in aren't even considered human," Irman said sternly. "Get that crap out of your head."

"I might as well throw myself out the window," Rika said gloomily, looking at the inky darkness that had fallen outside.

Tomorrow classes would start. And then he'd have to deal with the seniors, who would either rape him in some dark corner or beat him so badly he wouldn't be able to stand for a week.

What a cheerful prospect.

His mom had found the perfect way to punish him for everything he'd done. And if he got hurt or humiliated here, she'd probably be overjoyed.

"That's not a solution, buddy." Arrek put an arm around his utterly dejected roommate's shoulders and smiled kindly at him. "Sadis would hunt you down in the afterlife for jumping out the window."

He laughed when Rika's already pale face turned almost green. Then he said seriously:

"Stay close to us. We won't let them hurt you."

Irman nodded, confirming his words, and Arrek winked at his roommate.

"Let's go get some rest. Tomorrow will be a rough day. But if we get through it, there won't be any more problems."

Rika nodded gloomily and got up.

Arrek followed suit. Throwing an arm over his roommate's shoulders, he led him out of the common room, smirking nastily at Bailey, who was glaring at them with a look that promised nothing good for either of them.

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