ʀᴇɢᴀɪɴ ᴏꜰ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴛᴇ

Musutafu, Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan

The first days of summer are sultry heat — it is difficult to breathe, both outdoors and indoors. Although the rainy season in this region usually begins at this time, this year turned out to be particularly dry, despite the fact that forecasters predicted severe thunderstorms and winds next week.       The beginning of June is outside the window, which means that there is a month and a half left until the end of the first trimester. Literally every person in UA, be it a student or a teacher, medical staff or a simple handyman, was overwhelmed with work: preparing training grounds; exam grounds; preparing places for taking written exams; preparing students for the exams themselves, a lot of paper routine and, plus, improving and strengthening security systems in connection with with the latest event — the terrorist attack at the New York Heroic Academy “Bellators”. There are casualties among students and civilians       Although it was not fully covered, and the Japanese media practically did not get it, but every director of such academies was aware of this and took action.       The room had a gloomy atmosphere, despite such a bright sun outside the window, and the air conditioner did not seem to cool down, but on the contrary only heated up the situation with its quiet rustling with air supply.       The tarnished, almost glassy gaze of a very tall foreigner was riveted on the paws of the director, who was carefully examining the documents that he had brought. Maybe the guy looked detached and even indifferent in some ways, but in fact he could barely contain the trembling in his body, folding his sweaty cold palms into a lock. “Keep your cool…”       “Young man,” Director Nezu took a deep breath, putting the papers aside a little, straightening up and leaning his elbows on the edge of the table, attracting the attention of the future recruit. “I think you are aware that the school year in Japan begins in April, and now it is June… In fact, you missed the first trimester.       “Yes… I know this and…”       “Mortego-san, I cannot be sure that you will be able to learn all the material from the beginning of the year, even despite your recommendation from Bellators.” the head closed his eyes, exhaling. “And, also, I think that you are aware of the difference between the presentation of the material and its quantity. Anyway, the fact remains that Bellators is in second place after UA.”       “Yes, I understand that the second year of study has already started in Japan, and the first one has barely ended at Bellators.” the green-eyed young man closed his eyes, quieting the trembling, clenching his hands and jaw tighter. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not ready to give my all 1000 out of 100 to get into the second trimester at UA.” despite the terrible excitement and the spectrum of background feelings that corroded his soul, the guy’s voice sounded, though forced, but firm. The interest in the animal’s eyes flashed noticeably, but he still maintained his distance and was restrained. Anyway, it’s important now to test the guy’s determination and his knowledge of Japanese, despite what he had to go through just two weeks ago.       At this moment, there was a pause, which seemed to be eternal, while the head of the academy carefully and thoughtfully surveyed the long-haired pale brown-haired man with his gaze.       “Why do you want to transfer to UA?”       For a second, the guy flinched, abruptly taking a short breath and holding his breath.       “I didn’t really want to…”       This kind of question took him by surprise, but he was clearly expecting it, though a little later and probably in a softer way, and not like a bullet in the forehead. “Keep your cool… You came up with the answer in advance, so say something!”       “I’m…” his voice faltered for a second and the recruit stammered, swallowing. “I want to… I’m sticking to my goal, no matter what…” the brown-haired man no longer looked at the director, but somewhere to the right, losing control of his facial expression for a second, and then shuddered and shook his head a little, frowning and concentrating, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep from crying, and looked at the animal again. “He’s probably checking me out. Hmm, for mental injuries?”       “Well, that’s commendable.” Nezu noticed while rubbing the scar on his eye. “I also had a very unpleasant episode in my life, as you may have noticed. Wool has not grown in this place, but this does not make me any less cute and does not reduce my professional skills and pedagogical aspirations. I really appreciate the same in others.” The director smiled, taking out two cups and a teapot from under the table, pouring hot tea over them.       “The way he deftly jumps from topic to topic, the directors really have something in common… Is he sincere now, or is he trying to soften the previous question?” Mortego’s slightly puzzled gaze fell on the cups, while a premonition suggested that he would stay here longer than he would like.       ”…Arigato, Nezu-sama.” The corner of his lips lifted slightly, although the question was still unresolved inside, and there was not even a hint of its resolution! Is his candidacy even being considered for admission or not? Is there even a chance?       The director, having finished manipulating the tea, handed it to the guy with two paws, while he took the cup a little embarrassedly with a slight bow and polite gratitude for such cordiality. Returning to his chair, the head exhaled, not taking his eyes off the young man.       “This is the May Sencha. In fact, it’s even a little soothing. Try it, it has a special taste.”       “Thank you…” after a short pause, Mortego smiled a little and took a sip of a tart drink with a vegetable flavor, noting that it was dark dark green. “It really has a special taste.”       “So, let’s continue,” taking a sip and setting the mug aside, Nezu picked up the document again. “Your former class teacher’s name is,” the animal stopped looking at the name written in hieroglyphs, pausing. “Ruther Schutakke-ru-be-rug?” the head was reading almost syllabically into the long foreign name of the teacher while the guy was slightly choking on tea from the funny Japanese pronunciation. And coughing into his fist, he nodded positively, not even paying attention to how Nezu abruptly changed the subject again.       “Yes, Luther Stackelberg.”       “Did he make a recommendation for you?”       “After the terrorist attack, he lost an arm and a leg. Luther-sensei is in the hospital now, so the recommendation was written by the headmistress herself.”       Nezu froze for a few seconds.       “How is his condition?”       “Stable, students of the 2nd and 3rd faculties are already developing prosthetics for him, since it was not possible to save his limbs.” an empty look, looking at his reflection in a green liquid and a calm but very sad voice made the head scroll through the information received in his head once again and realize the scale of what happened.       There was another pause.       “Are you sure you can learn everything by the second trimester?”       The guy almost jumped on the spot from this question, which gives hope for admission.       “Yes!” The brown-haired man put the cup on the table and looked into the eyes of the animal. “I’m ready to learn and do whatever it takes.”       “Well,” the director sighed deeply, folding the sheets into a pile and stapling them together with a stapler. “Mortego-san, you are already 17 years old and you speak Japanese well, and you are also able to write in it without mistakes.” the animal crossed its paws and slightly furrowed its eyebrows, closing its eyes. “You are the 22nd person who wants to transfer from Bellators.”       Another awkward pause.       “And…?” the guy was a little puzzled by the last obviously unfinished sentence.       “And I’m sure you won’t be the last…”       It seems that the young man understood what the head of the other academy was driving at.       “If you mean that not everyone will pass in the second semester, because the UA has its own selection, then I know that. I am also ready for such a scenario.” resolutely and firmly, as he cut off, the brown-haired man said, while for the first time in half an hour of staying in this office, at least some kind of thirst for life flashed in his eyes. “Damn, did he put a sedative in his tea? And it really doesn’t shake that much anymore…”       “Exams will be held for you to the fullest extent, as well as reports on the material you have passed. I wish you success, Mortego-san.” the director smiled, opening his eyes and looking at the guy as he stood up and bowed to him.       “Domo arigato! I am very grateful to you, Nezu-sama.”       “You can address me as Nezu-sensei. Three people have applied for the hero faculty, I think two will pass, including you.” the head’s smile did not leave his face as he pulled the cup of tea towards him again, taking a short sip after sip.       “Y-yes, Sensei! I will not disappoint your expectations.”       “I’ll notify the teachers about another recruit, but in the meantime, rest for a couple of days, the move probably wasn’t easy.”       “Y-yes, sensei!”       The guy stayed in the office for another 10 minutes discussing small things before he could leave him after finishing his tea.       “I really calmed down a bit for some reason. It would be necessary to call Luther and say that everything went well, he can move his left hand,” going down the stairs and walking down the corridor, the brown-haired man already took out his phone, choosing the right contact with aching chest pain, closing the gallery, which he reflexively pointed at earlier. Pausing briefly, rubbing his eyes and deliberately not looking, scrolling through the first contacts alphabetically, he found the right one: Luter-Olo’eiktan — the corners of his lips crept up from memories of how this meme and nickname for the class teacher were born, and how they forced him to watch the movie “Avatar” with their jokes. A lump formed in his throat, it hurt so much that the guy could barely breathe and see the screen through the tears.       Closing his eyes and brushing away the salty drops with his fingers, he nevertheless took a deep breath and looked at the phone again on the exhale, forcing himself to think about something else. And it worked out.       “Stop! It’s a different country. How much time difference is there?” With a quick swipe of his finger, he brushed the contacts aside and stared at the desktop where, among the applications, there were two widgets with the time of America and Japan. “Mmm, I’m still getting used to the new time format. That’s disgusting… 14 hours… it’s already 17:53 in Japan now… So, 17:53 — 14 hours = …? It’s in America somewhere 3:53… it’s almost 4 a.m. Damn, it’s very early. So I’ll just leave a message that everything is fine” walking down an empty corridor, which finally ended and the fresh evening air blew over his face. “Yes… and write to Yarena… and to the general chat…” the guy quickly clicked on the screen with his thumbs, typing messages in English and barely managed to send it to the chat of the former class, taking his eyes off the screen, as…

~☽︎∞☾︎~

      The three months before September were… hot. The guy did his best and with all his convolutions caught up with what he had missed and even tried to capture the material that the students were going through during lessons, sitting at their desks at the academy. not to mention that he was getting used to the new time zone, which is why his regime had to be built in a new way. And on weekends, he used to come to the teachers' house, hand over what he had done and receive portions of homework, apologizing for causing unnecessary work even after hours. But, was it only four times? Basically, he came to the academy every day or every two days in the evening, after all the lessons and training, found the right teacher and handed over the material to him in writing and orally.       And so, closer to September, this cyclical vicious circle of homework and sleepless nights broke. It remains to bring the last two folders for Ectoplasm and Shota. These 120 sheets, arranged in order and according to the color of the stickers, covered with neat, diligent hieroglyphs — this is especially important because he is a foreigner (despite the fact that he is a half—breed Japanese), who wrote in English before he was translated into UA, and now writes in a mixed in hieroglyphs and kana.       “Oh, gods, how tired I am,” yawning, covering his mouth with his hand, slightly stooping, the guy walked down the corridor, while his hair, braided in a thick, very large braid, almost dragged the tips on the floor. Yes, by September they had grown a hell of a lot, obviously it was some kind of emotional side effect of the quirk. Mortego opened his eyes slightly and looked at his reflection in the glass: hanging hair that had escaped from the braid, the same faded green sad eyes, only now there are also darkish bags under them, betraying fatigue and long lack of sleep, pale skin… “Well, just like a corpse, one more cup of coffee and you can bury.” The corners of his lips lifted in a grin at such self—irony.       It was the last almost sleepless night — August 18 — of the deadline for this “correspondence course”. Everything is passed, all the material is learned, there are two whole weeks to rest and finally get enough sleep without worrying about anything and not shaking for every minute. All that remains is to hand over these perfectly arranged records in two folders. This makes it easier for the soul that the guy already closed his eyes, exhaled and straightened up.       “And September 1-2 to the hostel… Oh… and again studying and textbooks. In any case, it will be easi-” the guy didn’t even have time to think, how someone crashed into him. All the contents of one of the folders, in particular the folder for Ectoplasm, over which he sweated the longest, spilled out and scattered on the floor. These are the entries arranged in order…       THESE.       ARE.       THE.       ENTRIES.       ARRENGED.       IN.       ORDER.       Whoever it is is going to die now.       “Gomennasa-!”       “I’m going to… turn you inside out.” Softly, but clearly, through clenched teeth in anger, the minted words made a chill creep down Iida’s back. He hurriedly ran down the corridor and collided with a recruit, and from his heavy gaze of green eyes and pupils that glowed bright red, he slightly compressed his lips, because the two-meter tired brown-haired man in front of him is furious…