Grenzabell stepped into Class Delta. The room was rough, desks cracked, chairs uneven, yet laughter filled the air like none of it mattered. Students talked freely, some joking, some relaxed in ways the other classes never were.
He walked quietly and sat in the second corner row beside Dawncer and Fally, placing the bag of food on the desk.
Fally leaned closer, worry in her eyes. "What happened to you?"
Grenzabell paused, gripping the bag slightly.
"…Nothing much."
Victoria Yun Gloom entered the class, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She wore black pants, polished shoes, a white overcoat draped cleanly over a red shirt, her presence alone enough to silence the room.
The laughter died instantly.
Everyone straightened.
Her gaze swept across them, cold and measuring.
"As your class teacher," she said flatly, "you've all disappointed me."
Her eyes drifted to the far corner.
Grenzabell.
She sighed.
Disappointed.
Then she turned to the board.
"Today, I'll be teaching you how to use Blessed energy."
Murmurs rose.
A red-haired girl in the corner raised her hand. "Commander Gareth called it Fallless energy."
Victoria didn't turn.
"The name doesn't matter," she said calmly. "But fine… we'll call it Fallless energy."
Victoria's voice filled the classroom as she continued writing on the board, explaining how Fallless energy flowed through intent rather than force, how it responded to emotion before technique, and how control was the only thing separating power from collapse.
Her tone was precise, but increasingly sharp as she noticed movement in the corner.
Grenzabell wasn't focusing.
His eyes drifted. His posture was loose. His attention clearly elsewhere.
"Grenzabell."
Her voice cut through the room like glass.
No response.
"Grenzabell."
This time louder.
He finally looked up.
Victoria's expression hardened.
"Stand up."
A pause settled across the room.
"You find my lessons boring," she said coldly, already knowing the answer, "so go to the office. You'll continue your education there."
Grenzabell blinked, then slowly stood, scratching the back of his head as if it wasn't fully real.
Across the room, Dawncer pushed his chair back abruptly.
"Wait, that's unnecessary , he just.."
Victoria didn't even look at him.
"Sit down."
Dawncer froze.
The words carried no room for argument.
He hesitated, then slowly sat back down, jaw tight.
The class stayed silent.
All eyes followed Grenzabell as he walked toward the door, his steps unhurried, almost indifferent.
But the weight of every gaze in the room made it heavier than it looked.
Even Fally didn't speak.
The door closed behind him softly.
And the lesson continued, but no one was really listening anymore.
Grenzabell walked through the corridor alone, the academy noise folding around him like distant weather.
Gareth's words kept circling in his mind.
You should probably find some purpose…
He frowned slightly, eyes lowering.
Purpose.
He didn't really know what that meant. Not in the way Gareth said it.
Like that kid with a weird philosophy…
A faint exhale left him. Almost a laugh, but not quite.
Weird philosophy… maybe that fit too well.
He adjusted his grip on his bag.
But it matters what you do with that knowledge.
That part lingered longer.
Not heavy. Not clear.
Just… sticking.
Grenzabell glanced ahead toward the classroom doors.
"I guess…" he muttered under his breath, "I'm still figuring that out."
Then he kept walking.
The office was quiet in a way that felt heavier than the classroom.
Grenzabell sat in a chair near the desk, head lowered, hands resting loosely in his lap. He hadn't moved much since arriving. Time passed, but he didn't seem to follow it properly, like his thoughts were somewhere else entirely, scattered and uncollected.
The door opened.
Victoria Yun Gloom stepped in.
Her eyes landed on him instantly.
Still sitting.
Still lost.
A small pause.
Then she walked straight up to him and slapped the top of his head without hesitation.
A sharp, clean hit.
Grenzabell flinched, straightening immediately as if reality snapped back into place. His eyes lifted, slightly confused at first, then focused.
When he saw it was her, his expression eased a little, tension dropping from his shoulders.
"…Teacher," he said slowly, rubbing his head. "Why did you hit me?"
Victoria didn't even look at him at first.
She walked past him, sat behind her desk, and leaned back slightly as if the entire situation was already decided long before she entered the room.
"You needed that," she said flatly.
A pause followed.
Then, without raising her voice, she added, "What's wrong with you?"
The tone wasn't curiosity.
It was irritation disguised as observation.
Grenzabell stayed quiet for a moment, eyes lowered again, like he was trying to find an answer that wouldn't get him hit again or misunderstood.
"…Nothing," he said at last.
That single word seemed to shift something in the room.
Victoria's gaze sharpened.
For a moment, the mask she wore as a teacher slipped just slightly, revealing something colder underneath.
She exhaled through her nose, annoyed rather than amused now.
"Then you're suspended."
The words dropped cleanly.
Final. Unquestioned.
Grenzabell froze.
"…What?"
He blinked once, as if he hadn't processed it properly.
"You can't just , why?" he asked, voice finally tightening with confusion. "What made you go this far?"
Grenzabell's expression shifted slowly, the disappointment settling deeper into something sharper, more personal. He stared at her for a moment longer, then finally spoke, voice tightening with frustration.
"Why are you such a bad teacher?"
The words hit the room differently than either of them expected.
Victoria didn't answer immediately.
Her body went still.
Her gaze dropped slightly, not at him, but through him, as if something behind his question had opened a door she didn't want to see again.
For a brief moment, the authority in her posture weakened.
Grenzabell noticed it.
His eyes drifted across her desk.
Books.
Stacked neatly, but worn at the edges as if they had been opened and closed too many times without resolution.
One read, How to Be a Good Teacher.
Another, smaller, sat beneath it, titled How to Be a Good Person.
The sight lingered longer than it should have.
Victoria exhaled slowly, something quieter replacing her earlier sharpness.
"…Do you know," she asked, voice lower now, "how much your words can hurt someone?"
The question wasn't aimed at him like a punishment.
It was something heavier.
Personal.
Grenzabell hesitated.
"…Sorry," he said, softer now.
Victoria closed her eyes for a moment.
Then, without looking at him again, she spoke.
"Leave."
No anger.
No explanation.
Just distance.
Grenzabell stood there for a second longer, then turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him.
Silence returned to the office.
Victoria remained still.
Alone again.
Her eyes shifted slowly toward the corner of the room, where the light from a half-open drawer reflected faintly.
And in that reflection… another image surfaced in her mind.
A hospital bed.
A red-haired girl.
Weak smile.
Barely there.
Fragile in a way that didn't need words to understand.
Victoria didn't move.
But something inside her did.
Quiet.
And heavy.
The roof was still damp from earlier rain, stone darkened and cold underfoot.
Grenzabell stood near the edge, fist slamming into the wall again and again, each impact duller than the frustration behind it. His knuckles were already bruised, but he didn't stop, like pain was the only language that made sense right now.
Footsteps behind him.
He didn't turn.
"I knew you'd be here," Thyssara said quietly. "You're always here."
"Shut up," Grenzabell snapped without looking back. "I don't need you. I don't need anyone around me right now."
A pause.
Thyssara exhaled through her nose, almost tired of this pattern.
"…I don't want to beat you," she said calmly. "But I think that's the only way you'll listen today."
She stepped forward and dropped into a stance.
Grenzabell finally turned, frustration burning in his eyes.
"Stop," he said sharply. "I don't like fighting my friends."
Thyssara didn't move away.
Instead, she walked right up to him and flicked his forehead.
Hard enough to sting, soft enough to ground him.
"Then stop acting like this," she said. "Let's be heroes, Grenzabell. After we finish this school… let's save people."
Grenzabell froze slightly at the word.
Then his expression tightened.
"…Why?" he asked, voice lower now. "Why should I help anyone?"
His eyes hardened.
"No one helped us when we were slaves."
A pause.
"We suffered. We survived on our own."
He clenched his fist again, but this time not from anger at others.
At everything.
"People in Delta don't deserve that," he continued. "No one does."
Thyssara studied him for a moment.
Then asked quietly, "Then why did Gareth help us?"
Grenzabell frowned slightly.
Thyssara's gaze didn't waver.
"You might not know this… but he allowed the masked ones to take almost all the other slaves."
Silence hit the roof harder than wind.
Grenzabell's eyes narrowed immediately.
"…What?"
Thyssara continued, voice steady.
"He knew they'd be safer there. Not tortured. Not worked to death like in the Kingdom of Dawn's military camps."
Grenzabell stared at her, searching for any hesitation, any crack.
"…How do you know that?" he asked.
Thyssara closed one eye slightly.
"…It's a secret."
The wind picked up between them.
Grenzabell looked away, jaw tight.
"I still won't be a hero," he said quietly. "I hate that philosophy."
A long silence followed.
Then Grenzabell spoke again, softer, but sharper in meaning.
"…What face would Gareth make if he heard me say that?"
Thyssara didn't hesitate.
Grenzabell didn't either.
Both of them spoke at the same time.
"He'd be disappointed."
The words lingered in the cold air, heavier than the sky above them, as if the roof itself had gone quiet to listen.
Grenzabell let out a short laugh on the rooftop, the tension in his shoulders finally breaking loose for a moment like a snapped thread that had been pulling too long.
"Disappointed, huh…" he muttered, shaking his head as if the idea itself was ridiculous now.
He turned to Thyssara, his expression lighter than before, and bumped her fist gently.
"Thanks," he said simply.
Then he exhaled.
"I need to do something."
He left without waiting for a reply.
---
The hallway outside Victoria Yun Gloom's office felt different at this hour. Quieter. Heavier. Like even the walls expected confrontation.
Grenzabell stopped in front of the door.
For a moment, he didn't move.
His hand hovered slightly.
A breath in.
A breath out.
Then he knocked.
And entered.
Victoria stood by the window, looking out at the vast academy grounds stretched beneath the sky. She didn't turn immediately when he entered, as if she already knew who it was.
"Ma'am…" Grenzabell said carefully. "I'm here to talk for a while."
Only then did she glance back.
He stepped further inside, gathering his words.
"I thought about what I said earlier," he continued. "About you being a bad teacher."
A pause.
"I want to apologize."
His voice steadied as he spoke, like he had rehearsed it in his mind on the way here.
"You're actually a great teacher."
He nodded slightly, convincing himself as much as her.
"I've heard that the strictest teachers are the ones who love their students the most."
His eyes lifted to hers.
"And you being strict… must mean you love me a lot."
The words hung for a second longer than they should have.
Grenzabell didn't look away.
"I shouldn't have disrespected you. I deserve punishment for that."
He lowered his head slightly.
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
Silence.
Victoria turned slowly.
She looked at him for a long moment, studying him like he was a contradiction she hadn't fully decoded yet.
"…I'm surprised," she said at last, voice softer than before. "You're more mature than I expected."
Grenzabell blinked slightly.
Then, for the first time, Victoria's expression shifted.
A small smile.
Controlled, faint, but real.
"I forgive you," she said. "And honestly… I needed that insult more than you think."
Grenzabell froze for a moment.
Then his shoulders relaxed.
A smile returned to his face, lighter now, almost relieved.
He bowed slightly.
"Thank you, ma'am."
As he turned to leave, he lifted a hand in a casual wave without looking back.
"I'll try," he said over his shoulder, voice bright again, "to be your best student of all time."
The door closed behind him.
Victoria remained by the window for a moment longer, the faint smile still lingering as she watched the academy below… as if something inside her had shifted, just slightly, for the first time in a long while.