[9] Reunion

1 (Fram Posid)

The first volume of my life closed when I was knocked out by a zero. A person without a level. The cursed defects of our world. Those who could not become stronger.

She was a stunning beauty. Hair of gold, pale eyes like the azure sky, and an expression that seemed to always retain its calmness. Her face, sculpted to perfection, matched well with her small, rosy, lips.

When she first stood before me, I thought her easy pickings. She looked so dainty as to be mistaken for a lone rose amidst a sea of weeds, after all.

I had hid my nervousness with overconfidence and thought it only fitting that besting someone 10 levels my junior was the way things would go.

Oh, how wrong was I.

The way she moved her body was unlike any zero I had ever seen. Slow, but affective. The way she wielded her weapon was crude, yes, definitely worse than mine, no doubt about it, but there was beauty in even that. Her fists themselves held some passion.

She did not beat me with neither speed nor strength but mere misdirection, a good mind for battle, and the know how to execute her thoughts. She won, fair and square in her own way.

"Jack," I told my friend once I awoke from my momentary concussion, "I found my true love. One day, I'm gonna marry that girl, I tell ya."

"You mean the one who knocked you out cold. . .?"

"You know it!" I grinned.

There was a hint of concern on his face and he stared at me like I was delusional and illusionary. As if I had suddenly become a ghost.

"Jack?"

Then, he smacked me cold.

"Go sleep some more and wake up with a better brain."

Those were the last words I heard as my vision blurred for the second time today.

2 (Alice)

For some reason, I shivered as soon as I stepped into the room. There was no draft as neither a window nor a door was open, but I shivered nonetheless.

I thought it odd but soon elected to ignore it at the sight of what I liked.

The dorm room was better than I expected. It was small and held only the necessities of daily living. A bed at the corner there, a desk next to it with a. . .lamp? Probably powered by a mana orb or something, those were the cliches after all.

On my immediate left was a closet, and to my immediate right was a small bathroom with both a toilet and a tub. Of course there was no shower, only a bucket next to the tub eluded to me that this was not to be an automatic process.

Oh well, I muttered, placing my suitcase next to the bed, my identification card—which now acted as the room key—upon the table, and hanging my uniform in the closet.

It was black and lined with gold. I had elected for one that  came with a skirt and what almost resembled biking shorts. Now this was elegant. Stylish and form fitting just for me.

I nodded to myself and opened the window to the room.

The breeze came and now I actually had a reason to shiver slightly.

The silver moon was already high in the sky—you wouldn't believe the forms I needed to fill, or the rule book I had acquired and quickly stuffed into my suitcase. All in all, the day was almost over.

A knock came from my door.

"Umm, hmm I just wanted to check—no no no—what if they think I'm a weirdo?"

Even before I reached the door, I could hear the murmurings of Shana behind it.

I swung the thing open and smiled as I looked up at her.

Her expression lit up and her stammering stopped as soon as she saw my face. She released a heavy sigh and all the tension disappeared from her body.

". . .what has you so worked up?" I asked.

"I was looking for you," She pouted, "All over the dormitory."

"Really? How'd you find me?"

A blush came upon her cheeks, "I. . .I kept knocking until I found the right room."

Oh?

"Must have been embarrassing each time you failed."

"Don't make me think about it!"

I laughed as she stepped into the room and I closed the door.

"Do you. . .do you like it here?" She asked me, sitting upon my bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I shrugged and sat upon the chair at the table.

"It certainly has that college feeling and the dorm room doesn't look half bad. If things are kept well on its course, our time here might actually be worthwhile. How about you?"

She smiled at my statement as if she were waiting for it, "Exactly! This place feels great! Like super duper cool! It has that fantasy feeling, you know? Oooh I saw a big arena on the way here and—and a few students greeted me for some reason?"

Oh there went her ramblings again. She tended to do that whenever she found something she really liked or whenever those few times cropped up where she could be herself the most.

"So you like it here?"

"So far. . ." She mumbled.

"I see~and what class are you going into?"

"Oh—." She jolted at those words, "Right. . ."

And quieted down after.

I furrowed my brows as I crossed my legs, "Is there a problem?"

"N-no, not something like that," She gave a hallow laugh, "But. . .umm. . .Mr. Mass said I'll be going into class 1?"

The classes in this school were based on might. They initially placed you in accordance with your level, but supposedly the teachers or staff could advocate for you to move up or down depending on how well you proved yourself.

There were a total of 10 classes. One being the best, meant for the gifted bunch, those rare gems, you know the deal, while 10 was for the absolute worst stones picked up from the side of the road. At least, that was how the jokester who made the student handbook explained things.

Essentially, however. . .

"You're nervous aren't you?" I chuckled.

"Just a bit, Okay!? How can't I be—they'll be staring at me won't they. . .? Hero and all?"

At her pout, I couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes her fretting was quite cute in its own odd, but unique way. She always reminded me of a rabbit to be protected or a buzzing bee at your side.

"Just do your best," I told her, "That's the only thing anyone can do, really. We may not always be at our best, but we can always do our best."

She nodded, "Thats true. That's true."

"What about you though?" She asked, "What class are you going into?"

I provided her my biggest grin.

"Alice Strong of Class 9, one from the bottom of the barrel, at your service."