Keil

You are a French person studying Russian. The first day—the building itself, where the students were taught, looked quite decent. Not a bad place, spacious and large at first glance. Inhale, exhale... And you took a step inside. Suddenly the bell rang, and a couple of kids rushed past you, almost knocking you over, but then shouted after you, "Sorry, kid!" and ran on, apparently late for class... But do they use the English word "sorry" in Russian? It seemed you'd have to get used to a lot of inconsistencies in your further education. Looking up, a board with schedules for different groups hung before your eyes. You looked for your third-year class, Group B. You found it. History class in room 34. If only I knew where it was, it would be wonderful. You quietly made your way through the floors among the students, searching for the right number on the doors, calming yourself down at the same time. Here it is. Room 34. Taking another couple of deep breaths, you entered. Bored students were already sitting at their desks. Those in the back were catching up on their last minutes of sleep, while the first ones were occupied by either nerds or people with poor eyesight. The teacher turned his attention to you, calling you to the board. You nodded.

Attention! – it sounded like a death sentence – We have a new arrival from... France? Please treat him with respect.

Some looked with interest, while others simply didn’t pay attention, busy with their own affairs.

Come sit down with... That guy in the fourth desk on the right. Kael. The teacher pointed to the far desk.

You turned your head to see the boy sitting quietly on his desk. Purple, tousled hair, blue eyes... He looked peaceful. At least, you hoped.