, all in all its just another brick in.jpg
Of course! Survey the area! Gather intelligence on who your fellow detainees are!
When you're going to be stuck in a relatively confined space with a group of people for any length of time, it is always a good idea to determine whether any of them are likely to stab, shoot, burn, freeze, drown, crush, maul, dismember, or eat you.
Anything that was listed in that waiver you had to sign when you first enrolled in this school, basically.
First of all, there was the punk-looking girl. “Kijin” was it? You think you heard something about an armed insurrection she tried to get going one morning, but that was also the day they had Eggs Benedict in the cafeteria, so you weren't really paying attention. Why would you? You only ever saw Eggs Benedict in the cafeteria maybe once every few months, while student-led uprisings were practically a weekly occurrence.
One week it's the school marching band demanding new instruments, the next it's the marching band's instruments demanding new students to play them, and then there's always the fairies and whatever they've gotten themselves worked up and throwing chairs over.
Whatever insurance they've got on this place, you can only assume it is very, very good, and probably just as expensive.
In any case, in terms of sheer trouble-making, you doubt that was the primary reason for Kijin's apparent expulsion. What would do it, you suppose, would be the string of thefts that she was allegedly involved in a while ago. Supposedly, it wasn't just student lockers, but classrooms and offices that were having things going missing. While you didn't know exactly what was stolen, you count yourself as one of the lucky few to not have been struck, although you suspect you have those “security measures” Medi took the liberty of installing in your desk and locker to thank for that.
You can't deny feeling a little guilty about that, since you really should be the one looking out for her, but you were still happy to have her watching out for you. And to think, if it weren't for her spotting that suspicious-looking girl tampering with your locker that one time, and her telling you about it at dinner that night, her mother might never have suggested that your locker needed protecting!
Though you don't quite understand what Medi's mom was muttering about “harlots” after that, you're still happy that she cares so much for your well-being, and are truly grateful to have been taken in by such a warm and caring woman, even if she can be a little strange. Like that time you slipped and called her “mom” and she locked herself away in her room for the rest of the night. From the way her face turned purple, and smoke started coming out of her as she hurried out of the room, you were worried that you had made her angry, but the next day she acted as if nothing had happened. Strangely, it was also around that time that the lunches she packed for you began to drastically increase in size. This, she repeatedly assured you, was simply due to her accidentally cooking too much and not wanting any of it to go to waste.
Why she couldn't just put the extra food in the fridge, you had no idea, but you couldn't deny it was kinda cool to have a lunch box larger than your head. Tapping your foot against the side of the large container at your feet, you briefly wonder if you'll be allowed to eat outside, or at least near an open window when the time comes, but brush those thoughts aside in favor of resuming your survey of your fellow detainees.
There was the “Princess” of course. You never really had much reason to interact with Houraisan, but she seemed pleasant and harmless enough. Of course you knew about the rumors floating around about her and those disappearances from a while back, but you didn't really think there was much truth to them. Some claimed that anyone who tried to ask her out would vanish, never to be heard from again. Others made her out to be some sort of alien body-snatcher, abducting people and taking their place. Either way, she was made to sound like someone to be avoided.
That didn't stop the occasional guy from trying their luck and asking her out, of course. And, sure, you don't remember seeing any of them around after that, for some reason, but you don't see why she would necessarily be to blame for that. Perhaps they were all the type who don't take rejection well, and chose to remain home or transfer to another school rather than live with the humiliation?
Pretty silly if that's the case, you think. In a school where a not-insignificant portion of the student body can bench press a bus and may or may not have a taste for human flesh, some hurt pride is hardly the worst thing that a girl could to in turning you down.
In any case, while you weren't exactly on familiar terms with Houraisan, the girl seated a few rows back from her was an entirely different story. There, paradoxically clad in black leather, sunlight from the nearby window glinting off her tinted sunglasses, sat none other than Mystia “(Bird) Meat is Murder” Lorelei. To call the girl an “activist” would be akin to calling the time one of Satori's pets tried to cause a nuclear apocalypse because someone told her to “bring light to the world” a “simple misunderstanding”. While a school with as many different people from different walks of life naturally had its share of disagreements and conflicts, Lorelei took outrage to a whole new level, protesting more loudly and forcefully over any bird-related products used in the cafeteria's meals than any other individual or group was capable of, up to and including that time the human segment of the student body discovered exactly what the “pork” in the school's “pulled long pork” sandwiches was.
The fact that the sandwiches in question were actually quite tasty and popular, to the extent that even many human students continued to eat them even after the revelation, did no favors to that particular cause.
A few seats away from the egg-hating food terrorist and slightly behind you, sat the one you only knew as The Girl With No Head. While there were times she appeared as The Girl With A Head, this was clearly not one of those times, and since you never actually ever caught her name, you found it simpler to just refer to her by her head-having status. In the rare instances when the head was present but the body was missing, you referred to her as simply The Head. Generally quietly, if not silently, for fear that she might hear you.
Though you didn't like to judge others by their appearances, The Head struck you very much as a biter, and not just because that was clearly her only means of attack in that state. Mostly, it was because of that, sure. But not just because of that.
Getting bitten sucks, even when it doesn't come with the risk of being turned into a flesh-hungry or blood-thirsty monster.
And on that note... you think to yourself, looking over at the farthest corner of the room. Seated as far as she could get from the sunlight streaming in through the window, black wings drooping as she miserably holds her head in her hands, sat the blonde girl whose name continues to elude you despite all the times she's joined you for lunch recently.
Whatever it was, the fact that you were hardly the only one in the school to not remember her name both lessened your sense of guilt, and served as sad proof of the girl's complete lack of presence or charisma despite her claims of being a vampire.
Remilia Scarlet, she most certainly was not.
Then again, that was likely for the best. One of her was more than enough for most, as it is.
Still, it made you wonder. While one vampire lived a life of wealth and luxury, to the point that she personally funded an expansion to the school that was larger than the entire original building just so she could name it herself or have it named after her, this one seemed absolutely destitute. Instead of having servants tending to her every whim, she seemed to be the one doing the serving, following Yuuka Kazami around like a sad puppy and doing pretty much anything she was told to do.
You wouldn't be surprised if it was actually Yuuka who was supposed to be in that seat, and poor Kurumu or whatever her name was made to come in her place.
Truly, the world was a cruel and unfair place, sometimes. And school? Even more so.
As you continued to look over the classroom, you slowly became aware that you were not the only one checking out your surroundings, and as your eyes passed over your fellow students, you began to notice some of their eyes falling upon you.
In the very back row, directly behind you, an angel-winged girl scowls in your direction. Taking a few seconds too many to realize you were looking back at her, she suddenly sticks her tongue out at you before turning towards her sister, the maid enthusiast, who seemed to be completely absorbed in a magazine she was reading. As the winged girl poked and prodded at her sibling, seemingly trying to get her to notice you were there, you couldn't help but wonder what the magazine she was reading was about. The text was in some language you didn't recognize, but you suspected that it involved maids, swords, or maids with swords in some fashion, if the woman pictured on the cover was any indication.
Of course, you also had to wonder if it was okay to even read magazines like that in detention, but if the giant robotic eyeball watching over you wasn't going to say anything about it, you certainly weren't, either.
Figuring it was best to keep your eyes from lingering too long, you pry your gaze away from the twins and return to looking around the classroom.
The “princess” who, by her own admission, didn't really belong in detention.
The punk-looking girl who absolutely belonged in detention, if not jail.
The egg-hating harpy for whom the only regret you feel at her being in detention is that you're stuck in it with her.
The pitiful vampire who was only being punished on account of someone who actually deserved it.
The brat who deserved to be punished, and her not-as-bad sister who also technically deserved it but maybe not as much.
And then, of course, there was...
Your eyes meet, and your blood goes cold.
Why is she here? you think to yourself.
Why is it here?
It didn't belong here.
You knew it.
From the look in her eyes, it knew it as well.
It didn't belong here.
Not just here, but HERE.
You don't know how you know it, but you know
You know, but does it?
It does not.
You can tell from the way she, no, it. It looks around the room.
Red eyes flicking from student to student, pausing on some longer than others.
Threats. Allies. Potential avenues of escape, and angles of attack.
She was like a soldier who found herself alone in enemy territory.
A lost little rabbit in a den of wolves.
Truly, she did not belong here, and she knew it.
And so did you.
Her eyes were but one clue that gave her away.
Red and shining, like you only saw on your trips to the infirmary.
There ears, though?
Those were a dead giveaway.
Though hardly as worn or crumpled as the kindly nurse's could be, the floppy ears sprouting out of that head of blue hair were unmistakable, and left little doubt in your mind as to who and what you were looking at.
No mere rabbit, of course.
Not one from this place, but from the other place.
A place so similar, and yet so vastly different from the one you knew.
A place where for the lofty and powerful, who look down upon those outside with disdain, convinced of their own superiority.
She came from the private school.
A surge of emotions threaten to overwhelm you, some rational while others were not.
Realizing it would do little good to get yourself so riled up, you turn back and gaze down at your desk, taking slow, deep breathes in an attempt to calm yourself down.
That's right, you needed to keep your cool.
You had a long day ahead of you, after all, and dwelling on the negative would only serve to make it feel longer than it was.
You were going to get through this, one way other another.
The only question was, how...
[ ] Ignore the others. Focus only on whatever you can do yourself to pass the time.
[ ] Engage in some of that “conversation with fellow detainees” business the giant scary eyeball robot mentioned to pass the time.
[ ] Attempt to skip out of this whole ordeal, it's pretty much a waste of time anyway.