𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 // 𝐒𝐏𝐘 𝐱 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

Chapter 18

A classroom full of filthy rich children could be a lot of things. One, a nightmare, certainly. And of course, there's the usual dash of insanity too, which typically comes in hand when there is a mob of six year olds. The thing is, elites —these children being spawns of the society's most affluent (or wily)— were strange. People who didn't need to concern themselves over the little monetary things normal people did had to find some way to fill up the gap after all. And for the immensely wealthy? Entertainment came in the form of flaunting their said wealth. Or at least, doing things simply for the reason that they could. Weird hobbies, habits, or appearances —not unusual really.

Naturally, there was only one place to send their hopefuls; Eden Academy. A bustling hotspot for the rich, influential, and crazy.

Here is a classroom. Of twenty or so. Children —no. Scions —heirs —politicians. Sons, daughters, human beings (but they might as well be aliens) of these very monsters —some; sharp-toothed creatures having clawed and bloodied their way to success, others; pigs brought up drowning in gold and in the intricacies of what they call politics (it's their home, and naturally, they know it best). Either way, terrifying, honest.

There's a saying that children often take after their parents. Or at the very least, they take after the society they choose (or are encouraged; read: forced) to surround themselves with. Essentially; the childhood matters.

And this class? Well, they certainly didn't have a normal childhood. They were born to be cunning and ruthless. They were groomed for a future decided by the life thrust upon them. They had expectations. Money to make. People to meet. Success to bring about.

So... in a classroom-worth of children, born confident in their own value and learned in the ways of their parents —those frightful little mimics? It's straight into the deep end. A roomful of prowling wolves, wary and alert. They are sly. And they scheme. Rather clumsily, of course (a relief). They are only children. But still, they were terrifying politicians in the making.

From the very first day, the children (rather unsubtly) scoured the other for information. Who's your parent? Do I know them? Are they important enough? You could practically hear the gears in their head, clicking and shuffling as they tried to grasp at every opportunity. Something, they undoubtedly, learned from their parents.

Kei laughs sometimes at how ridiculous it all is. Do six year olds normally make friends based on who would get them the furthest in their future? The answer, she was pretty sure, was no. But Kei supposed that they were different in a way. None of them were normal (least of all, herself).

Surely enough, the children gravitated to the one considered most "impressive". A social hierarchy was built. And certain people were excluded entirely —dismissed.

Kei notices this. (She remembers when a blue-eyed girl approached her, sweetly inquiring into Kei's background. And she remembers the distaste in the said girl's face when Kei twisted her fingers into a suitable answer —likely a good thing the girl didn't know sign language because Kei had been painfully blunt (fuck off). Suffice to say, she hadn't made a friend.)

She had been judged then. Then decided inconsequential.

And Kei thinks of a certain girl of jade eyes, so innocent (too much so)—a mere little lamb. And she shudders in fear. Fear that the wolves would rip the girl apart.

She had been secretly relieved when the Blackbell girl took Anya under her wing. At least the latter was protected. (There was envy too, of course.)

Kei's fear was irrational in every way. Because of course, they had been through worse, hadn't they? They weren't sheep. They weren't prey; they had been once though (and a couple of baby wolves couldn't hurt them now). Ah but no.