I lay in the pile of trash for a while, letting the rare quiet settle around me.
If only every moment at school could be like this.
Minus the trash, obviously.
After a while I push myself upright and brush the dust from my school uniform. Yep. Everyone else strolls around in fancy designer clothes, and I'm the only person in the entire school still wearing the uniform like some idiot. The school technically has a uniform policy, but nobody actually enforces it.
The uniform itself isn't anything special. It looks like the Japanese school uniforms girls wore back in the mid-90s. A navy blouse, a pleated skirt to match, and a white ribbon tied neatly at the chest.
I wear it for a simple reason. It's the only decent thing I own.
The only thing worse than being the only student in uniform would be being the only one walking around in cheap, worn-out clothes.
At least this way I can pretend I'm just following school rules. Even if everyone probably knows the truth.
Not that arguing would help. That stopped being an option a few weeks after I transferred here.
It's hard to fight back when you're fighting literally everyone around you. Students. Teachers. Doesn't matter. Everyone here is my enemy.
I don't have a single friend.
What the hell am I doing, getting worked up already?
The day has barely started. Things are bad enough without me making them worse in my own head.
I still haven't gone to class, and God knows what Maevis is going to do to me this time.
Strangely enough, I actually prefer dealing with Yashiro.
Her tormenting is awful, but at least I can usually read her. I can sense when something's coming. Most of the time it feels like she's just blowing off steam or entertaining herself.
Yeah, I know how insane that sounds. Trying to humanize someone like her after everything she's done.
But there's a reason for it.
Her sister.
Maevis.
I can't humanize her. Not even a little. I wouldn't even call that thing human.
It's a devil wearing human skin.
There's no reason behind what she does. No motive. No satisfaction either. She simply acts because she can, the way people breathe.
If she's walking down a hallway and spots some random kid breaking an arbitrary rule, she'll quietly tell them to come to her office after school.
Then she'll torment them like some medieval executioner.
She doesn't care about rules.
She does it because she can.
So yes. You might wonder how a high school teacher gets away with borderline torturing students.
That's the terrifying part.
Maevis is an axeloti-blessed. A natural one.
She was born in the slums and had nothing. Honestly, she probably had it worse than I do.
No family. No one looking out for her.
Heck, when I was little her story used to inspire me.
Then I learned what kind of monster stood behind it.
Losing my childhood hero hit pretty hard after my first run-in with her.
Being an orphan in the slums is about the worst thing that can happen to a person.
I heard she was trafficked starting when she was three.
Then, when she turned seven, she received her blessing. A very strong one.
Almost immediately after awakening it, she exterminated the gang that had been trafficking her. At least the ones nearby her.
Then she began walking toward Miracle City.
The gang tried sending people after her.
It didn't matter.
She could regenerate almost instantly, no matter how badly she was injured.
And killing someone required only a single touch.
Organ failure. Heart attacks. Tumors erupting across the body. Blood vessels bursting.
One touch was enough.
From the moment she awakened her powers, it took her only two hours to reach Miracle City.
By the time she arrived, her reputation had already spread ahead of her. Everyone was searching for the murderous demon child moving toward the city.
She didn't stop.
She just kept walking.
By the time she reached the city her bare feet were bloodied, the skin torn raw. Anyone who stood in her path was brutally disposed of. She walked straight toward Miracle Inc as if her life depended on it.
Naturally, Miracle Inc took notice.
They're always searching for powerful blessed.
They offered her a deal immediately. Full legal immunity for every crime she had committed and every crime she might commit while working for them.
She agreed without hesitation.
Just like that she became the youngest blessed ever recruited by the company.
You can probably guess what people expected next.
A demon child with limitless power, protected by the most powerful corporation in the world, completely immune to the law.
People in Miracle City and the surrounding slums panicked. Private security firms with blessed agents suddenly had more work than they could handle.
Everyone waited for the slaughter to begin.
And then nothing happened.
Silence.
Instead, rumors began spreading about a miracle doctor who could cure almost anything.
That's right.
Instead of becoming a mass murderer, the demon child became a doctor.
Not long after that people started calling her Maevis the Angel. Some even worship her like a god.
Yes. Seriously.
She even has a cult centered around her.
At first it was just a handful of religious fanatics who believed blessings were gifts from the gods. They chose Maevis as their symbol because she was the most famous blessed at the time.
But the more people she healed, the more her reputation grew.
The cult expanded rapidly.
Eventually the people she saved, along with their families, outnumbered the original believers by such a margin that the founders were effectively pushed out of their own cult.
Now it has grown to enormous proportions. It's the only major religious organization in all of Miracle City.
Honestly, it's not that surprising. Starting a religion isn't difficult when your "god" can heal almost any injury with a single touch.
As for why Maevis chose healing instead of destruction, I can only guess.
But I'm certain it wasn't kindness.
Healing people and turning them into loyal followers is far easier than killing them and making enemies.
As strange as her life already sounds, that isn't even the strangest part.
The real mystery is Yashiro.
Maevis supposedly had no family. Then one day she suddenly appeared with a little sister.
A girl who looks almost identical to her.
The main difference is their hair. Yashiro's long white hair falls perfectly straight. Maevis's curls are wild and unruly.
People have come up with all kinds of theories.
A long-lost sister. A daughter. A clone. A cousin. A look-alike. Even an alien.
Nobody actually knows.
All we know is that Yashiro appeared out of nowhere one day. Maevis resigned from her position as director of the Medicine and Science Department at Miracle Inc and enrolled both herself and her sister at Miracle Academy. Yashiro as a student. Herself as a teacher.
Which brings me back to the real problem.
How does she get away with torturing students?
Simple.
She heals whatever damage she causes.
She has two methods.
The first is straightforward. She releases healing spores from her fingertips. By touching an open wound she injects a large amount of nAG. I won't get into the biology, but it forces the body to regenerate damaged tissue.
The second method is less pleasant.
She secretes retinoic acid through her skin and saliva.
Disgusting, I know.
And yes, I know that from experience.
Whenever she calls me to her office, I can't help wondering which method she'll use to piece me back together afterward.
Personally, I hate the saliva method the most.
Not just the saliva itself.
The way she administers it.
She always goes mouth to mouth.
And whenever that happens, I can't stop thinking about Yashiro.
It sounds strange, but it makes sense when you remember how much they resemble each other.
More times than I can count I've had to stop myself from calling Maevis things like Yashiro Plus, Bigger Yashiro, Prime Yashiro, Adult Yashiro, and so on.
I'm very glad I've managed to stop myself every time.
If those words ever slipped out, I'd be dead.
And I'm not even sure which sister would do the killing.
I climb out of the trash pile and step onto the ledge beneath the staircase.
My uniform looks fine. No dirt. No damage.
Thank God.
If it got ruined there's no way I could replace it.
I lean down and sniff the fabric.
Damn. It stinks.
I smirk.
"Ah, what the hell. You guys said I smell like trash? Well now you get to smell literal trash all day long."
I start climbing the stairs, oddly satisfied.
Weird, maybe.
But when you're in my situation, you take whatever small victories you can find.
Otherwise you won't last very long here.
I reach the top of the stairs and step into the hallway.
Alright. Time for class.
I'll apologize to the demon, avoid making excuses, sit down quietly, and hope she ignores me.
Before I reach the classroom door, though, something occurs to me.
I was just lying in a pile of trash.
There might still be dirt on me.
I turn toward the bathroom instead. The last thing I want is to attract the demon's attention. Once she fixates on someone, she doesn't stop until she's finished.
I step inside and glance around.
Empty.
Good.
First I check my uniform in the mirror. That comes before anything else.
Still clean. No damage.
Relief loosens something in my chest.
Then I check myself. Mostly fine. A few scraps of trash tangled in my hair. I pull them free.
I look at my reflection.
My nose is bleeding. Probably from when Yashiro slapped me earlier.
I give a faint smile.
At least it isn't broken.
I wash the blood from my face and glance at my uniform again.
No stains.
Perfect.
My face doesn't matter. Wash it and that's it.
The uniform is another matter. If that got stained, I'd need professional cleaning. And I'd spend days coming to school with nothing decent to wear.
I sigh and stare at my reflection.
Alright.
Calm down.
Do exactly what you practiced. If I handle this right, there's a chance she'll let it go.
I leave the bathroom.
Still nervous, but steadier now.
I walk straight toward the classroom, stop in front of the door, and quietly mutter to myself.
"It's okay. You've got this."
"Yurui? What are you doing out here in the middle of class?"
A female voice calls from behind me.
My body freezes.
I'm too afraid to turn around.
Oh God.
If it's the demon, I'm finished.
I stand frozen in front of the classroom door, trembling like a leaf.