The moment Mr. Abrams laid eyes on classroom 3-C’s interior, with his remaining students in tow, various emotions arose within the depths of his stomach.
Irritation, exhaustion, and greatest of all...confusion?
A long and wild-haired kid with a scar under his left eye held a short brown-eyed boy up by the collar...who had his face turned the other way and both hands clasped tightly to each ear in mock protest. Like it genuinely enabled him to ignore his captor.
A white haired youth with a soft and kind countenance gazed at the two with his innocent eyes, and attempted to convince one to ‘put down’ the other. A chubby brunette sported ruby red lipstick and was busily shooting various selfies from all manner of poses – though there was ONE detail every single one of them shared.
…
They were all taken beside a second white-haired boy with curly edges poking out of his hoodie, one who appeared to be peacefully dreaming away, as if the chaos surrounding was, in fact, his own, comforting lullaby – a sweet melody of dream-inducing tranquility. Nothing in the world mattered besides sleeping to this young man.
Well... nothing other than his father.
*SMACK*
"AAAAHH!"
"Today's not orientation, so you have no more excuses for skipping. To. Class."
"Stupid ol' man...just you wait - I'm learning magic that'll give you gray hairs soon...mm? Oh, right. Hey Elijah! *Yawn* ahaha~ you lost your powers-"
*Smack*
"AHH!!"
"Stop antagonizing him, Rhys. I swear, if only you weren't so...you."
"..."
"It's nice to see you again, Rhys. I didn't lose my powers, they're just...not working."
"...? What's the differen- MMPH...!"
"Leave. Now."
Woah, this guy just waved his hand and his son had his mouth magically sealed shut! Who is he?!
"Fwah! Fine! I'm going! See ya later, Elijah! Get better soon, it's boring when you're not around!"
The chubby girl exhales a gasp and blushes, but didn't say anything. I wonder what's got her so excited...
Once the twelfth student entered, something strange happened. I blinked, and I was miraculously sitting in my seat.
Startled noises of stalled-realization echo around due to the rippling confirmation that all 12 of us had somehow wound up in the very seats housing our nameplates.
"Alright kids, we'll be getting a few helping hands tomorrow as teacher's aids. For now, My name is Mr. Abrams. Your homeroom teacher. Please begin by intro-"
"OH MAH GAWD! No WONDER you looked so hot! You're a ranked hero!"
"..."
The girl with braids named Alyandrea cocked an eyebrow. "He is...? This disinterested geezer?"
"Mr. Houdini Abrams. Ranked 6th. Though, he used to be ranked 4th. He is not only a 'Ranked Hero', but a single-digit ranker at that."
I couldn't see who spoke just now, they were sitting in front of the wild-haired punk who grabbed me.
"...I'm not old. Even if I was, old people don't like being called old, so watch it. Does anyone want to begin self-introductions? Speak now before I call on you. You've got 10 minutes."
"Then I'll...I-I'll...!-"
"No chance. I'M starting thi-"
"I'll start."
Without waiting for that stuttering shy presence to finish fumbling over her own sentence, I stand up and confidently walk towards the front of the class. Quite a few wanted to go up, including the wild-haired bully from before. I just sharply cut him off and walk past him. If looks could kill...hehe!
"My name's Noel Tyler. I moved here from very far away. I'm 12 years old *bows* I've been homeschooled my whole life and don't understand how school works, I skipped my entire Middle school years to come here as a 1st year in High school. Please take care of me."
Good, heheh. My introduction was perfect, as planned. Now...the silence is a bit eerie. I don't think I messed up. Do I wait for the teacher to dismiss me or-
"Why you got two first names?"
"...Huh? Um... I don't have two first names. Tyler is my- *cough* is not my first name."
Tyler is my middle name, but Boman signed me up with it as my last name. I refuse to use that disgusting name 'Malierano' anymore. A family of hired help who don't even shy away from killing, can keep that name to themselves. I want no part of it, anymore.
That pudgy tanned brunnete continued to eye me suspiciously, “Hmmm....You said 'Noel', but, isn't that a girl’s name?”
A girl’s name? “Pa-Pardon?”
Was it a society thing? I don't see what makes a name a "girly" one or a "Boyish" one, but she was very quick to enlighten me.
“...Yeah.... Yeah! Noel! That's for girls, and the boy version is pronounced like 'N-ohl' or something-”
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That same boy who's voice I couldn't identify earlier, sitting in front of the wild-haired punk. He was speaking this time. His nameplate read "IAN"
“You're thinking of 'Noelle' the female equivalent. Originally, No?l was, is, and always has been, the male counterpart for 'Noelle'. It has recently, in modern times, been used as a unisex name. Also, there IS a variation of Noel that's pronounced as 'N-ohl' like you mentioned, but that was originally brought about by a mispronunciation... like, a MASSIVE one by English speakers in places like Australia, England and the United States.
Due to the huge number of people mispronouncing it, Noel pronounced as 'Nole' became an actual name in its own right and further, English speaking people unanimously began agreeing that the 'Nole' pronunciation was the real version for a male Noel to be called – but that's just ignorance, arrogance, or a mix of both. Either the original Noel, The variation that spells it with the '?' in it(although the only difference this one has is that it stands out when writing), or the one pronounced as 'Nole': they're all good names in their own rights.”
“...”
“...Thank you...I guess. I... didn't know any of that. My mother's name was 'Noelle' so... I think she named me after her. Honestly though... I don't care if you call me No?l or Nole... spell it either way, with an accent over the 'e' or whatever. The way I see it, they're all referencing the same name, MY name: Noel.”
“Heheh, I'm French, so...I've already learned about certain pronunciation differences. The English pronunciation and French pronunciation for Noel confused people so I believe they 'migrated' the accented 'e' in English to differentiate the two, but it's just stupid. When you pronounce Noel by dragging the 'L' before the 'e' in sound, then you should just spell it the way it sounds, as Nole, Knoll or as Knole, instead of demanding it to be the correct spelling for guy Noels. If you pronounce Noel as No-El, by dragging out the E sound first, then spell it that way! Spell it as Noel, then, or for girls, they have the second actually feminine option, 'Noelle' like you're, uh... mom. If you pronounce it with an invisible 'W' like Noh-Wel(think of towel) or 'Noh-well', then just spell it as Nowel, Nowell or Knowell. If you just wanna say: 'Fuck the rules, I'll pronounce it however I want and still spell it Noel', then do that too! There's no need to bully others over a name. And even though the spelling 'No?l' is French, Spanish speaking countries say No-el a lot also, not really the 'Nole' version. The normal 'Noel' pronounced as 'No-el' is really popular in places where Santa Clause was introduced as 'Papa Noel' I hear-”
“...You talk too plubbing much you stupid nerd!”
“...”
“Oliviera, Stop. That's NOT how you speak to someone. Ian, drop the subject already. It's a slightly controversial topic that doesn't need an answer. Especially when the name-bearer just said to call him however you wish.”
So, her name is Oliviera. Okay. I'll remember you for making fun of my names.
Alyandrea was the next person to ask questions, “...So you're 12, huh? You skipped all of middle school... just to enter high school early?”
“Yeah.” I didn't like any implications her question might’ve had and answered indifferently.
I don't think she liked that.
“Didn't you ever stop to THINK it would be dangerous for you here?! There could be a villain attack, or danger from villains disguised as heroes. Possibly even bullying by others who wanna be heroes but are just plain selfish, prideful and weird! Can you handle it?! You're a middle-schooler!”
…
For a second, I felt like laughing.
Me? Bullied? Maybe if they wanted to end up as cripples.
.
.
Unfortunately, I've got a special identity in this school. In order to not stand out, I had Boman pretend to act as a true ‘step father’ by forging my Father's signature on various documents. That way, it looks like Boman came from out of the country after picking the homeless boy(me!) up during his travels and adopting me.
Of course, I didn't like the idea of Boman hanging around school to pick me up either. So at my behest; Boman told the school that he no longer was capable of ‘caring’ for me. That he would pay for my next 5 years of stay in our school’s dormitory. All so I can live like a normal nobody, not standing out and getting caught by anybody that might know the Malieranos.
Shifting my gears a bit, I immediately put on the best puppy dog eyes I can, only adding to them a hint of childish curiosity. Yes, the same ones that even that cynical and Steel-hearted brother of mine, the eldest of the quintuplets: 'Seiran' praised as being difficult to endure for the average adult. Heheh.
“Am I supposed to put my guard up around a bunch of heroes-in-training?”
.
.
.
Boom.
For a moment, Alyandrea and Oliviera felt like big sisters, a desire- no, an instinctual impulse to protect the youngest cub of this soon to be targeted pack. Sei was right, Puppy dog eyes are terrifying.
See, look! That chubby brunnete was now stuttering through blushing cheeks, “You... You moron! Coming into this school unprepared... with... with that weak mindset!! They'll... they'll...! Those ferocious kids will EAT YOU ALIVE!”
“…I agree. Be careful, this school isn't as 'kind' as you would think, being a learning institution for heroes. Even when they save you: it's generally to make themselves look good. NOT because they have your best interest at heart. Remember, although they're future heroes... they're also human beings desperately craving recognition by already-active superheroes.”
“Haha... he's 12.. I barely got in and he, a 12 year old, managed to make it...
Err...I – I mean, wel-welcome Noel! It's so nice of you to grace us with your...genius.”
Elijah, the formerly-sponsored King candidate, brought the conversation back to pace and introduced himself while greeting me with an impressive show of finesse, unlike that other , “Welcome, Noel. My name is Elijah Abiko. Don't let the girls spook you. A majority of students wouldn't bother wasting their time on people as young and powerless as we are. At most, a few from the realist faction will harass and try to scare us into dropping out.”
"B-But wh-why they would even want to do such a thing...?"
I turn around and finally see the face of the one I interrupted. Impressive, she confidently finished a sentence this time.
Elijah wanted to respond, but before he could speak, that short guy, Ian, announced with excitement as if eager to share his knowledge.
“That's because the school's major faction, the realists, see us as a potential hazardous threat to their learning. Having to worry about saving civilian lives all of the time, 24/7 takes certain teachers' attention away from those that may become heroes in the future. Not only that, but some kids want to test our mettle: to see if we really would like to attend their school as helpless Demoiselles and Damoiseaux, thereby putting our very own lives at risk for their training.”
“Don't you worry about a thing Noel! Like a mother lion protecting its cubs, I will protect you! Oh, and you, mega shortie. What the plub is a... a... a damwasuth or whatever you said?”
Ian: “...I'm not telling you now. And I AM NOT A MEGA SHORTIE!"
“You kinda are. I mean no offense by it. Just facts...”
“Well, I don't know what the frick a 'DAMWASUTH-BLEH” is, but Damoiseaux is plural for Damoiseau, which is the male equivalent for the term Demoiselle, which is where the word 'damsel' in the term 'damsel in distress', actually originates from.”
“...I don't like that look in your eyes. It seems fake. You smell like a dangerous little shit.”
My eyes narrowed, I couldn't help it. This guy sensed that split second murderous intent I mistakenly leaked out, and now he claimed something strang about me. Fortunately for me, no one knew who he was speaking to. Not Ian, nor Oliviera.
"Who's eyes? And who smells?!"
Oliviera: "Can't be about me. That's an impossible conclusion."
“Okay next per-”
"Don't smell me. it's weird."
“-son. Ahem. Next person for class introductions, please make it a quick one.”
His eyes glowered menacingly, but what of it? I had to get the last word over him. You wild-haired punk...just wait 'til after class!
