6 Chapter 3: School. Part 2.

"What's this commotion in the school?" thundered the voice of our drill serg... pardon, our teacher, from behind the crowd of surrounding students. Naturally, they quickly made way, revealing a pristine me and a panting Chan to the stern madam's view.

"There's no commotion, Chan was just showing me a few techniques. After all, he's training in Firebending," I said. Let this be a sort of olive branch extended to this clique.

"Hmm... Do you take me for a fool, Akimaru?" squinted the old witch, pinning me with a heavy gaze.

"No, of course not. He really was showing me techniques," I probably made my eyes too honest. I wouldn't have believed myself.

"Alright," she sighed, issuing her verdict after surveying the "training" spot, "don't be late for class; it's about to start."

Turning around, she walked back towards the entrance. Following her, a scowling Chan, without looking my way, brushed himself off and headed to class. His gang trailed behind him almost in single file.

Watching this scene with a raised eyebrow, I also headed to the classroom. So, history was next. I've read books, but honestly, they're just propaganda pamphlets, as everywhere. So, I hardly expect any truthful history, but it would be interesting to hear the details about the Air Nomads.

The classroom was almost empty, except for Chan and his cronies, who stared at me with slight frowns. Paying them little mind, I took my seat.

A few minutes later, all the kids gradually trickled into the auditorium and took their places. By the time the bell rang, everyone was present, and right after the third bell, the teacher walked in. She must have been waiting just outside the door.

"Today, we will discuss the history of the ancient tribes..."

Oh no, not this, even in the second grade, it starts from the very beginning. Ancient tribes mean the history of the continent-turtles, the era before the Avatar. It's an incredibly uninteresting history because it's so long ago, little of it has reached us, and the knowledge it imparts is virtually useless. Assumption upon assumption.

Well, let's hear about the turtles. I wonder if "continent-turtles" is just a figure of speech or if they actually believe it. Though in a world as crazy as this, there might well be turtles.

***

A year of enduring the boredom of education has passed. Just a few days ago, my first school year ended, and what can I say other than it was incredibly dull? Teachers just roll off me. I'm not called a genius yet, but I should start responding to "extremely smart lad."

And it led to nothing good. Not that it led to anything particularly bad, honestly. I couldn't blend in with the surroundings, so there was nothing to be done.

Ji never told anyone in the family that we had and continue to have pretty good squabbles. He and Chan took a dislike to me, and while they don't try to fight, they annoy me with petty things. They "joke" in a not so funny way, or somehow spoil my homework between lessons... they make a mess quite effectively, but it's not critical.

My newfound ability, or whatever it is, helps a lot with all this. The apathy and indifference I fell into at the beginning then unexpectedly kept crashing over me for a long time. Only the thought of my past life and my curiosity about what happened there saved me. It turned out that this curiosity started to significantly dampen my emotional responses. I practically didn't show any emotions. Only artificially.

This detachment was a serious issue, but I hadn't yet figured out what to do about it. At least my interest in my past life hadn't waned under the weight of this nonsense. Otherwise, my emotional range would have been on par with a log, if not less.

Along with this indifference in the face of "episodes," another trait began to emerge - I was taking everything too simply, literally. It sounds not bad until you realize that if, for instance, all the kids around me in the academy were to die right now, my everyday smile wouldn't falter. I'd probably feel sorry for the kids, but then I'd shrug it off as "such is life" or "it was their fate."

On the other hand, this isn't too bad, especially considering the upcoming events. After all, I'm not a heartless log. It's just that emotions and events are perceived lightly.

Honestly, it wasn't much different before. Even from fragments of memories from my past life. What would have shocked me before now would also be taken quite lightly, as with everything else. Though this is only in theory.

In short, my psychological cushion for perceiving the world has greatly expanded, but it hasn't changed my character.

Well, that's trivial; now my family and I are headed to the Coal Islands. Either I've misunderstood my family's status, or aristocrats really do have their plots there, but we have a pretty decent house where we'll be vacationing.

This trip was how my father and uncle decided to reward the older sons for their progress in Firebending. Where these achievements were, I couldn't tell, but they said so, so they must see something. As for me, everyone conveniently forgot. The last time anyone inquired about my studies was before my enrollment, when they decided to place me directly into the second year. Satisfied with their decision, my elder relatives left me to navigate school life on my own.

My father has become even colder towards me, though it seemed hardly possible. But he manages. Apparently, the achievements in Firebending of the older brother are indeed significant, and against his backdrop, I fade completely.

The vacation house on the resort islands was almost the same as on the main island. Except there were fewer steampunk devices and the architecture was lighter, so the buildings wouldn't look too massive and oppressive. After all, it's a resort. That's why the colors here were more subdued, the redness took a backseat, thank Agni, because only after arriving at this island did I realize how tired my eyes were from the red surroundings.

The ship brought us to the island, and then we walked to our residence. The servants began unpacking, and everyone split into pairs by interests. Uncle and father watched the older kids' attempts at doing something and tried to teach them, while mom and aunt sat and discussed something, occasionally giggling. And guess who was left to sit alone on the sand under a palm tree?

Well, I didn't mind. After all, it's nice to converse with an intelligent person. It's just a pity there were no books, and I couldn't bring any with me. I had absolutely nothing to do here.

It was almost evening, and the first day on this boring island was coming to an end, so I decided to leave my relatives, who had gathered around the campfire, and go explore. There was still plenty of time before dark, so I wasn't worried about getting lost.

During the day, as we sailed along the coast on the ship, I spotted a very interesting place: a wild beach. I mean, it was a beach not meant for people to relax because it was somewhat secluded from the estates of various individuals.

The sand was littered with all sorts of natural debris like branches, logs, and the like, and it was even somewhat dangerous to enter the water because the coastal area was not cleaned, and there could be anything. Though, of course, it's not as dangerous as it sounds. At worst, you might encounter some large fish, sharp corals, and debris, or maybe even Cthulhu. Just kidding.

Surprisingly, as I approached the beach, I noticed a lone small figure sitting on a rotting log near the water. Getting closer, I could see it was a girl. Yes, a girl about six years old.

Apparently, she was also one of the local aristocrats, as her appearance screamed exactly that. Do I even need to mention the black hair and refined facial features? Only the golden eyes stood out, looking at me with displeasure for the few seconds it took me to approach the stump.

"Hey, little one, why the long face?" I decided to catch her off guard and entertain myself a bit.

"I'm not little!" she exclaimed, squinting her eyes, but then she lost interest in me and stared at the water, "I'm just enjoying nature."

"Alright, I'll enjoy nature here with you then," I shrugged, it's her business after all, and sat down next to her on the rotting, fallen tree trunk. Who even dragged it to the shore? "Since it's incredibly boring at home."

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, the girl seemed to gather her thoughts and casually asked:

"What about your parents?"

"What about them? They're not very interested in me," I chuckled, "after all, I wasn't lucky enough to be born with a talent for bending... unlike my older brother. So, I'm just a placeholder in the name of my family. I'm not sure they even noticed I left."

The girl didn't respond to that comment, retreating into her thoughts. This time, more deeply, we sat in silence for a good half hour, during which the girl only reminded me she was alive through her breathing.

"I too," she whispered barely audibly, "am not sure anyone noticed I left."

What could I say to that? In response, I just put an arm around the girl, trying to offer some support. She initially froze like a statue at my touch, a look of confusion on her face, but it quickly passed, replaced by a slight satisfaction and a hint of panic. And no, I hadn't suddenly become a master at reading facial expressions; it's just that this sweet girl's emotions were so vividly displayed on her face, her thoughts were as clear as day.

It seems to be quite a problem, and the child is clearly lacking tactile contact. A common issue among many aristocratic children. Each compensates for it in their own way. And then they grow up into people who can't express attachment, and their children turn out the same. The wheel of Samsara, indeed.

"I wonder what they all, led by the Fire Lord, expect from this generation if almost everyone I meet is somehow traumatized or improperly raised."

"The Fire Lord always has a plan!" the girl suddenly perked up, her hands twitching expressively and her eyes blazing with righteous indignation as she stared at me.

"Maybe," I said in a conciliatory tone. She's too young to understand that what she said is nothing more than an oxymoron, but she reacted quite sharply anyway; I should change the subject, "Anyway, what's your name? We've been talking for so long and still haven't learned this basic fact about each other."

At what seemed like an innocent question, fear flashed in the girl's eyes for a second, then anger, and then determination mixed with slyness.