[ Lunch ]

Geoffrey was walking through the hallways leading to the cafeteria with Jet by his side. 

The price of standing out. 

The floor was spectacular, the diamond-shaped designs were outlined in gold and sapphire. It was spotless, and so were the walls that looked to be straight out of a mansion, with luxurious and tasteful wallpaper.

It felt like walking through a billionaire's home, with paintings that would be fitting of a museum spread around the halls. 

There were even sculptures here and there, adding to that feeling.

The only thing that seemed out of place was the smoke that was subtly weaving itself everywhere.

Nobody else mentioned it. It has to be the gift given to me by Death...

"This is quite something, never seen something like this when I was alive," said Jet. "And trust me, I knew wealth."

He was walking next to Geoffrey, but his demeanor leaned more toward skipping than walking.

He read the plaques underneath the paintings, letting out 'oh' sounds every once in a while.

"You look unfazed. You're used to this? Were you a rich guy before ending it?"

"I've never seen anything like this, no. Even the classroom looked a bit too luxurious," said Geoffrey.

"Right??? I did think the same way. And the ceilings, why are they so high? I feel like I'm in a K-drama. You watch them?"

Jet was unbothered by the lack of comments on Geoffrey's part. If anything, it felt as if he spoke more when Geoffrey kept silent.

After following the signs and the students who knew where they were going, they finally reached the cafeteria.

It looked nothing like one.

"Really?!" said Jet.

You said that right.

It was bigger than a couple of gymnasiums put together. The ceilings were arching, with marble pillars layered around the area. 

There weren't any of those typical cafeteria tables made of old, used and discolored wood. Every table was made of polished marble with a white cloth on them. There were flowers on each table, with utensils already placed at each seat.

There were a lot of students already eating while Geoffrey and Jet stood at the entrance, looking around.

"This place is way too big. I've been to private schools my whole life, never seen one like this. Oh, hey, look over there."

Geoffrey followed Jet's finger, that pointed further toward the back. Waiters came in and out of what must've been the kitchen with trolleys of food. They all wore clean suits and even had the signature white towel on their arms.

"Out of the way."

A student pushed through them, shoving Geoffrey and Jet aside.

His uniform differed from theirs. First years had colors close to bronze for their ties and some outlines, while this one had something close to silver. 

I'm guessing that a golden uniform means third year. I have yet to see one, however...

Before arriving, he was made to change into one, and it was horrible. It was too detailed; it felt like he was wearing a costume more than a uniform. However, that extremely detailed look fit the school: it was luxurious. A lot of shiny bronze buttons, a layered jacket, and a lot of pockets. One of them, he believed, should be used for a pocket watch, not that he had one, anyway.

"Come-on! Watch where you're going!" shouted Jet.

"Huh?"

The student turned around almost instantly, facing Jet. 

He was tall, and his uniform was poorly put together, unbuttoned and missing pieces of it. His face was in a constant frown, with only one emotion that could be read on it: anger.

"You're talking back?!" 

He aggressively tapped on Jet's chest with his finger, pushing him. 

Jet, however, kept his usual smile and joyful tone.

"If you don't take that finger off my chest, I'll fucking shove it up your ass until it leaves through your mouth."

The upperclassman took a step forward, closing the distance between them even more. 

Without even hiding his intention, he slowly grabbed Jet's collar tightly.

"I'll end you right now. You might not know this, but there's a hierarchy here, and you're bottom-feeders."

"Try something, and I'll make you regret it," replied Jet.

Their frames were totally different. Jet was short and slim, while the upperclassman had a lean but muscular build. 

And he was significantly taller.

The way Jet confronted him puzzled Geoffrey.

Is it because of his ability?

As the thought crossed his mind, light flashed before him. From Jet's fist emanated lightning, reaching around yet seemingly not hurting him or the upperclassman.

It was crackling loudly, grabbing others' attention.

"Freshman are quite arrogant this year."

The upperclassman let go of Jet's collar, pushing him back a few steps.

"If you want to play, I'll play."

A small curious crowd had formed around them, with a few students he recognized from their own class.

Those that weren't from his class seemed truly concerned, some taking several steps back. 

Geoffrey realized Jet wasn't the one they were concerned about.

Should I intervene?

A small flame flickered inside Geoffrey. Death's words echoed in his mind as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

Jet's fist tightened, the lightning crackling louder as it grew brighter.

Maybe I should.

In a split-second, a thunderous sound echoed through the cafeteria. Jet had moved so quickly he barely followed his movement.

His fist was stopped inches away from the upperclassman's face. 

The upperclassman hadn't moved at all, didn't even flinch.

Jet's wrist, however, was tightly held by someone else.

 "Hey," said Jet with a smile, "let go of me before I kill you as well."

The person holding his wrist was, judging by her uniform, in the same year as the guy about to be hit.

"I'm Nora, and an official member of the disciplinary committee."

The upperclassman snapped his tongue.

"You're lucky, this time," he said.

He turned around, and walked away while Jet remained there, his fist tightly held in the air by Nora.

"I won't say it again. Let go."

His joyful tone was unwavering, but his eyes betrayed how serious he was.

"I'll let go once you stop that lightning."

A hint of a frown started to form on Jet's face.

Geoffrey stepped forward.

"Sorry, Nora. This is our first day, and we're not used to our abilities. Maybe if you let his wrist go he'd be able to stop it."

She looked at Geoffrey, then at Jet once more. In one audible deep sigh, she let go.

"There we go!" said Jet, who started massaging his wrist.

The lightning slowly stopped, Jet's eyes regaining that previous joyfulness.

"Just so you know, I was totally able to stop it, but chose not to," said Jet.

Nora rolled her eyes. "Your friend is a lot smarter than you are. Maybe you should take from him a little."

"I totally would've won that fight."

"How?" asked Nora.

Jet face turned into a frown as he dug deep for a reasoning.

"Well, whoever hits first usually wins when it comes to street fights on tv shows..."

"You would've lost."

"I'm pretty sure I would've landed that punch, and even without abilities, I'm confident I aimed at the right spot on his jaw to leave some significant damage."

"It doesn't matter." said Nora. 

Her tone was harsh and dry. 

She was standing there, hands on her hips, while some people quickly arrived behind her, dispersing the crowd while she spoke with Jet.

They wore the same disciplinary committee armband as her.

"Even if your punch left him in a hospital bed for 3 months, you'd lose."

She pointed toward the student walking away. 

"That's Lance, more commonly known as 'Fog'. He's an A grade second year. Just so you know, A graders are rare, even among second years," she started.

"I don't care if-" cut Jet.

"-At his current grade, he'll easily recover from breaking the rules. Even if he miraculously lost, he'd be fine. However, a freshman who's an F grader with no savings would face immediate expulsion depending on the damage you cause."

"Miraculously?" repeated Jet, acting offended.

Another student from the disciplinary committee approached, overhearing the conversation.

"Fog is infamous. I'm not even sure we could save you if he got serious. He lost it, once, everyone in his class ended in a hospital bed. The only person to make it out of that classroom was the teacher, left untouched. All we could do was stand outside the classroom and wait it out."

"You stood by? What are you guys even for if you can't deal with students breaking rules?" said Jet.

Nora's tone was heavy. 

"Back then, the committee barely had any members, by the time the strongest members arrived, it was already too late."

That strong? 

Geoffrey looked at Lance walking away. People referring to him by his power's name meant it must've been quite strong.

A single and central thought remained in Geoffrey's mind.

Why would he even go that far to start with?