"You're going to school."
"What? Why?" I exclaimed, bewildered.
It's been about eleven years since I was born into this world, and during that time, I've spent countless hours buried in history books, absorbing as much knowledge as I could about this new land. From what I gathered, education in this nation is hard to come by. Unlike other countries, where education is a priority, this place holds tradition above all else. Ever since the nation closed itself off from the rest of the world, the opportunities for formal learning became even rarer. I had assumed I'd never set foot in a classroom.
Apparently, I was wrong.
"I can't have a member of the shrine be uneducated," the fox spirit declared, her tone sharp but decisive.
"Uneducated? I'm plenty smart already! Why do I need school?"
"If you're so confident in your abilities, then school should be easy, no?"
Damn this fox… she always knows how to corner me.
"Anyway," she continued, ignoring my protests, "I've already enrolled you in a private school. I won't take 'no' for an answer."
"That's not fair!" I shot back, but my words fell on deaf ears.
"Well then, off you go now, child," she said with finality, handing me a bag filled with clothes as if shooing me away.
With that, I was dismissed. There was no escaping this. I sighed in resignation. How hard could school really be? This world wasn't all that different from an older, less modern Japan. Surely, I could handle it. As I was mulling over my thoughts, one of the shrine maidens approached and handed me a small pouch filled with snacks.
"How kind," I thought. It's always the fox who's cruel.
The academy I was to attend was in a city near Inazuma. I wasn't unfamiliar with the place—I'd visited a few times before, so navigating its streets was easy enough. It was probably why no one bothered to accompany me.
As I entered the city, I was greeted by the usual lively scene. Though not large, Inazuma had an energy that made it feel much more vibrant. The chatter of merchants bartering in the market stalls, the bustle of townsfolk running errands, and the sight of adventurers coming and going filled the air.
Yes, adventurers—just like in fantasy novels. They took on jobs ranging from simple deliveries to dangerous beast hunts. Honestly, I found the idea of joining them intriguing. From what I'd heard, the minimum age for adventurers in this world was fourteen, just a few years away for me.
But for now, my destination was the Yae Publishing House. Apparently, that fox owned a publishing company in the city—a fact I found hard to believe. Still, it was thanks to her that I had access to so many books for self-study. I had to admit, for all her harshness, I was grateful.
The plan was to meet one of her acquaintances there, who would guide me to the academy. Even though the city wasn't too big, searching for the academy on my own would take forever, and I wasn't keen on wandering aimlessly.
When I arrived at the publishing house, I was greeted by a familiar face—a somewhat plump man with a cheerful smile. He was one of the writers that worked for the fox, and we exchanged polite greetings before he led me toward the academy.
The academy was larger than I expected. Situated in the heart of the city, the sprawling campus featured three main buildings arranged in a U-shape, each one towering at least two stories high. According to the plump uncle, the buildings corresponded to different years of study, and students typically spent three years here, completing their education by the time they turned fourteen. Fourteen seemed to be an important age in this world—was it considered adulthood? I wasn't entirely sure.
After touring the academy grounds, my guide led me to a separate building a short walk away. It resembled a cluster of inns, but it was actually a dormitory where students stayed during their time at the academy. This was where I'd be living.
Relief washed over me as I realized the freedom the dormitory offered. After years of being confined to the shrine, having my own space, and the liberty to come and go as I pleased, felt like a blessing. The dorm's rules were relaxed, allowing students to leave as long as they returned before nightfall.
With a bow, the plump uncle took his leave, and I was left to settle into my new home. The dormitory wasn't empty—I'd be sharing a room with three other students—but I had arrived a week earlier than most, so for now, I had the place to myself.
I dropped my bags and took a moment to breathe. The room was simple, but I didn't care. I needed space to think, to breathe, to explore, and more importantly, there's something I have to do, and only I can do. With that I left the building and made my way to the forests