P-AWNS

Chapter 01 - This Isn't a Magic Academy, Sadly

"In the beginning of the book I began with invisibility. In the end of its beginning I passed with truth. You, the revolving sun; me, the revolving world. If I say, I shall start with the lie, how will you believe me O Sun?"

- Extract from "The Stars Pause" by Kunitachi Rei

The beginning of a story was artificial. It was a deliberate construction. Its purpose but to spark a lie. A lie of their sentiments, their identities.

Consider this: every beginning was a lifelong nomad, always hauling a suitcase-joy and sadness, memories and souvenirs, and what more always filled to the brim?

It drove Kiyotaka, urged him to open his hands-only more and more sprawled in the world outside. An endless world of stories that stretched out unto forever.

But in the end, all fleeting lies unravelled to truth. The eternal was the truth. So Kiyotaka's hands slipped. The spring flowers passed through his fingers like so much water. Never the same, never yielding.

Walking on the grounds of his new school, Advanced Writers Nurturing School, went according to his plan made long ago. Staring stealthily at his fellow students went as per an impromptu plan Kiyotaka had to whip out mere seconds ago. The alternative was to bemoan his situation, his problem. And what meaning was there in that?

New places were waiting to be explored. It was finally real-the wind rustling his hair and clothes, the scent of broken flowers caressing his lips, and a sea of students bustling around him.

Yet his progress stalled because his feet were aimless. Kiyotaka needed a map for the direction. He was no explorer. He had no grand ambitions-nothing like mapping out the boundaries of the oceans. (He didn't use mirrors often but proprioception was an assurance that he wasn't a walking sack of bones.)

To follow the pace of his fellow students was the only available option. And that was when Kiyotaka was stuck, halting his idle wanderings. Because the small sea of students had stilled dead as a corpse.

But his mind still wandered, his eyes wandered till he saw a long haired woman, perched on a stool, who must be a teacher. Ebony black hair fell in her lap. Grey eyes roamed like uncaring steel, a blade that cuts unseeing.

She nodded at some students who met her gaze in acknowledgement.

"Um, sensei," said a girl who stepped out from the crowd. Someone managed the courage at last. Kiyotaka didn't want to be disappointed first thing in the morning. "Where is Class Osamu?"

"Back again Karuizawa-san?" She chuckled, smiling at the blonde girl with a ponytail that ended below her waist. "I suppose you aren't the only one wandering."

An easy conclusion to make by seeing the new students. If only someone in administration foresaw it.

"There were a lot of empty classes," she replied, rubbing the back of her head in apparent embarrassment.

Apparently Karuizawa wasn't exactly defeated by meandering hallways. The confusion of having so many vacant classes offset any possible progress. Kiyotaka thought she would have reached her class if she didn't hesitate.

Although that begged the question still about why the classes were deserted. Unlike in his generation, there should have been plenty of students. Kiyotaka folded his arms on his chest, observing the dialogue between student and teacher unfold.

Kiyotaka approached the young teacher after a few minutes. He had to wait for less than he expected. By that time both Karuizawa and other students had dispersed.