~ Guest of the Hour - 1 ~

Sora frowned when he saw the rusty gates of the 4th block, which housed the hostel arrangement for the evening scholars.

The high walls of the fortress made him tensed, but his expression never gave way to any negative feelings.

If someone saw him now, they would wonder why such a high and mighty president would venture so far into the unknown territory. Given the time, not many visitors came by.

The rusty door opened as a guard wearing long overcoat greeted his face, the crinkles on the forehead defining the stressed character of the middle aged man, whose back was slightly hunched and hands were too large, almost twice of Sora's.

Sora wondered what species he was graced with, however he did not voice out his opinion, fearing he would upset someone he wasn't meant to.

Putting up a frosty front, the president raised up his chin in an act of defiance, "Myself Sora, Student Council President, have an announcement to make, would sir let me enter?"

The guard was a bit surprised upon hearing the contrasting kind speech with the frosty face that he was seeing, it was slightly alarming. He rarely met such people of high bearing, even the straight posture gave him a migraine.

"Do you have a pass?"

Sora nodded, opened the first few buttons of his cuff and showed his left wrist to the gate keeper, the bar code and numbers very visible, all done in black ink.

Satisfied, the guard pushed the gate up front, making up a small crack which was broad enough to let Sora pass through.

For the president, his slim frame was easy to slide in with, as he stepped into the dark halls of the Hostel lobby.

Sparing no glance, Sora graciously stepped further in, each stride measured and precise, his movements like those of the royals. "Where will I find the most crowd at this hour?"

The guard grumbled a few sentences out, but to Sora they were very clear, "So I will leave for the mess hall."

He crossed the low hanging chandeliers, the cold red carpet, the drafty ruptured walls and finally climbed the staircase, to the first floor, where he believed each dorm had its mess hall on.

And he wasn't let down, the minute he stepped on the first floor, greeting the grey stone walls and dark interiors, a patch of light slipped through a crack in the door further ahead right next to the intersection of two corridors, the blue light from the torches that lit up the interior decorating his vision.

The evening folks were really into dark stuff, weren't they? Sora mused absently.

When he reached the front of the door, his eyes were entranced by the partial view he got of the mess hall. It was entirely laid with pools of fountains and green moss. The natural light entering was also in contrast with the shadowy entrance Sora was currently standing at.

Taking a deep breath, his flat palms slapped the doors open, and he entered the mess hall with a gracious posture of some rich prince who had been hand fed his entire life. The aura he previously never concealed, was also put under check, to ensure he did not startled some sensitive fellow with fangs.

His steps halted when he found himself at the center of the hall, several hundreds of students, all silently watching him, having pardoned whatever they were doing earlier, in interest to see what he was up to.

Each of them wore black uniform of similar styling as the day scholars. But if the grey and white, made the day scholars appear calm and serene, sophisticated even, then the black uniform was rather piercing and edgy on these evening scholars.

Under the intense glances of many, Sora felt unnerved, but he also wouldn't show it to anyone, so his poker face slipped on and soon his robotic voice was heard echoing in the silent hall.

"Thank you for listening so aptly, would cut short greetings and get straight to the point," he wanted to get out as soon as he could, even his masked performance would end up in drains if he was to stand under their scrutiny any longer, "There is a summer camp going to be organised next month, is anyone willing to give their names for it?"

The silence was frustrating, even Sora whose nerves were made of steel, couldn't help but feel nervous.

His years of practiced tolerance would dwindle with the silent response he got.

"If anyone would like to participate, you need to give me your names, so instead of just staring at me, I would like for you to speak."

Sora was pretty sure he heard someone snort in the crowd, as the students kept sitting on their long mess table, simply watching him, the lack of response was getting on his nerves.

He thought about leaving if nobody was enthusiastic about a camp, but his pride would be wounded if he just turned tails and ran away. He could even hear the ridicule he would face if his white piece of paper was returned empty. Yet even as a president, the chances of moving the crowd with his words alone, looked like a far cry.

He heard about the evening scholars, how they operated like a cult, only listening to their leader, so no wonder even their masters had separate quarters.

Just when he gave up on thinking of a strategy, his ears perked up when he heard the entry doors to the mess hall opening up with a slight groan. The metal of the frame as rusted as the main entrance he had entered from.

Sora had half a mind to go and repaint the door panels, the rusted metal really was an eye sore.

And the person who entered was even more so.

If his memories were right, then the target of his personal annoyance had just entered the radar. The slim waist, broad shoulders, high chin, sharp features, dark short hair and long leather boots, really was a collage of perfection. There was no ugliness he could find and no peculiarity he could pin point.

He wondered if in this world, his luck was rubbed against some prickly fate, because having an enemy who looked this gorgeous, was the worst luck one could possibly have. And even if Sora had no interest in living beings, his heightened senses were brutally murdered by an ethereal Deity.

His nose picked up an otherworldly scent which could only be termed as sensual and dark, a stark contrast with his own scent, which he had heard people call, 'sweet and fruity.'

'His eyes are close to violet, a bit in between lilac and mauve,' Sora noted as he took in the details at a close proximity. Since it was rumored that nobody sane enough would step under the radii of 2 meters when they were faced with this person, because once they entered his personal radii, their minds could be controlled by him.

Of course, Sora never believed that such theories were true, because even demons weren't that high and mighty to be able to control another being. And if such strengths and abilities were made public, then how safe was the world for them even. Greedy people would stand in lines just to exploit those powers.

Whatever the case maybe, he was not pleased with meeting his enemy.

"Oh?" the deep voice assaulted Sora like a gentle breeze, "you are the new president..."

"...Jeha," Sora greeted back, simply pushing up a formality, although he was well aware that he had yet to take another look at the man standing right in front of him, Jeha's tone of speech said he was surprised to find him here, in the middle of his domain.

Even he was perplexed as to why he would chose to torture his soul by coming here, he might look strong and was respected, but he wasn't as formidable as people thought.