Dinner during the evening had been the usually uneventful one. Raveena had eaten quickly, in her usual corner seat at the far end of the dorm’s cafeteria. The rice was a little dry, the soup was too hot, and the surrounding chatter too loud.

Now she walked alone through one of Saint Maribelle’s long corridors. She could hear the soft whirr of charm-post cranes flitting overhead—some late birds carrying notes home to dorms, others just zipping aimlessly because their senders probably decided to be weird about how they addressed it to their recipients.

Students passed by her on occasion. Some snuck a glance at her.

Some stared.

Others didn’t bother looking at all—which, if she were being honest, was far more her preference.

“The less eyes, the better.”

She exhaled once through her nose at that thought.

The path to the predator-folk dormitories branched off through one of the school’s semi-open walkways—an arched, roofed path lined with lanterns. A sort of breezeway connecting the main campus to the two separated dorm buildings. The prey-folk dorm sat far to the east, while the predator-folk side occupied the western end. That was, by design, meant for instinct regulation, for space. Maybe also for peace of mind.

"It wasn't segregation, just part of the structure," one of the faculties mentioned during the opening ceremony upon the start of the school year.

Raveena didn’t care either way.

Because her thoughts were on something, or rather, someone else.

“That rabbit-folk girl… Aya Ribbuns,” she slowed down as she recalled the encounter earlier, just a bit.

It was strange. Not in a bad way, because, in fact, it felt surprisingly pleasant.

The rabbit had come right up to her. Offered her a snack like it was no big deal. Smiled like she hadn’t heard a single thing about her. And worst of all?

She’d made her smile back and actually compliment Aya.

“Tsk…” she clicked her tongue, cringing at the thought that she had told the rabbit that she was cute, out of nowhere.

And now? Now Raveena couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or the fact that being near a rabbit-folk, let alone that rabbit-folk, was probably going to stir some very enthusiastic interest from the student news club.

She already figured out during her first week here that they were the ones always snooping for the next “unexpected pairings” exposé or “student scandals that aren’t actually scandals but make great headlines.”

“Figures. All it takes is one snack.”

Of course, it wasn’t a problem.

Not yet.

However, if it did start to become one—if the gossiping whispers got louder or the questions started flying her way—well, she’d just avoid Aya Ribbuns. Simple.

Receiving and giving attention was never her thing, after all.

When Raveena eventually reached her dorm room and pushed open the door, surprisingly, the place was empty.

“…Huh.”

There was no sign of her roommate.

Not that Raveena minded. However, thank the stars, this roommate of hers isn’t insufferable. Energetic, yes, and had a habit of talking while upside down on the bed, but manageable. Still, she’s usually here by this hour, lazing around or bouncing a ball off the wall with a spoon for no reason.

She eyed the desk chair, the bunk, the tossed-up blanket heap.

Weird.

But, not her business.

She’d be back by the time she finished bathing, probably.

Raveena turned to her locker shelf, pulling out her towel, her robe, and the little caddy she kept her toiletries in. She started to stack them neatly.

Then—

Fwip.

Something zipped behind her head. Her ears flicked hard upon picking up the sound, then she spun around fast to see what it could be.

Nothing.

Her window was open a crack, so if that meant anything, it was probably the wind.

“Hm.”

Then she turned back to her caddy.

Flap. Flap.

She stilled for a second. Because right there, hovering inches from her face, was something.

“What the…” she muttered as she reflexively took a step back.

It was a paper crane, or rather, a charm-post crane. One with pale green parchment, its wings fluttering gently with a mildly shimmering glow.

The crane drifted toward her slowly, bobbing slightly like it knew it startled her.

Raveena slightly narrowed her eyes, then held out her palm, and the crane landed without resistance. It magically unfolded on its own, revealing a brief letter written on the inside.

The handwriting was annoyingly familiar, it had its wide loops, half-doodles in the margins, and a little fox-face sketched beside the signature.

Hey Roomie,

Decided to crash a little late over at my roommate-less friend’s room in the prey dorm. We’re doing a super serious study session.

(And totally not trying the snacks my buddy smuggled in from town, hush.)

Might sneak back if we wrap up early. Keep the window open.

If you hear a noise—it’s not a burglar, it’s just your favorite red fox making a heroic tree-to-window leap.

Much love, Rory Brixton, peace!

Raveena sighed as soon as she finished reading. Then she stepped over to the window and leaned slightly out, and sure enough—

There it was. A tall, sturdy tree. Its upper branches stretched conveniently near the second-floor dorms; fox-folk acrobatics practically invited.

“...Yeah, sure,” she mumbled to herself with a small smile.

She shut the window almost all the way. Left a gap. Just wide enough before she then folded the letter and set it on the nearby desk.

Then, towel and caddy in hand, she stepped out and closed the door, and then made her way down the hall toward the girls’ shower room.