Note: Do not take this fic overly serious. I'm writing purely for the fun of it to see how well I can write. Do be nice with your comments.
--- Minamiya's Shenanigans ---
Sunlight filtered through the edges of the tall curtains, casting golden stripes of light over the bed.
It was the kind of light that didn't ask for permission, simply arriving, settling everywhere, unapologetically warm.
Especially on his skin.
However, down below the high-rise building, one can hear the distant noise of the traffic from both cars and people.
But what disturbed him awake was perhaps the subtle scent of refined tea that floated in the air, making his stomach turn in hunger.
"Nngh."
Alistair stirred.
His eyes blinked open slowly, half-lidded and heavy with reluctance to wake up.
His black hair, loosened from the tie it had been in, curled out in odd directions.
At this moment, his hair looked like a chaotic nest crowning his otherwise composed features.
He let out a breath while scanning the room.
It was spacious, much bigger than what most would anticipate for a temporary place to stay.
The space was empty, tidy, and minimalist, providing ample room for more than one person to settle in comfortably.
And yes, someone else had already made themself at home.
In the middle of the room, where a table definitely hadn't been before, sat a woman.
She exuded effortless elegance in a Victorian-style chair that matched an equally elaborate table.
For all he knew, that table wasn't there until this morning, which meant she had brought the table and chair set in with her magic.
However, she held a steaming porcelain cup, taking a sip of her tea from it, elegantly.
With her legs crossed and a serene expression, she seemed calm.
Naturally, that was until her gaze fell on Alistair's messy appearance.
"Oh my."
Natsuki said softly, almost to herself.
"That's a new look. It has a tragic charm to it."
Alistair let out a groan, running a hand through the messy hair on his head.
"I don't recall inviting you into—you know what, scratch that, but I warn you, entering a man's room like that uninvited is dangerous."
He said dryly, his voice still raspy with sleep.
Natsuki brushed off his comment, taking another sip of her tea with the calmness of someone who had meticulously planned her day—and his, whether he liked it or not.
"Anyways, I'm simply here to inform you that you have school today."
She said that without a serious expression, placing her teacup back on its saucer with care without so much as a glance at the youthful-looking male like her.
However, Aleister blinked.
"…School?"
"Yes. You've been enrolled. Middle school, to be exact."
He didn't respond.
Instead, Alistair's face froze as if reality had just punched him squarely in the jaw.
A single shake of his head followed.
"No."
Another pause. Then a firmer shake.
"No."
Without rising, he dragged the edge of his bedspread closer, wrapping it around himself like a shield.
"No."
His gaze, now sharp and unmistakably annoyed, narrowed on her.
"Absolutely not."
Natsuki's eyes sparkled. She wasn't even trying to hide her amusement now.
"I knew you'd love it."
She said, a smile curling at the edges of her lips as she rose from the Victorian-style chair she sat on.
"But I've already submitted your records. I signed the papers yesterday."
"Oh, and your name is on the registry, and your uniform is freshly pressed."
Alistair looked like he might genuinely explode.
He held his right hand in front of him as though to stop her from continuing.
"You do realize I'm not actually fifteen."
"I do."
"And yet you're making me attend school with children."
She leaned back, tilting her head and resting her chin on her hand, gazing at him with a playful smile.
"You look like a child, Seraph. The illusion of your Familiar does wonders for your disguise. No one's going to question it."
His lips curled in irritation.
"That's not an illusion. It's a rejection of phenomena that alters—"
She waved him off. "Details."
With a snap of her finger, a neatly folded uniform floated through the air and landed on his head.
Grey trousers with white shirt.
Immaculate.
"Wear it." She said, smirking.
Alistair stared at the uniform like it was a cursed artefact, wincing as he did.
"Remind me again why I agreed to come here."
"To monitor the Fourth Progenitor."
Natsuki answered, her voice shifting back to that calm, official tone.
Like that, a moment of silence stretched between them.
Alistair sighed through his nose, the expression on his face an open mix of resentment and reluctant acceptance.
He reached for the uniform with stiff fingers, as if touching it was a violation of some fundamental principle.
"Middle school," he muttered under his breath. "A grown man... in middle school."
From across the room, Natsuki watched with the contentment of someone watching their plan fall neatly into place.
"You'll blend in. Middle school is not too far. The Fourth, remember? His sister attends the same class you'll be entering, so count yourself lucky."
He didn't answer.
Aleister simply held the uniform up in front of him like he was mourning the loss of his dignity.
"I expect you to be ready within the hour." Natsuki added. "The driver will be downstairs."
Natsuki stood, and as she did, her conjured table and chair vanished in a heartbeat.
"But don't worry, Seraph."
She added over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
"I'm sure you'll be a delightful transfer student."
The door clicked shut behind her.
Alistair flopped back onto the bed, still holding his uniform, and stared at the ceiling.
"…Delightful," he repeated, deadpan.
Then he sat up with a sigh and muttered to himself:
"I take back what I said yesterday. I'm going to enjoy teasing you for this."
But then, a small smile tugged at his lips saying that.
…
LATER –
"Haah."
The morning passed like an execution.
Alistair stepped through the tall gates of Saikai Academy Middle School with a grimace barely hidden behind his collar.
Students milled around in clumps, laughter and idle chatter bouncing off walls.
It felt too loud.
Too warm. Too... human.
His uniform felt tighter than it should, clinging to his skin like an insult.
Despite everything, his presence did not go unnoticed.
"Is he new?"
"He's kind of cute."
"Look at his hair... so silky..."
Each passing step became heavier under their stares.
The girls whispered excitedly.
Boys—less impressed—shot quick glares.
He had barely crossed the courtyard before a teacher spotted him.
"Ah, you must be Aleister-kun. Come."
His homeroom teacher, a slim man with slightly too much gel in his hair, walked him through the halls, casually explaining the rules, expectations, and where the bathrooms were as if any of that mattered.
Then, after about more than twenty minutes, came the classroom.
"Everyone, we have a transfer student. Introduce yourself."
Alistair stood at the front of the class, posture loose but composed.
He swept his gaze over the room once.
Thirty students. Most seemed typical. But two caught his attention immediately—two girls, both with jet-black hair.
The first had a quiet grace about her. Her eyes flicked toward him once, then away.
The second was more vibrant, posture relaxed with a glint of curiosity in her gaze.
Her bangs brushed the edge of her lashes as she tilted her head, examining him as if trying to read a book with a torn cover.
"My name is Alistair. I've been assigned here for...personal reasons. I'm not fond of crowds, so please keep your noise to a minimum."
That earned a couple of chuckles, mostly from the boys. The girls, on the other hand, seemed amused.
One whispered, "He's like a little prince."
Another, more daring, whispered, "No, like a vampire prince."
He caught that one.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
"You may take the open seat by the window," the teacher instructed.
Alistair complied, walking past desks and curious stares until he slid into the chair.
Sunlight pooled lazily on the edge of his desk.
The class began with a standard math lesson, but it was background noise to him.
He leaned slightly, glancing at the two black-haired girls again.
They hadn't moved.
One was taking notes. The other had her chin in her palm, absentmindedly tapping her pen.
'So, that's my junior she was talking about. As for the other one, that one is...'
His voice trailed off as the lecture continued.
Finally, after all that session, the bell for break rang.
And with it came the flood.
"Alistair-kun, do you like basketball?"
"Where did you transfer from?"
"Are you mixed? Your eyes are really golden...! Are those contacts? Ne…! Ne!"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
The sea of questions poured in from eager girls surrounding his desk like it was a celebrity panel.
He fielded them with patience and dry wit, answering a few here and there.
"No, I don't play basketball. It seems inefficient."
"I transferred from far away."
"No, I'm not mixed, thank you."
"Additionally, I don't have a girlfriend."
The guys in the room sat further away, sulking or muttering among themselves. Envy in their eyes.
He stood up halfway through another round of questions, lifting a hand apologetically.
"Forgive me. I'm meeting my guardian. She tends to get...irritable when I'm late."
He moved with a calm, practised grace, slipping past the crowd and exiting the classroom before anyone could grab his sleeve.
The hallways were quiet, with voices from other rooms.
His destination was the high school, which for some reason was just adjacent to the middle school.
And his destination was none other than the faculty wing.
Specifically, the office of Minamiya Natsuki.
He knocked once.
"Come in," came the voice from within.
He opened the door.
Greeting him was an office that didn't look like that of a high-school teacher.
It was more like a presidential office.
And Natsuki, on her hand, sat at her desk, papers floating lazily around her as she sipped from another porcelain cup of tea.
She wore her usual gothic-lolita outfit, legs crossed elegantly.
"Well, well," she said without looking up. "The transfer prince walks among the commoners. Did they worship you yet?"
Alistair closed the door behind him.
"They tried," he said simply.
She set her cup down, smiling coyly.
"I figured you'd cause a stir. You have the kind of face that makes schoolgirls forget their manners."
"Then you've doomed them."
Aliester shot back, strolling toward the desk, his hand placed on her table.
"Because I don't intend to entertain delusions."
"How cruel," she said, placing a hand over her chest in mock offence. "Here I thought you'd make a few friends. Maybe find a sweetheart."
"I'm a grown ass man pretending to be a fifteen-year-old in a room full of hormonal children. I'd rather swallow mercury or be sent to the border prison."
Natsuki laughed softly, twirling her finger and making a pen on the desk float lazily in the air.
"And yet here you are."
"Because I was forced," he muttered, leaning against the edge of her desk.
"Oh, don't be dramatic."
He knew she could be playful whenever she wanted to be, but he'd known of her alias.
This side was just an added incentive to her other sides.
"Ah, yes. By the way, I've seen them, the ones you placed me in a class with."
"Oh. Is that so?"