A/N: Before we get started, I would like to say that this story is acting as a smaller side project to a larger, illustrated Odin Sphere fanfic that I will be posting to AO3. As such, it's more meant to be simplistic and sweet rather than large and epic. Ha, it's almost what you'd hope for when it comes to Ingway and Mercedes, right?
Okay, that's enough for now. I hope you enjoy this first chapter!
There was something awfully awkward about the whole situation. Or maybe Mercedes was just incredibly nervous.
The tips of her fingers gently pressed against the door of Room 218 and she began to push it slowly. She was a little worried that it had been left ajar because the teacher was out doing afterschool errands of some sort, but the rustling of papers told her that, yes, Mr. Krois was there. A slight wave of a relief came over her, but it was only slight and nothing more.
Really, why did her mother insist on asking this old man about some mysterious club that wasn't even affiliated with the school? If her "sources" from Parent's Night were correct, it probably didn't even exist.
With the door open wide enough, Mercedes quietly slipped inside. Almost immediately, she found herself close to sneezing and struggled to prevent herself from doing so. Was this a classroom or someone's personal study? Quickly, Mercedes noticed the papers sticking out of the filing cabinets, the crooked posters on the walls, and the old and worn carpet. Ugh, so Mr. Krois' students were those kind of students.
"Oh, hello," a slightly feeble and withered voice piped up. "Don't mind the mess. My students do a better job of keeping the room clean than I do."
Supposed sarcasm aside, Mercedes turned her head to the bald, elderly man who sat at the desk in the back, which was the worst offender of this room in terms of clutter. The old man, presumably Mr. Krois, glanced up from his papers and tilted his head slightly while adjusting spectacles that were far from modern. Mercedes shifted uncomfortably as he leaned forward and squinted at her, his mouth twisting slightly in a frown.
"I don't think I've seen you before, young lady," he said sitting back in his chair. Mercedes looked down, noticing for the first time that she was crinkling the fabric of her white trench coat jacket.
"I, um…" she looked back up and shook her head. "It's okay. I moved from another town over the summer. And, uh…" the other part was embarrassing. Mr. Krois, while seemingly curious, also appeared rather patient and waited for her to speak.
Mercedes' eyes squeezed shut. "I mean if I had been attending this school last year, I would have graduated with last year's class, so…um…"
Krois waved his hand. "I think I understand, Miss…?"
"Mercedes," Mercedes replied. "Mercedes Vaughan."
Krois chuckled as he marked down another grade on his papers. He seemed…nice. He was a lot nicer than Mercedes' gym teacher, Mr. Brigan, at any rate. He had completely ignored the notice from the Nurse's office and made her do the same number of laps as the other students anyway.
Her shoulders relaxed and she approached Krois' desk, albeit cautiously. Krois glanced up as she pulled a chair over from a desk and sat down in front of him.
"Well, Mercedes, I'm glad to meet you," he said. "How does it feel to be the oldest and newest in your class?"
"Awkward…" Mercedes' lip twitched. "And a bit lonely. That's why I came here."
There was a snort from Mr. Krois. "If you're looking for friends to hang out with, you came to the wrong person. I'm just a silly old teacher grading papers."
Mercedes shrunk back in her chair. This was already turning out to be a bad idea. "No, I don't mean… My mom said that…um…" She inhaled sharply. Keep your composure Mercedes, keep it. "According to my mom, you might know about a club that I could join. The so-called Creative Symphony?"
The mention of the club caused Krois to pause with his pen hovering over the paper. Mercedes' pulse was throbbing like a rabbit's now. Did she say something wrong? Maybe she was talking to the wrong person, or maybe…
"Mm, that group, ha ha…" Krois shook his head as he began to write again. "Two students from my homeroom and one of my history classes are a part of that club. They're twins, in fact…"
He put down his pen and laced his bony, withered fingers atop his desk, his eyes twinkling as he leaned upon his desk. "So, the Creative Symphony has caught your attention enough that you want to try joining it, eh?"
Her cheeks heated up in a bright red flush and Mercedes' lips curved in a moue. "My mom wants me to join it! You know…because a small, secretive club like that probably has members who like being close and I need new friends…"
"Don't you have old ones from your old town?" Krois asked.
Mercedes shoulders tensed again and she examined her hands resting on her lap. They were bone white from gripping her jacket so much. Tilting her head up, she caught Krois scratching at his beard.
"Well, it'll be up to them if they want you to join seeing as the club isn't affiliated with the school. They're more like one of those self-published bands if you get what I'm saying…" he grunted as leaned over in his chair and reached into his bag, retrieving a black cell phone. Mercedes mused that she hadn't seen a flip phone in ages as he popped it open and grumbled to himself. "Let me see, my daughter, my boss…ah! Ingway!"
He picked up his pen and wrote a set of numbers on a slip of paper before closing his phone and holding the paper to Mercedes. The girl hesitated for a moment, fingers twitching as she gingerly took the paper from him and looked at the phone number written on it.
"He would prefer it if you texted him," Krois leaned forward with his hand cupped near his mouth. "I dunno why, but it's the same with his sister, too."
Mercedes gulped.
Hello! My name is Mercedes and I'm interested in joining the Creative Symphony! Could you please please please send me a text back soon? I promise I don't bite!
Did that sound too peppy and needy? Maybe it sounded too peppy and needy. But the last one sounded far too awkward to be sent, too. What kind of person was Ingway, anyway? Mr. Krois hadn't said anything about that.
Mercedes let out a heavy groan while bouncing slightly where she sat on her bed, the springs in the mattress creaking slightly. The alarm clock on her nightstand read 9:34 and if she didn't hurry, this guy would asleep before he had a chance to reply back. Well, if he replied back. Maybe the club was exclusive to people with certain looks or who were in a certain clique…
Matthew the cat meowed loudly from his spot on top of her closed laptop. Mercedes gave him what her mother described as her "frog face."
"First off, get off my computer," she snapped. "Second of all, that's not very nice."
Matthew let out a yowl before settling his head back down. Mercedes placed her phone against the temple of her head and fell back against her stuffed toys. She glanced back at the draft text and sighed before deleting it. This was hopeless and dumb.
The door to her bedroom opened and head with a mop of spiky, bone white hair poked into the room. Mercedes bolted up at the sight of Oswald and quickly hid her phone in her pocket.
"I need a pencil," Oswald's voice was in monotone. "I forgot to buy another set while I was out today."
Mercedes gestured to her desk and Oswald walked over, taking a moment to politely toss Matthew off her desk. The cat meowed loudly in protest, with Oswald barely giving a passing glance as he plucked a pencil from the can on the desk. Mercedes wiggled until Oswald was at the door, where he paused and glanced up at the ceiling.
"…Eh, I'll introduce him on the weekend," he shrugged before leaving with Matthew trotting behind him. Once he was out, Mercedes heaved a sigh before letting her eyes travel to the cork board hanging on the wall behind her headboard.
Countless photographs were pinned to the board, ranging from birds and frogs to scenery of mountains, beaches, and meadows. What was missing from the board, however, were the pictures of the people she had taken. There were so many spots where photos used hang that were now empty. The one or two exceptions were photos of her mother and her cousin, Melvin.
Bitterly, Mercedes put a hand over her heart as a lump formed in her throat. "This is your entire fault," she said lying down and rolling over. "If you hadn't decided to act up, I wouldn't be in this mess."
Her eyes closed and she could just…remember hearing everyone in the park screaming as her head became light and she felt her chest tighten in pain before she passed out.
"Cardiac arrhythmia," the doctor had said in a matter-of-fact voice as her informed her of what happened. "It's the collective name for various conditions where the heartbeat either beats too fast, too slow, or irregularly."
"And everyone left after they realized I was different," her fingers curled into a fist. "Woe is me, Miss Arrhythmia girl."
Her mom had always told her that it was best to look forward and survey the path ahead, but it was hard when her condition was serious and her life expectancy was a little less than average because of it. And how was she supposed to move forward if there weren't people to lift her up if she stumbled? Or maybe she was too reliant.
The clock on the desk ticked towards 9:45. Mercedes thought a little more about this friendship dilemma. She didn't want to make friends because she was afraid that they would leave her…but she still wanted friends. She said it to Mr. Krois herself. It was awkward and lonely not having anyone to talk to.
Do you want friends? Or do you not want friends? Do you think it's worthwhile to worry about them leaving you now or later?
She exhaled sharply before sitting up and taking her phone out again. Carefully, she typed out a message to Ingway, biting her lower lip as her message came to be.
Hello, my name is Mercedes Vaughan. I transferred to your school and will be graduating with this year's class because I was held back due to an illness. Is it possible that I can join the Creative Symphony? Thank you.
Her thumb hovered over the send button for a moment before she pressed it.
10:00 came and went. Soon, it was 10:15. She really ought to go to bed now.
Just as Mercedes got up to get her pajamas on, her phone vibrated. The girl snagged her phone from her bed and found that her messages had one new notification. She clicked it open.
Oh, you're that new girl that some of the kids in my class were chatting about. The one who's older than the other students? I'm also graduating this year, so I suppose we're equals so long as you don't treat me like an idiotic child.
Before I say yes to your request, I have a question. What do you do for a creative outlet? It could be music, dance, drawing, etc…
Mercedes blinked slowly. A creative outlet…She typed and sent her reply as quickly as possible.
Does photography count?
There was a two minute wait before she got a reply back.
Naturally.
Look, if you're really interested in joining us, all you have to do is meet us in Mr. Hindel's Book Emporium after school tomorrow and we'll go from there. Now, if you'll excuse me, some people hate to procrastinate when it comes to homework and I happen to be one of them. Good night.
Mercedes' cheeks puffed out. What a rude meanie. At least he had given her a time of day.