Not Everyone Stands at the Same Starting Line
In a way, it was the kind of mindset you’d expect from the protagonist. ‘Good intentions, sure, but…’ The small problem was that an unwilling sacrifice—me—had been dragged into the process. The guy didn’t seem to have considered for a second that I might hate academy life.
Kair sat with his arms crossed and legs elegantly folded, wearing that composed expression of his. I couldn’t bring myself to snap at him outright, so I tried to phrase it gently.
“So you just hauled a perfectly fine working person all the way here?”
When I made my dislike obvious, the composed look cracked. He pressed his lips together and turned his gaze away. In those uneasy eyes that seemed to be spinning with frantic thoughts, Kair still opened his mouth, stumbling over his first words.
“B-but still, you’ll get a proper education out of this, and maybe pick up something useful, right?”
“Good grief…”
He’d dragged me here out of pure selfishness, then tried to wrap it all up in fancy packaging like “education” to make me accept it. If he’d just stayed quiet, I wouldn’t even resent him this much. What was done was done, so I let out a hollow sigh and looked straight at him. I had zero interest in the education part, but there was one thing I could gain from the academy—items, of course, not knowledge.
Under the dim lighting that gave the hall a faintly solemn atmosphere, an elderly man with white hair walked up to the podium on the first floor and straightened his back.
“Silence.”
The distance made him hard to see clearly, but his voice rang out distinctly across the entire auditorium. Those two heavy syllables filled the space. The previously noisy first floor fell silent in an instant, and the quiet spread to the whole hall. For a few seconds, it felt as though time itself had been stretched. Then a deep, weighty voice continued.
“Everyone.”
From there, the speech turned long and painfully cliché. Welcome to Astra Academy. This is a place of learning open to all citizens of the royal capital. Of course, not everyone stands at the same starting line. Some of you may have already built solid foundations, while others are only now taking their first steps. But there is no need to worry. Those who put in the effort will be given the chance to shine in their own place, in proportion to that effort. Do your best to learn and grow in your respective positions. All experiences here are yours alone, and all growth is your own responsibility. Do not waste your time at the academy—find your path, focus on your studies, and take as much as you can from this place.
‘That speech has thorns in it.’
If I’d been staring at a screen and keyboard, I probably would’ve skimmed right past those lines without a second thought. The speech claimed that under the name of “student,” everyone was equal… yet it also said not everyone stood at the “same starting line,” and that one could only shine from their “given place.” Those few sentences laid bare the reality of this world.
The students in uniform on the second floor, looking down at the students without uniforms on the first floor. It might have been an overinterpretation, but the intent was clearly there.
“Then, to avoid congestion while the second-floor students exit, please have the first-floor students wait quietly for a moment.”
After finishing the entrance ceremony speech, the elderly man who appeared to be the headmaster instructed the first-floor students to remain seated until the second-floor students had left, then walked out himself. Cancel the overinterpretation remark. This wasn’t subtle or unconscious discrimination—it was practically half out in the open. The stated reason was to prevent congestion, but given the context, it looked more like they were making sure the noble students wouldn’t be inconvenienced. Logically speaking, who would clear out faster—the people on the first floor, or the second-floor students who had to use the stairs?
I left the auditorium along with the orderly line of uniformed students. That was how I ended up taking my first step into the time of finding our respective classrooms. Now that I thought about it, it really was strange. I turned to Kair, who was walking beside me.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Huh?”
When I pointed at myself and asked those three short words, he let out a confused sound and stared at me with wide, round eyes. Even though he looked like he was wondering why I’d ask something so obvious, I didn’t care and pointed at myself again with a straight finger. I might have been wearing the uniform, but I wasn’t a noble or from a wealthy family. The only notable thing about me was that I’d just stepped into the mercenary world—and even that was only because of connections and a parachute landing. I had no idea whether I was supposed to attend classes in the main academy building or head to some rundown building farther away. The notice hadn’t included those kinds of details anyway.
“What are you talking about? Where else would you go but here?”
‘What the hell is he saying now?’
Kair pointed at the pristine corridor of the main building and asked if there was anywhere else I could possibly go, looking at me like I was the weird one. His calm answer left me momentarily speechless, and the finger I’d been pointing with curled slightly. After not seeing people for a year, I must have been misunderstanding something… I pointed out the part he was taking for granted.
“Of course you belong here. I’m asking where I go.”
“Ah, that…? Follow me.”
He let out a short, exasperated sigh, as if he’d finally understood the intent behind my question, then told me to follow and quickened his pace. Listening to the irregular sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor, we passed by classrooms that all looked identical. The place we arrived at was just another classroom, distinguishable only by the number on the sign above the door. Inside was a semicircular, tiered arrangement. The desks were a single, antique dark-brown piece with a slight curve, paired with separate chairs. It was the kind of place that made you think someone had spent a decent amount of money on it. I followed Kair inside without hesitation.
Before heading to his seat, Kair checked the teacher’s desk first.
“I heard we’re supposed to check our seats here and then go sit down.”
A large floor plan of the classroom lay on the desk. As I scanned the names scribbled haphazardly at each seat, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Among the unfamiliar names, I spotted my own single-character name—and Kair’s name was there too. Same class, even. Was this also the power of connections and parachute admissions? Still, there seemed to be limits; our seats were placed quite far apart. Just as I was about to head to my seat, thinking at least I’d be away from this guy…
“Before you go, a moment.”
“Yeah?”
This time, he was the one who called me over. He walked first to a quiet corner of the classroom where students wouldn’t pass by and block traffic. I followed, not knowing why, and once we were there, Kair glanced around cautiously before lowering his voice.
“Just in case—don’t talk about working as a mercenary outside or anything that might reveal your status.”
He was giving me advice about not mentioning anything that could expose my background. It was something I’d already been mindful of. The insane idea of never talking to anyone wasn’t a real solution. In a place with this many people, there would inevitably come a time when I’d have to communicate, whether I liked it or not. I answered, showing that I understood his concern.
“I get what you mean.”
“Yeah. If the topic of family ever comes up… just say it’s hard to talk about. People will assume you have some story or that you’re from a lower noble house.”
After hearing my answer, Kair offered a model response for when family came up in conversation. Maybe because it was advice coming from someone born into a good family, it felt oddly trustworthy. Perhaps my subconscious acceptance of him as the protagonist was adding credibility to it. Still, if someone was a high-ranking noble with enough influence to affect the school, it wouldn’t be strange for them to be steeped in classist thinking… yet Kair’s attitude didn’t seem to place much weight on noble versus commoner distinctions.
“Well then, I’ll head over first… Watch what you say, word by word.”
Though I’d grown a little curious about the reason, he gave his advice and returned to his seat before I could ask. ‘Well, what could possibly happen?’ With that thought, I shrugged my shoulders for no reason and moved to find my own seat, just like Kair had.
As long as I didn’t go around striking up pointless conversations, there probably wouldn’t be any need to talk about family or hobbies. I stepped one tier at a time, crossing the empty spaces between the tiered seats. The seat where my name had been written on the floor plan. I sat down at the long desk that acted like a shield completely covering my lower body, tucking my bag into the spacious storage space underneath…
The seats that had been sparsely empty began to fill one by one with students in uniform. Seats in front, behind, left, and right all started to fill. The seating didn’t seem to be divided by gender—it felt completely random. When a guy sat to my left, I tried to relax a little, only for a girl to sit on my right and make me tense up again. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, pretending not to be conscious of my surroundings, and focused only on my own things. Playing the part of a diligent student, I placed the textbook—which also served as a regular book—on my desk and glanced briefly to both sides out of unnecessary tension.
‘Ah.’
By chance, my eyes met those of the female student on my right. She had green eyes similar to mine and long, wavy golden hair. Instead of speaking, she gave me a slight smile and tilted her head toward me. I responded with a small nod of my own. Even though I knew that smile was just for show, it still made me oddly nervous. Don’t forget—you have Rein. If I messed up, I really might get beaten to death.