Arya peered down at the massive crowd of people in the hall below, biting her lip as she did so. There were far too many people to slip past undetected. It was some sort of welcome party, though not many people were partying. Jake had called it 'Orientation' and said she probably didn't need to go to it since he'd be more than happy to show a fellow troublemaker around the school. Still, she needed to get her timetable and her welcome pack, though Arya had a feeling it'd be anything but welcoming.

"You don't have to, you know," Jake said, staring down at the people crowding in the hall below. "You can chill with me and Lyd for a bit longer."

"But I kinda need to get my timetable... and figure out where exactly I'm going to be sleeping for the rest of the year." She folded her arms.

Jake blinked. "Oh yeah..."

"You didn't think about that?" Arya asked, eyeing her newfound companion curiously.

He grinned. "Nope."

She shook her head, a small grin pulling at her lips. Jake was a bit of an idiot, but then Arya couldn't really judge.

She had her idiotic moments too.

"But before we throw ourselves to the wolves, can I ask you something?" He turned to her, the smile dropping from his face, his fingers brushing against the cross hanging from around her neck. "Where did you get this from?"

"Oh," Arya smiled wistfully, fighting back the tears that always threatened whenever she thought about him. "This... this was a gift... from a monk who stayed at our church for a few years."

His eyes narrowed. "I see," he mumbled, hope flittering across his face. "Do you know where he is now?"

She inhaled sharply, clamping her lips shut, turning back to the hall below. "I think it's about time I went and grabbed my welcome pack," she said, leaping down without a care in the world. Her landing was silent, few people stopping to stare at her as she seamlessly blended into a nearby huddle of other teens her age.

Jake followed her like a shadow. "Well," he said, his bright smile back in place. "I think it's about time I gave myself up too. Otherwise they'll nab me before I go to sleep, and that'll be annoying."

"Good for you?" she said, unsure as to what else to say.

Jake chuckled. "Thanks, Ari."

"Umm... before we go over there... do you mind if ask you something too?" she mumbled, biting her lip as she tried to gather up the courage to ask him face to face.

"Sure thing."

He didn't seem annoyed by her own avoidance of his question, and that only cemented the fact she wanted to ask him... "Willyoubemyfriend?"

"What?" He blinked.

Arya blushed, her face a bright tomato red. "Will you be my friend?" she asked, shuffling her feet as she stared at the ground.

The silence was thick between them, nervousness making her chew at her lip. Would he accept her? Or would he laugh at her and call her pathetic?

Just like her.

"How pathetic can you be—?"

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, yanking her out of her thoughts, a blinding smile lighting up his face. "Of course, silly," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I don't mind... you seem pretty cool."

Her lips broke into a smile. "My first friend..." she mumbled, pressing her fingers together, warmth building in her chest.

"First friend?" he asked, confusion written across his face. "Wait, don't tell me you've never had a friend before? You're fifteen!"

"Problem?" She bit her lip, the words coming out harsher than she'd intended. Did he not want to be friends with someone as pathetic as her?

"I guess I'm going to have to introduce you to the wonderful world of friendship and rainbows," he said, leading her towards the desk where a white coated figure waited. "Ah..." His feet skidded to a stop, eyes narrowing on the blonde waiting by the desk. "Actually, you know what—"

He was tackled in a flash of black. "Kyah!" Legs locked around his waist, arms locking themselves around his neck. "Don't even think about trying to escape, dammit," the brunette hissed, his black coat flying about as Jake tried to buck him off.

"I'm—mph—not a horse!" Jake hissed. "Get off."

"Never!"

"Dean," a new voice sounded. "Down."

Arya turned to face the newcomer and promptly froze. Eyes of the darkest grey glared at her friend, a hand clamped around Jake's arm – and Arya just knew it wouldn't be letting go anytime soon. She edged away quietly, watching all the while as the brunette leapt down, praying she didn't catch their attention.

They were downright scary.

And quite probably part of the Disciplinary Committee, if the thin gold armbands pinned to the sleeve of their coats were any indicator.

So all Arya did was watch as Dean vanished back into the crowd, and Jake was escorted out by the other whose long black hair swished out behind him dramatically.

Quietly, she thought it was unfair.

He could pull off the ponytail look better than her.

Sighing, she wandered up to the desk, stiffening as a pair of eyes locked on her. Thankfully they didn't belong to the scary guy who'd dragged Jake away. Instead she was left looking up at a slightly less intimidating blonde.

Large brown eyes peered down at her, framed by long blonde lashes which looked far too feminine. Arya could safely say she looked down to check it really was a boy she was staring at – it was. His shoulders were broad, silver armband wrapped around his sleeve, the white coat he wore belted at the waist, flaring out behind him. It was the same coat Thomas wore, so she assumed it was part of the uniform.

Especially seeing as how the scary guy who'd pulled Jake away was wearing a black version of it.

Briefly, she wondered if she'd have to join the Disciplinary Committee to get her hands on one, or whether it'd be possible to purloin one from whatever storage shed they'd come from.

"Are you Arya Cross?" the blonde spoke, staring down at her curiously.

"It depends on who's asking," she said, stepping back, snatching the last little welcome pack left on the desk.

"So you are," he mumbled, snagging the back of her dress before she could run. "I'll need you to come with me please."

"Umm... No thank you?"

"You're Arya Cross—"

"What gave it away?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'd never forget a face."

"Neither do I, but I'd be happy to make an exception in your case."

"Come on." He sighed, dragging her out of the room. "There are some things we need to discuss in my office."

"You have an office?"

As it turned out, he did – one with a neat little plaque declaring...

Flynn Grayson,

Head of the White Division,

Commander of the Disciplinary Committee.

In other words, she was doomed.

He held the door open, ushering her inside the scary-looking office. She went quietly, her eyes wandering around the place. It was light and airy, the window wedged open slightly, a small breeze fluttering past the white curtains. The walls variated between pale grey pattered wallpaper and a simple white paint – a sharp contrast to the only other office she'd been in before... but then again it had belonged to a priest, and they tended to be rather scant with decoration.

Flynn shut the door behind him, the small click having a sense of finality.

She was trapped.

Arya breathed deeply, quietly reminding herself that no, she wasn't there.

"Have a seat, Arya..." she purred, twirling a lock of her black hair around her finger, yanking on it sharply. "And tell me... What fun should we have today?"

"Take a seat." The voice pulled her out of the memories threatening to overwhelm her.

Arya shook her head, pushing away the nervousness knotting in the pit of her stomach, shuffling away from the plain white chair opposite the desk. "I'd rather stand." She wandered over to the mantlepiece, eyeing up on of the framed pictures standing on it to occupy her thoughts.

Anything was better than remembering that.

"Are you like... the teacher in charge of the Disciplinary Committee or something?" she asked, casting a glance his way. He looked far too young – late teens, early twenties at the most.

"You didn't read the handbook, did you?" He folded his arms, looking pointedly at the chair in front of him as he took a seat behind his gigantic desk stacked full of paperwork.

"Is it really that obvious?"

Flynn shook his head, sighing deeply. "I'm only nineteen, and I'm in my fifth year here," he said, "but I am one of the ones in charge of the Disciplinary Committee."

"A Commander, eh?"

He smiled. "There are four of us, and together we're in charge of discipline here. It gives us more training and experience." He shrugged. "We're more likely to be scouted for an Officer Rank compared to the rest of the school when we join the battlefront."

Arya stared at the photo, almost crushing it under her grip as she remembered the entire purpose of the school... what her purpose would be after she finished her seven years of training.

She'd be heading north.

To Grisha.

The battlefront, against an enemy she'd only heard whispers about.

They might even be like her.

She chased the memories away, fixing her attention firmly on the picture in the frame creaking under her tightening hold. It was like her lifeline in the office, keeping the thoughts of her safely at bay as she focused on all the faces she could see peering back out at her.

"Why were you late today?" Flynn finally asked, getting to the heart of the matter in seconds. "It hasn't exactly given us the best impression of you."

Arya shrugged. "I misjudged the time it'd take to get past all the traffic," she said, concentrating on her breathing.

Deep breaths.

She couldn't afford to lose control there.

She didn't need everyone avoiding her, calling her a weirdo or a scaredy cat. She didn't want to be alone. Not again.

She always used to come when she was alone.

"I see," he mumbled. "So this was just a onetime thing?"

Arya nodded.

"OK." Flynn nodded, handing her a thin little silver slip. "I'll let you off with a warning this time."

"Um... Thank you," she said, blinking as he wandered over to her side.

"I think it's time you got back to Orientation," he said, prying the photo frame out of her hands. "Come on."

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the photo.

"A photograph." Flynn stared at her flatly.

Arya scowled. "I meant what was in it."

"People."

"I mean..." she said carefully, enunciating every word. "Who are those people?"

"The Disciplinary Committee from last year."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why aren't there any girls?"

She wanted a nice coat, dammit.

"You're a nosey little thing, aren't you?"

"Did you just call me a little thing?" she asked, supressing the overwhelming urge to strangle the blonde in front of her.

A smile curved at his lips. "Let's just say there seems to be a curse on any girl who joins the Disciplinary Committee."

"Is that another way of saying you're all misogynists?"

"Calm down, won't you, shortie?"

Arya growled.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was riling her up.

She didn't want to get into that much trouble with the Disciplinary Committee on her first day though, seeing as how she'd gotten off with only a warning from her last offence. So she didn't really want to get dragged off to wherever Jake had... which meant she couldn't attempt to murder the Disciplinary Committee Commander in front of her.

"I'll—I'll deck you in a minute if you don't shut up!" she spat, going for the least life threatening option.

She didn't want to meet the scary-faced guy anytime soon.

Flynn snorted, his hand swiping through the air above her head, ruffling up her hair in mere moments. "As if you could manage that, Fian—" His voice cut out halfway, a choked sound making Arya stare at him in confusion.

"What?" she grumbled, shifting at the oddly distant look in his eye as he ruffled her hair once more.

He tucked his hands into his pockets, resuming the trek back to the hall he'd nabbed her from earlier. "Come on, shortie. You've got things to do."

Arya lunged for him.

Flynn laughed, darting away from each of her attempts to tackle him.

"Stay still, dammit!"

He didn't listen. Instead, he just continued to dodge with alarming ease, staring down at her fondly all the while. "You're too much like him..."

Scowling, she gave up, falling in step beside him as she followed him back to the hall. "Where's Jake? Is he OK?" she asked, silently wondering about the whereabouts of her only friend.

"He should be fine."

One finely trimmed black eyebrow arched. "Should?"

"Shortie," he said, and Arya ignored him. "He's alive, and that's all that matters, right?"

"Still alive to lick your wounds at the end of the day," she said, a wide grin stretching at her lips. "That's all that matters to me, Sweet Little Arya..."

Her hand shot out, tugging at Flynn's sleeve, focusing on the feel of the soft fabric and the warmth she could feel radiating from him.

She wasn't there.

She was safe.

"I... suppose..." she mumbled, forcing the words out. "But seriously, where is he?"

"He's probably getting chewed out by Dean," he said, glancing at the hand wrapped around his wrist. "Depending on what he says, or does, he might end up spending the night in one of the Black Division's holding cells."

"I've asked Jake this before, but why the hell are there holding cells in a school?" Arya stared at him. "And what exactly is the Black Division?"

"Again... you really didn't read the handbook before you applied, did you?"

She stared at the ground, a small smile tugging at her lips as Flynn grabbed her own wrist, pulling her along behind him. "Father Gregory just told me I was going to Riverdale High. He didn't tell me anything about this place, apart from the fact it's a boarding school."

"Father?" He glanced at her again, eyes straying to the cross dangling from her neck. "You're a daughter of the Church, aren't you?"

"What gave it away?"

"I suppose I'd best give you a bit of advice then," he said, ushering her through the door leading back to the noisy hall. "If you want to keep wearing that necklace, I suggest you keep it under your shirt."

Green eyes narrowed on his warm brown ones. "Why?"

"The silver cross..." Flynn said, closing his eyes. "A sign of them..." he whispered so quietly, Arya barely heard. "Most of the people attending this school aren't overly fond of the symbol."