Admittedly, Joyce had little to no qualms about being a student in her school.
When you're living in a world where everyone remembers their past lives and is defined by a visible mark somewhere in your body, you tend to strive to stand out.
Especially if who you are in your past life defines your status in life.
And especially, if you don't even remember much of your own past life.
See, no one really had any idea how this had happened. Scientists thought they might be hallucinations of some sort, or imagination conjured up by the brain.
It was quickly disproved when they tested someone who said that she was the reincarnation of Queen Marie Antoinette, and all the facts they had dug up about her was thoroughly told by the woman, even the ones they didn't even know about.
They were also sure that this woman had no way of knowing all of this, since she was clearly no history geek judging by her background.
After testing a few hundred more people, they confirmed it was real. They were a whole new generation who remembered their past lives, with their marks as their defining proof. Eventually, it spread to everyone, and they all became well-accustomed to it.
Which means that your past life defines your status as well.
Joyce hesitantly put a hand against her nape, where her own mark laid. It was bizzare, really; there was a wooden stake crossing a silver sword there, and in it's center was a ball of fire.
She didn't know who it was that defined her mark. She wasn't eager to find out, either.
But, maybe...maybe I should really be interested?, Joyce thought as she stepped inside the open gate made with Ebony Black rails and climbed up the long concrete steps of stairs leading to the school campus with other new students behind her. After all, if she or he was a nobody, I wouldn't have gotten enrolled here...
Indeed, René Descartes Memorial Junior High School (or RDMJHS) is a school that strictly takes in students who are either talented at something, incredibly smart, or both.
The only important thing is that you were someone important in your past life; someone who has contributed so much to society, or changed the world in some way.
Joyce had been a freshman last year, as a 7th grader. Now that she's in grade 8, she's really excited to find out which section she'll be put to.
It'll be a long shot if she'll be put to the honors' class, but it's not wrong to dream, right?
She stepped into the main building and took in the familiar sight of the interior of the school before her, with the chapel at her right, and the office of the Disciplinarians at her left. Strangely feels nostalgic, even if I've been here two months ago...
Shaking that thought out of her head, she went forward and walked towards the open doors of the outside, with the green lockers lining up at the side of the way to the Covered Courts, and the open space crowded with a lot of students crowding at two blackboards containing papers posted up.
Ah, so they must be our sections for the school year, Joyce assumed.
She walked past some girls who are discussing their own sections to each other excitedly, pushed past a lot of 9th graders who seem to be irritating each other, and looked at the list of students in each sections for her own name.
It was a bit bothersome, what with all the students jostling for spots to see, but it fortunately didn't take long to spot her own name.
Joyce grinned. Aha! Okay. Now, what section am I...?

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Memories in Addition
AdventureIn a world where everyone had a past life at least once and remembered every single bit of it, Joyce had wound up with just fragments of these past events unlike everyone else. The people in Palliola had been amazing philosophers, prophets, scientis...