"Abide by the rules if you value your studies."
Christan stared at the note with a stiff expression.
He was passing by on his way to the other office when he noticed the words on the board, and they couldn't be serious if they thought that was motivation.
That was a threat. Indeed, he was at Goldleaf. Taking a deep breath, he walked away.
Soon enough, he froze in front of the staff office door.
He braced himself and knocked. When he stepped inside, there were several chairs and long tables, with only two figures around.
The first was a slim man in his early thirties, freckles scattered across his face, sitting quietly while sipping his juice. The other was a tall, brown-skinned man; one side of his eyebrow had a scar, and his long legs were stretched over the table.
"Good afternoon, sir," his voice came out low.
The man with freckles turned to him. "Good afternoon."
The teachers weren't like Luken, who used to smile, but neither did they seem strict enough for him to lose his nerve.
"Put your suitcase on the table," the teacher instructed.
So it was about inspection. As he was told, he put his suitcase on the table.
The teacher rummaged through his luggage and pulled out a blanket. He gave Christan an incredulous look and lifted the blanket toward him.
Christan looked at it, the corners of his mouth twitching, unsure whether to respond or apologize. He didn't even know what was wrong with it.
The teacher tossed the blanket back. "Suit yourself."
"Take out all your personal clothes," the teacher told him sternly.
He wasn't sure what he would wear if he left them behind, but he complied and removed all his home clothes from his bag, leaving only sweaters and tracksuits.
Then the teacher directed him to the other teacher.
His gaze shifted to the man laughing at his phone.
He stopped near him and waited for the man to snap out of his world. He should have noticed from the moment he entered that this teacher was ignoring him. There were annoying teachers in every school, and he was sure he already disliked this one.
He waited for a few minutes before the teacher finally turned to him.
"In that drawer you'll find a pair of scissors." Then he returned to his phone.
He frowned slightly, but without lingering, he walked to the cupboard. He opened the drawer, and there was a sharp silver pair of scissors, just as the teacher had said.
He grabbed them and walked back. They couldn't possibly want to cut his clothes just because they were forbidden.
The teacher accepted the scissors, put his phone aside, and rose. "Come and sit."
He sat tensely. His hands tightened with unease as he waited.
Carelessly, the teacher lifted the scissors and sheared the tip of Christan's hair. The snipping sound echoed close to his ears. Startled, he spun around abruptly and looked directly at the teacher.
The teacher gazed at him casually, as if daring him to react.
Looking at the scissors, Christan realized the man was just cutting his hair. He turned to look forward again.
When Luken had commented on his long hair, he hadn't thought it was serious enough for a teacher to cut it himself.
His chest tightened as strands of his long auburn hair dropped to the floor. What more were they going to do?
When it was finally over, he looked down. Hair strands covered his lap and the floor. What an unreasonable rule.
He slowly picked up the strands from his lap and the floor, bitterness settling in his chest.
Then the teacher handed him a uniform and told him to change into it. His eyes widened. There wasn't any spare room for changing. Where did they expect him to change?
The teacher looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you going to?"
His fingers tightened around the uniform. Only if... Only if what? It wasn't like he would do anything.
Hopelessly, he stepped aside and started changing. He removed the sweater he was wearing, followed by the T-shirt, leaving only his white vest.
At that time, a knock was heard. After they allowed it, Ethan stepped inside.
As usual, the other teacher inspected Ethan's luggage, while the other was busy with his phone. As he waited to be inspected, Ethan threw a glance at Christan.
There, his arms were covered with lines that looked like scars. His eyes narrowed. Those scars didn't look like something he had gotten in one day. What was that guy?
He turned his attention back to his inspection.
The teacher who was playing with his phone paused as he also noticed Christan's arms.
When Christan finished, he was now in a red uniform, wearing a red blazer and trousers, with a white shirt and a red tie with white lines.
Then the teacher who had earlier been playing with his phone handed Christan a paper. It had the school's rules, schedule, a map, and a card showing his room number.
The teacher said, now looking serious, different from when he was laughing—"Whatever you heard about the school isn't the truth." He smiled. "You will come to like it here."
Christan nodded, unsure of his words. Was he supposed to hear anything? And why did he sound like he cared this time?
"Now go and pack your things so you won't miss classes."
Christan nodded before stepping outside.
Inside the office, the brown-skinned teacher's face tightened as he glanced at his colleague.
"Lauren, you saw something. What was it?" asked the other teacher.
Ethan paid attention, as he was sure they were talking about the boy who had just stepped outside.
Lauren faced him. "Nothing obvious. He just reminded me of someone."
He remembered the scars on the boy's body.
Even if the other teacher wasn't sure what Lauren saw, he knew one thing about the kid.
Most of the students here were from detention, and the boy was among those whose guardians had brought them here.
He turned to his fellow teacher. "Lauren, have I told you he would be in your class?"
Lauren went quiet for a moment, then asked, "What was his name again?"
"Christan."