5 Chapter 3: School. Part 1.

"So, introduce yourself," the teacher said dryly when my father (I'll remember this, the bastard) practically pushed me into the class.

"Akimaru, son of Jiro," I said, and performed the traditional gesture. Fist and palm.

"Pleased to meet you, Akimaru," the teacher nodded briefly, "you can take a seat in the third row."

The class, literally, the second desk. I had planned to quietly slip to the back desks and stay there unnoticed. Well, okay then.

"Now, children. Let's recite the Fire Nation oath."

All the kids stood up as one and turned to the opposite wall, where there was a huge portrait of Azulon.

"I give my life to my people," the students began to recite the oath or whatever it was, standing in a traditional bow.

"With bare hands, I will fight for the Fire Lord," geez, do I have to learn this nonsense? It doesn't even rhyme!

For a couple more minutes, everyone continued to recite the oath text while I just opened my mouth, occasionally saying something when the text repeated. You know that feeling when you know the chorus of a song but not the song itself? It was like that here.

After this far from cheerful act, the kids sat down and stared at the teacher. She dignifiedly nodded and began to speak:

"Let's start with a philosophy test. Write this down. A Fire Nation Warrior's enemies stole his weapon. As known, enemies always lie. A captured enemy claimed that he stole the weapon. Is he guilty of the theft?"

Wow, just wow. What's this? Where's the "there were four apples, two were taken, how many are left?" What's this?

I might have underestimated the school. Second grade, and such questions. Even I'll have to scratch my head for five minutes before answering. And it's not bragging, remember - I'm a reincarnated adult with adult thinking, probably with some education.

Though maybe I'm overestimating a bit. This kind of problem doesn't require much counting ability or knowledge on how to solve it. It's all on basic logic, with a touch of propaganda. So, we know that the enemy always lies. Therefore, if he really stole the weapon, he told the truth, which cannot be. Hence, he did not steal the weapon and lied.

"Next, write this down... You'll solve it later. First, let's write it down. Three Fire Nation Warriors came to the Fire Lord asking him to decide who among them is the strongest.

The first warrior said, 'I am the strongest.'

The second warrior said, 'The first is not the strongest.'

The third warrior said, 'I am the strongest.'

The first warrior said, 'The third warrior is not the strongest.'

The second warrior said, 'I am the strongest.'

The Lord assumed that all the arguments of the strongest warrior are true, and all statements of the other two are false. Did the Lord make a decision on who is the strongest warrior?"

Alright... the problems are indeed childish. But at least this is a bit more fun than if there were just elementary mathematical examples.

"That's all. You have half an hour to solve these problems, so I can make sure you haven't lost the remnants of your brains over the summer," said the charming woman, "and then we will proceed with the lesson."

Well, writing down the answers took no more than a couple of minutes. Most of that time was spent on the actual writing, since I'm only practicing calligraphy.

And then I sat quietly. I didn't want to submit or say that I was done. The others around me are still children, not teenagers, so problems can be avoided, and therefore I won't provoke the situation. After all, a year isn't really that big of a difference.

Somewhere, six and seven-year-olds were taught in the same class just fine. The only problem here is that I'm the only one who's six, and not long ago at that. Everyone else is already seven, some even eight. If you say it's not critical, I'll look at you in a few years. Thirteen and fifteen - that's very critical in my book.

But that's okay.

And my plan was going smoothly; I sat watching the gloomy and desperate faces of the other children, but apparently, I got too carried away.

"Akimaru," a voice said next to me just as I turned away to look at another silly face, "it seems you have nothing to do? Perhaps your parents were too hasty in sending you directly to the second year," with those words, this harpy grabbed the paper on which (almost) calligraphically written were my answers and the explanations of how I arrived at them, "let's see if you did anything?"

Damn her, I take back my words; she's as good a teacher as a bullet is made of shit. If all their teachers here are like this, no wonder all the firebenders in the canon were somewhat problematic. You come out of school with such complexes, better to stay dumb as a rock.

"Hm, all correct," the teacher stated, trying to hide her surprise, "why didn't you submit it as soon as you were done?"

"Checking," I said with what was apparently an open smile.

What an old hag. May she be given sour milk for her malice. Bitch. May she be served salt in her tea instead of sugar for life. Whatever.

"Your parents were right to send you directly to the second year. Maybe even higher would have been appropriate, your achievements in logic and calligraphy are very good for your age... unlike some," the teacher graced what in her mind, apparently, was a compliment.

And now I can literally feel a few glares shooting daggers at my back. And there's a clear feeling that one of them is my cousin, whom this old woman so actively hinted at. He's not doing well in his studies.

Well, let's see how things go in this wonderful kingdom named after a clumsy educator. Or maybe a skilled one? After all, the Fire Nation and humanism are somewhat different things, and this might be a very clear approach of the school: if you show off, prove you're worthy.

After some time, the teacher walked through the rows and collected everything, sometimes snatching papers from hands - some students wanted to add last-minute answers.

Ji's paper was smudged with inkblots, and there were hardly any answers. What was there could hardly be called correct. The same was true for several others sitting at the back. They had a little gathering there.

It was clear nothing serious, just kids, but they were already capable of bothering other children.

During the break, after the math lesson, which did happen, and I learned what multiplication in columns was, these kids decided to approach me. They stood in a small procession opposite my desk, with Chan stepping forward as the leader of this gang and started spouting some nonsense:

"Hey, newbie," a rather sturdy boy with some handsome features beginning to show said, leading the group, "I'm Chan, son of Chan," the boy introduced himself. It was clear now he was the local "authority"; after all, only the royal family ranked higher than Admiral Chan, — "why didn't you stand up to greet your brother when the lesson ended?"

"Why should I?" I asked, shifting my gaze to Ji, who was smirking maliciously.

"Because I said so," Chan immediately got angry, even stamping his foot.

Clearly, mastering firebending means transitioning to active use of fire in forms. Unstable behavior, mood swings. Well, at least that's what the book says. Something tells me it's more about the act of using bending itself. Plus, apparently, a slight sense of permissiveness.

Or maybe it's just childish mood swings.

De jure, all aristocrats have equal rights, and if I hit him in the eye, we would be considered equals by the law, de facto, however, he's the son of Admiral Chan, as I mentioned, only the imperial family ranks above him, and I'm the second son of a middle-tier aristocratic family's head's brother. Plus, the main heir after Chan, apparently, also decided to demean me a bit.

The conclusion is simple - fighting is not an option. And who said I could? After all, unlike them, I wasn't taught anything.

"Well, it doesn't matter what anyone says," I shrugged, "am I supposed to listen to everyone now?"

"You must greet your older brother as is proper," Chan continued to insist, "after all, he is your future leader."

"Firstly, the key word is 'future' - we have the same rights and obligations for now, and secondly, this is our family matter," I continued with the same light smile.

"Do what I said!" Chan slammed his hands on my desk.

"No."

"Watch your back," the kid hissed through clenched teeth.

And this is our future... and I'm getting the feeling that his father isn't much better, probably looking at this as "let him learn to lead people."

"You shouldn't have done that," whispered the boy sitting at the desk next to me, "that's Chan, the son of that Admiral Chan."

"So what, am I supposed to bow down to him?" I snorted, "let him catch up first. By the way, you can call me Aki."

"I gathered that," the slightly chubby boy still whispered, suppressing a laugh, "and the second one, Ji, is he your brother?"

"Cousin. Yes, and it doesn't really affect anything, our family relations have never been particularly warm."

"Uh-huh," Yoshi nodded sadly, presumably recalling his own family.

"Alright, I'm going to check out the courtyard," I stood up, casually ending the conversation.

"What? Chan will be waiting for you there," Yoshi's eyes widened, sharing his own experience.

"Well, let him wait," I smiled.

There's a very strange confidence in my abilities. It's foolish, if you think about it - older kids can easily beat me up, especially those who train, and no adult consciousness will help, but as soon as I stepped outside, a certain feeling settled inside me and hasn't dissipated. All problems seem trivial. Even if they beat me up, so what? For some reason, Chan's pressure triggered some inexplicable detachment in me.

With these thoughts, I stepped into the local garden for teenagers. The garden, situated in the crater of an extinct volcano, is symbolically named but serves as a place for schoolchildren to enjoy the fresh air. And of course, Chan, Ji, and a couple of other kids were waiting for me there, immediately surrounding me.

"So, are you going to properly greet your future leader and his friends now?" sneered the kid who goes by Chan.

"Nope," I replied simply, mentally taking their words and the fact that I was about to get beaten up very lightly. From an outside perspective, you could say I was "in the clouds."

"Fine, it's your fault then," Chan lunged forward, trying to hit me.

And he missed. Again and again. I easily dodged each strike by merely shifting slightly off the trajectory. I didn't even touch Chan, nor did I move much. His punches were so clearly telegraphed that dodging them was elementary. I wasn't even trying hard, still as if not fully present, I watched everything too detachedly, despite being the one in action.

At a certain point, it even became absolutely boring. I was so indifferent to everything around me that it's indescribable. A complete lack of emotions and even a shred of interest in life. Out of a desire to end this tedious activity, ideas on how to make Chan back off for good started to come to mind.

And that's when I started to realize something was off. Despite this confusion, the feeling of indifference didn't pass and was actually very frightening, yet I was absolutely indifferent to what was happening. What the hell? Continuing to dodge a now exhausted Chan.

I began to desperately recall anything that would evoke emotions in me. What nonsense. And, listing more and more of my life, I realized with a non-existent horror that nothing in this life really grabbed me.

So, what, the world decided to "rebirth me" or something?

It's a bit early for that; I haven't even found out what my previous life was! And after this thought, I felt a spark of interest and resentment. I was very upset that I had forgotten, and very curious about WHAT I had actually forgotten.

From the emotions that stirred, it felt like a corset around my chest had been loosened, and I could breathe deeply, savoring the sweet scent of oxygen. The world around me brightened, the greyness seemed to drain away in an instant, the chirping of some stray bird reached my ears, as did the other noises of the crowd around, which watched the kids' scuffle with excitement.

Phew, feels good, doesn't it?

Chan, tired and sweating, stood opposite me, hands on his knees, glaring at me. The glare wasn't very intimidating; he's still too young, but he glared nonetheless.

And me, not tired, not sweating, stood opposite, seemingly lost in thought to everyone else, just beginning to look around at the crowd.

But that's okay, I'm not too bothered by it, I'll survive this "popularity."

What bothers me, damn it, is what was that with my feelings?

Dear readers soon there will be a patreon who will want to support us and read the chapters much earlier than here (spoiler there will be 15+ chapters more than free access). I remind you of 300 power stones and we are laying out additional chapters and we will release the chapters for the reviews tomorrow.