 Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2025 4:22 pm
 
Viktor hadn’t so much as hummed a note since that cursed music class, and he intended to keep it that way until the day he died. The very idea of hearing another cheerful little tune made his jaw tighten. If anyone dared sing within earshot, he’d gladly rip out their vocal cords and feed them the remains. He leaned his head back, eyes shut for a moment. Gods, if he could go back in time, he’d skip that class entirely, consequences be damned. What a vile, humiliating experience. What was wrong with this school? Why did it seem determined to torment him at every turn?
A sharp snap broke his thoughts, his pencil, split clean in half under the pressure of his grip. He exhaled through his nose, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl, ’Useless piece of wood.’ Dropping the fragments onto the desk, he tilted his head forward again, fixing a flat, disinterested stare on the professor, who was droning on about some new assignment. History, of course. This time, it was about analyzing wars, what went wrong, what went right, and how they might have been won differently. Viktor rolled his eyes. The only thing that had gone wrong in any war was that they’d ended at all. Nothing had been “fixed”, not enough blood had been spilled. All that fighting, and for what? A pathetic compromise, a waste.
Then came the words that made his ears ring with immediate irritation- group project. His spine stiffened and his hand curled around the side of the desk. Partners would be assigned, the professor said, as though the decision hadn’t just doomed the entire endeavor. Not that picking his own would have been better, he couldn’t stand the thought of working alongside any of his so called peers. The instructor moved slowly down the rows, handing out folded slips of paper with names written inside. Viktor followed him with a glare that could have cut glass. When the paper was finally dropped on his desk, he took his time opening it. He hoped to the Gods it would be someone he could tolerate.
It wasn’t.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, his hand crushed the paper into a tight ball before he tossed it back onto the table. He knew the name well enough, the Fire Princess. A spoiled royal brat who, in his mind, had single-handedly ruined everything. If it hadn’t been for her interference, the war between Funkazan and Hyouden could have burned far longer, perhaps even to a proper conclusion. Like an entire army of Funkazans dead, Ivan dead, and him General. But no, she had to bring it all crashing to an unsatisfying halt.
Around him, chairs scraped against the floor as students got up to find their partners. Viktor didn’t move, his arms folded across his chest, posture rigid. He’d work with her when the sky froze over, and not a moment sooner. Killing her did cross his mind…briefly. But it would be messy. And, most importantly, attention grabbing. No, he’d keep his hands clean for now. Instead, he sat there in perfect, icy stillness, expression unreadable save for the faint twitch of an eyebrow. Inside, however, he was already plotting ways to make this project as painless for himself, and as hellish for her, as possible.
OOC: NA Location: Class Company: Phina Outfit: Wearing
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