Furuno and I decide to join the queue. The line crawls at an infuriating pace, and of course, my na is buried at the bottom of the list. When my na is called, just three other girls are left. Furuno had already gone in earlier.
I walk forward to heed the call. A woman with spectacles and a bun which is pulled back so tightly that it looks painful, stands at the entrance. Her eyes are very sharp - like a hawk’s, her mouth is drawn into a very thin line. She is holding a big book.
She accesses with an expression that strongly resembles contempt and indicates that I should place my palm on the page of the open book.
I experience instant dislike for her attitude, and her excessive use of cologne.
As soon as I place my palm on the book, my na appears in cursive. I am the 405th student taking attendance.
She gestures for to remove my hand. Why not just have us sign the attendance like normal people? Maybe, this is her foolproof way of making sure noone skips.
I glance at her loosely slung scarf and black shapeless dress. Definitely the prudish type. My gaze trails down to her shoes. They are slightly scuffed but in good state- practical but nothing fancy. All black.
I usually like people that appreciate dark colours, but not this one. She seems to abuse the colour, instead of highlighting it.
She tucks a strand of her hair that pulls loose back into the bun. I really feel bad for the hair. No breathing space.
She hands a sheet of paper and waves off.
I give the remaining girls a backward glance before I walk into the dimly lit corridor.
The archways are made of stone. So modern touches can be seen, but it does not conceal the fact that the building is a very old one. The cold stone looks moldy with age. Probably since the Elizabethan era.
I see a small signboard pointing towards two large oak doors.
Instead of door handles, there are two rings on the door. The first thing that cos to my mind is that I’m supposed to knock.
I pull on the door. It does not budge.
"Stuck?" Soone asks from behind .
I hesitate before I look over my shoulder. I keep finding myself in embarrassing situations.
Once the sought-after Assassin, now reduced to a useless spellcaster. I don’t even know if I can cast spells yet. There’s no thrill to learn, just dread. I’m in unknown territory.
The girl gets closer. She stops a few feet away from .
"You have to tell the door your Reg number". She says, her voice unnervingly serious.
I expected her to laugh or make so snide comnt.
I guess I’m always expecting the worst from people.
She is the black girl that had co to see Angela earlier. Surprisingly, I don’t rember her na. I’ve never been bad with nas - another sign that my brain is overworking.
She flicks so of her dreads over her shoulder.
I turn back to the door. I can’t hear any sound from within. I can hear the unvoiced impatience in the pattern of her breathing.
I take a deep breath. Now I have to talk to doors? Would I have to talk to a chair before I sit on it? Can’t they not maintain the logic I’m accustod to?
What the hell is my Reg number? I rember seeing it on my file in the Registrar’s office. I never thought that it would be important.
She starts tapping her feet - further evidence of her growing impatience.
I spare her a quick glance.
"Why don’t you go first?"
Her eyes widen slightly.
"We have to go in according to our seating order. I can’t go in before you. The door would reject ".
Okay...?
This is worse than embarrassing. Is there enough ti for to dash back to the dorm and morize my Reg number?
"Is there a problem?"
I ignore her question.
What I really want to do is yell ’Yes, there is a huge problem! I don’t know my fucking registration number’.
She continues tapping her feet, to my irritation. I can hear the scuffing of her shoes on the stone floor. I hate noise. It makes edgy. I’m already sweating from the unease of my embarrassing situation, the last thing I need is so annoying tapping sound.
"Can you stop doing that?" I ask, trying to make it sound like a request instead of a flat command.
She raises a smooth brow. "Doing what?"
I almost feel stupid for asking, but my ears are very sensitive to sounds.
"Tapping. Tapping with your feet... please stop that. It irritates ". I continue.
Her eyes darken but she stops. I instantly regret saying the last bit. The words must have landed sharper than I ant - more insult than request.
The next girl walks in and seems surprised to see both of us still standing at the door.
"What’s going on, Safari?" The new girl asks.
Now I rember, her na is Safari.
I wait for her to mock my inability to open the door, but she just shrugs.
"Need any help?"
I remain silent.
From the side of my eye, I can see brown pigtails and green eyes. She is standing close, a little too close for my liking.
She pokes her head around to look up into my face.
I level her with my killer glare and almost jerk away in surprise. She looks a lot like Clara. Large eyes, though Clara’s are blue, sa tilt of the head, sa pigtails, sa brown hair. Even their smiles are similar.
Clara.
Nostalgia washes over .
"Seems you’ve forgotten your Reg number. Are you new?"
I don’t respond.
"You don’t have to be so uptight, relax, it happens to a lot of people". She leans in to whisper, "even to ".
If her aim is to make feel better, she has failed woefully. My face flushes red. Sweat beads at my forehead.
"I have a little trick I use to rember my Reg number. Wanna hear it?"
I look at her then. She seems no older than nineteen, but most would think she is a lot younger - maybe sixteen.
Is this what Clara would look like when she is older?
It can’t hurt to hear her trick. I nod briskly.
Her smile widens.
"The first two digits are my first and last initials. The next six is the date of my admission. The last two is the na of my dorm. You should try it".
The only one I know is my initials. I’m not sure of my admission date, and I never knew the dorm had a na.
"Can I go back and get my number?" I force myself to ask.
"Sure. But, you have to be back before Mrs. Val gets here. Once she goes in, no one else can get in. And trust , you don’t want to be stuck on this side of the door when that happens".
I do the maths in my head. Only one girl is left. There’s barely enough ti to get there, not to ntion coming back.
"I can buy you ti". She says.
It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I have mastered the art of ti - or at least I like to think I have, to an extent. I can slow down ti for selected persons, which is much harder than slowing down ti for everyone within a mile’s radius."
My look of shock changes to disbelief. Slow ti? Is she Chronos? A descendant?
"You don’t get it, do you? All I’m saying is that I’ll slow ti for everyone but you and of course, myself. You would be exempt from my ti freeze. I can buy you ten minutes. Mrs. Val might suspect that I tampered with ti if I extend it longer than that."
I blink. Another cool freak.
I look at Safari, who is crossing her arms nacingly. She is not close enough to hear what we are saying.
I nod at her.
She smiles and places her hands on my upper arms. I can feel the warmth of her touch. It takes all my willpower not to shrug her hands off.
I wait for sothing magical to happen, but it doesn’t. She lifts her hand from my arm and smiles.
I look around . Safari seems to have frozen. Her eyes are locked and distant. Even the rays of dust in the air seem to have ceased their brownian motion.
"Go on. The clock is ticking". She urges.
I step backward, turn and start running. I et Mrs. Val and the last girl unmoving, at the entrance.
I keep running. Even nature has halted. There is a strange pressure in the air. Evergthing is engulfed in eerie silence.Birds and butterflies are frozen mid-air. The scene feels so surreal. As I run past, I see a lizard frozen in a spot on the stone wall. Even the rmaid water fountain in the center of the field ceases flowing. If I am not pressed for ti, I might pause to enjoy the quiet beauty of stillness.
Having such a power must be aweso.
There’s barely any wind on my face as I sprint through the hallway - did she also freeze the wind?
The back of my shirt is damp and clingy from perspiration.
I make it to the room in exactly four minutes.
I open the first drawer of my reading desk and pull out my papers. I sort through them hurriedly and pull out the one I need.
My Reg number is KT280425DS. DS. What the hell does that stand for?
I stuff the papers back into the drawer and slam it shut.
I leave the room and start running back to the auditorium.
As I approach the entrance, I dart a glance at Mrs. Val. Her eyes are shifty. Her gaze rests on mine for a split second.
Her eyes flicker - sothing sharp, knowing. My stomach drops.
What the hell?
Did she see ?
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