Emi and Asami made their way up the stairs, the other scarlet-clad girls around them bowing politely to one another as they hurried without hurrying toward the wide-open doors of the school. The girls swept up the expanse of the snowy stairs in carefully controlled chaos. A ballet of scarlet and black with each girl never seeming to hurry or dawdle. The few giggles were muted and carefully hidden behind demurely placed hands over their mouths. Emi hated each second of it.

With no real idea where she was going, she walked close beside Asami after the pair had changed into their indoor shoes. The two wove their way down the elegant, pristine halls with the others, their footfalls nearly silent on the polished pale wooden planks. As they went along, girls peeled off to their own classes until it was Emi and Asami and three other girls who reached the second door from the end of the hall and entered their classroom.

In her school in Tottori the laughter and yells and howls of the others always comforted Emi in a strange way. Much, she imagined, as the sounds of battle had bolstered a veteran samurai. There was none of that here. This was an alabaster palace of propriety and sophistication. A beacon of class in an idyllic location within the heart of Japan. A school where young girls were molded into young women. Emi wanted it to catch on fire, collapse, and then have the pieces roll down the fill into the happily burbling stream at the bottom.

Of course, Emi mused, even if that did happen the chances of her being able to go back to her old life with her Kasumi and her friends and, more importantly, her girlfriend, were basically zero. Her mother had made that fact abundantly clear. However, basically zero wasn’t zero, so it was worth musing over anyway. As for something bad happening to the school…well, typhoons were a thing and electrical faults were tragically common in these old buildings. She was not a witch of arson but was certainly not above considering the notion if necessary.

Emi scowled and pulled at her ponytail testily as part of it had gotten lodged inside the blazer. Each time she moved her head she felt the small hairs at the nape of her neck pull irritatingly. This blazer would be her undoing, she decided, finally yanking the ponytail free completely. She scowled as she searched through the book bag she’d discarded on the floor for the books she’d need, looking up only as a shadow fell across her desk.

“Gokigenyou, Seto san,” the girl said, her long black hair styled impeccably to frame her face, highlighting her considerable beauty in a way Emi was almost positive had come only after long consultations with a professional stylist. Emi blinked at the girl blankly, her mind quickly going through the names of girls she knew at the school. Stopping and ending at Asami made things relatively simple and since this girl was not Asami, she had no idea who it was.

“Gokigenyou,” Emi replied, feeling her skin crawl at having to say it.

“I am Satomi Watanabe,” The girl said as if that should mean something. She bowed her head slightly.

“Ah, yes,” Emi nodded knowingly. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. Good work!”

“Oh! You have?” The girl seemed slightly taken aback but quickly recovered and smiled brightly, flashing teeth so white and straight they could make a dentist weep uncontrollable crocodile tears.

“Absolutely!” Emi lied. She had zero idea who this person was or why she was talking to her. “What can I do for you, Satomi-san?”

“Well, since you are new to the school and I am the class representative I would like to offer my services to show you around the school today,” the girl smiled brilliantly again, nearly blinding her. Emi kept her face a mask of reverent joy but was immediately suspicious. Was this one of those “bully the new student” things she’d read about in manga?

“I would be delighted, Satomi-san,” Emi nodded in a show of gratitude, flashing a smile she judged to be sufficiently brilliant in return. “I thank you.”

“Excellent! I’ll see you at lunch, then?” Satomi bowed again.

“Yes. I’ll see you then,” Satomi turned expertly on her heel and retreated to her seat. Well, Emi decided, going back to looking through her bag, if I must, I’ll get ahold of a golf club and kneecap her. I am after all, she thought with a slight shrug, a witch of self-defense.