CHAPTER 005

  Carmen and the Wisteria Princess

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  Carmen Lorette, a twelve year old sixth grader in Shinjuu Academy, was not built for mystery.

  First, she was strawberry-blonde with hazel-green eyes, a perfect quarrel between sunlight and fire. Her curly hair never quite behaved as the ends curled like they had a mind of their own, always reacting to the weather or her mood of the day, or both. A single cowlick near her temple refused diplomacy, giving her fringe a permanent tilt as though her thoughts leaned just a little too far forward for her body to keep up. Her skin was pale but warm-toned, it was tinted with just the right amount of sun-touched summer travels, her freckles lightly dusted across her nose bridge. And her eyes, a soft-hazel green like a young forest, a perfect copy of her mother’s eyes.

  To Carmen, she always suspected her stubborn hair was testament to her blonde father who was a diplomat and her ever gorgeous mother who had an elegant mane of Canadian maple leaves in late October, the perfect shade where auburn faded softly with burnished gold.

  Second, her voice tended to bounce off the walls while her laugh made the teachers sigh from three rooms away. She wasn’t loud on purpose, she just couldn’t help it. Subtlety was not her art. Unlike her father, she wore her opinions the way others wore jackets, loud and unbuttoned, Whether it was the proper way to eat ramen, which was definitely loud to honor the chef; or which opening theme of a certain anime series could summon the most emotional damage, definitely those with strings; and when she had thought, wondering about anything that caught her attention, the immediate vicinity would definitely be made aware of it.

  So yes, Carmen was not built for mystery, but she could be subtle if she truly applied herself. Growing up between a Diplomat and a Cardiologist, she learned early on how words could be cutting like sharp knives and healing like the perfect balm to soothe one’s soul; how first impressions could get you a long way.

  Which probably made the populace of Shinjuu Academy unable to muster an ounce of dislike of Carmen. To strangers, she was likable. To friends, she was loyal.

  Who would hate little miss helpful and bubbly sweet Carmen. Most of the kids liked Carmen, she was the queen of school gossip, and she was never the kind to repeat spiteful or hurtful words. Most of the things that Carmen shared were usually something others wanted to know. Like how one of their teacher’s birthdays was fast approaching and seemed to miss booking her holidays, how the smart students of the other class were having sneaky tutorial lessons, even the best study materials used by other schools. Sometimes, she blurts out small snippets of upcoming anime series, top five vacation spots for their age group, who was part of hobby clubs if anyone was interested to join one. Words tumbled out of her like candy spilling from a cracked jar—fast, colorful, and usually sticky with opinions.

  Once, when she was in second grade, her homeroom teacher called her to the office, but not for a harsh reprimand. Just a question of how she manages to get certain news or gossip.

  “It’s a trade secret, ma’am.” Carmen played with the hem of her uniform, eyes fixed on her shoes, and chin trembling in stubbornness. She was a professional social butterfly. She should not reveal her sources, like any other good and responsible butterfly would.

  “Carmen, you should understand that sometimes carrying words or stories about people can hurt them.” Her homeroom teacher said in a soft tone. She was worried that Carmen’s behavior would develop into something that was spiteful or malicious without meaning to. She laid a gentle hand on Carmen's soft crown of hair, and softly said, “I know you are a good kid, Carmen. But you need to have your stories checked and keep in mind their truthfulness. Words that are partly untrue can cause pain to others with unseen damages.”

  “Ok, ma’am. I understand.” Carmen solemnly nodded and a wordless promise settled in her heart of making sure to keep her facts straight and narrow. But she had never been good at staying quiet when the air at Shinjuu was full of things worth talking about. “I will be a very responsible and kind little social butterfly and not a naughty gossip troll.”

  This earned her a wry chuckle and fond amusement, she was finally released from the clutches of being office-called. As time passed, Carmen became known in their grade as the academy butterfly, the most responsible kind of gossip queen.

  The whole school already knew Carmen loved everything that was interesting to her, how could they not when she didn’t have the compunction of keeping them to herself since first grade. But Carmen was never rude or unkind. She was like a colorful little butterfly that fluttered between gossips from one flower to another in the blooming gardens of Shinjuu Academy, or as Carmen dubbed since second grade to her delight, the Wisteria School Extraordinaire for the most interesting kids and other people.

  So when word got out that a new transfer student was joining Shinjuu Academy, not even at the start of the year, Carmen practically vibrated with theories. It started with the Prefects in the neighboring Junior division. An supposedly seventh grader but had to complete adaptation the remainder of the school year with sixth graders.

  One didn’t just transfer into Shinjuu in the middle of the year, halfway through Grade 6, without something extraordinary going on, and a shoe in for seventh grade already. Carmen wondered if the new student still needed to take the exams or she just needed to complete the adaptation period.

  “She’s not from Japan, that’s for sure.” Carmen told her friends. “Maybe she’s a chess champion, or a violin prodigy. Or secretly twelve cats in a trench coat. Endless possibilities, and she’s definitely from abroad.”

  “Or maybe she’s some government kid, or worse, a charity case” one of her friends sniped with an air distraction as they worked out their lessons during their self-study period. Keiko, one of Carmen's Japanese study buddies, said as she twirled her pen across her fingers to make a point, “Like, secret genius protocol or quota. Or she hacked a university just to get extra credit. She must have done something to get attention, or a family connection somehow. Who knows or who cares.”

  “I don’t think so, Keiko.” Carmen’s eyebrow twitched and wondered why she even agreed to include this girl into the study group. Keiko was not the kind of person she usually hung out with. She should just leave her be and be done with it. Why did she even agree when her father asked her to make Keiko welcome in the school. Oh wait, she was the daughter or a politician in high places. Still, Carmen wished over and over again, Keiko wouldn’t be in Shinjuu Academy’s Junior division with her. She couldn’t stand the horror of it. Keiko should just choose another rich-kids-with-too-much-money kind of school somewhere far away from Japan. Another continent would be best. Fixing her polite diplomatic smile, which her friends recognized as the definitely-annoyed-but-don’t-show-it look, “She would have been with us at the beginning of the year, just like how you came in dear.”

  Keiko frowned but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong in that sentence. She shrugged in dismissal and turned her attention to her workbook. And that is how you distract a not-so-sharp pencil, Carmen thought with a nod.

  “For real, Cara?” Her classmates and friends butchered her name in Japanese, which somehow ended up with a sweet name. One of them amused how Carmen seemed to be protective of the new kid, even without meeting her, her mothering tendencies flaring up at odd intervals. Typical Carmen, her friends fondly thought.

  “Well, I am not sure for now.” Carmen’s signature phrase came, announcing her intention of checking out a worthy scoop. “Still a transfer student in the middle of the year! Can you believe it?”

  People joked the school barely let students out, let alone in. Which prompted Carmen into sleuth mode—a state she reserved for the most interesting questions with the most intriguing answers. She heard the name first in the hallway, a hushed mention passed between prefects like an executive memo, letting everyone in key places know about, but not the regular students yet.

  Eleanore Sorin.

  She said it aloud, testing the syllables. It sounded formal. Like something you'd find written in old ink, parchment, and sealed with wax. Eleanore. Too long for lunch line banter. Too heavy for classroom roll call.

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  Carmen shortened it instinctively. “Erin,” she muttered. It felt lighter. Quicker. Closer.

  Carmen has been making sure to keep the vital areas of observation in her checklist ticked and covered. The parking area for the shuttle service, main entrance hall, and the Admission Office. Still no sign of the girl.

  Carmen was on her way for a visit to the Faculty Office. She had been called to the faculty room to pick up a revised schedule. Nothing unusual as she kept to her sleuthing rounds.

  The morning light filtered through the windows of the front hall, softly bouncing against oakwood doors, polished stone pillars, and intricately designed marble floors. As Carmen passed by the reception area, the new girl stood beside the reception counter, a boy clinging to her sleeve. He must’ve been a younger brother, same posture, same quiet poise. His head barely reached her elbow, but the grip on her coat was firm. The morning light hit them both like a spotlight—quiet, golden, strange.

  Eleanore Sorin didn’t look nervous like most new kids. The transfer student, Erin as her mind shortened the name, looked composed. Not even a hint of nervousness was seen, which was unlike most new kids. She just looked…aware. Like she was taking notes in her head.

  The next thing Carmen picked up was the immediate imagery of midnight skies with silent stars. Erin’s hair was unlike anything she had seen before. Her hair was dark, straight, and silky, a stark contrast to her unruly mop of hair. And her eyes—Carmen stuttered in her thoughts.

  They were a color she couldn’t name at first. Not purple. Not blue.

  Amethyst.

  If the wisterias were a courtful of nobles, Erin’s eyes would be the most noble of them all. Those eyes were not sparkly or fake. Just deep and calm, like storm glass right before it breaks. No, they were not like storm glass, Carmen silently corrected her catalog of observations. The queen of blooming wisterias.

  And that subtle cloak of awareness, like she could feel the whole room thinking at her and was already used to it.There was something steady about her. Like she already knew where she was supposed to stand. She did not even fidget, and kids were expected to fidget once in a while.

  She looked smaller, if that was the right term to describe Erin, and she looked younger too. Carmen wondered if it was genetics, the younger brother was raven-haired too. They could have been asians if not for their striking appearance, that had echoes of something otherworldly, like the certain elves of a particular epic fantasy book.

  The office assistant cleared her throat, her hand gesturing between the girs, catching their attention for an introduction, “Carmen, meet our newest student—Eleanore Sorin. She’s in your class, so you’ll be showing her around. This is Carmen Lorette, she will be your student orientation guide and buddy for the remainder of the school year. She’s one of the nicest kid in our school.”

  Carmen blinked. “Hello! Do you mind if I called you Erin? Eleanore sounds like a mouthful.”

  The girl glanced at her, almost amused. “My family calls me Erin.”

  “Oh. Right. I mean. Cool. Erin’s shorter, right?” Carmen blurted out. A slight blush on her cheeks, "You won't mind if I called you Erin, right?"

  A nod later, and a relieved Carmen was how it started. It was not until later that they fpund put how Eleanore became universally called Erin Sorin, and rarely Eleanore. Carmen said it once. Another student said it later. A lunch monitor wrote it on a note. And it stuck.

  They wouldn't notice until it was the end of her first week, when even teachers had shortened her name without asking. Erin never corrected them. She just adapted. That’s what she was good at.

  “Do you mind waiting for a little while?” Erin asked. Her voice sounded soft and something else. Measured, it was odd how someone young would be speaking in a controlled manner. “Our mother is still with the Headmistress and I need to look after my brother until they finalize any arrangements for Kael.”

  Carmen’s gaze slid towards the younger boy who had clutched on Erin’s left arm. A blink and a chirp came from said boy, “Hi! I’m Kael and I just turned seven. I’m also coming here for school like Erin.”

  The office assistant left them to their devices in the reception hall. The first thing Carmen learned about Erin was that she was quiet. But it wasn’t the awkward kind that made you find things to fill in the silence. Erin did not offer any forced niceness. No weird effort to impress. She was a presence that was more like a companion in quiet comfort.

  “So, what made you come to Shinjuu? If don’t mind me asking.” Carmen asked as the time ticked away, her eyes straying towards the far end where the Headmistress office was located. Those final arrangements must be quiet hefty, it screams special circumstances. “I mean, you look younger than most of the sixth graders here.”

  “Oh, Erin skipped grades.” Kael muttered, his head buried in a battle of wits of chess with his sister. A frown became a fixture on his face as chose his next move on the chess board. While Erin sat with inexhaustible poise. They were so behaved, they didn’t move away from their chartered corner beside the first instance of Kael for a game of chess when the faculty assistant came back to ask if they needed something.

  Carmen blinked, Erin skipped grades. So she really was a shoe in for seventh grade, Carmen noted. She didn’t want to disturb their interesting game of chess. After all, she had all the time till the end of the school year to ask questions.

  Finally Kael moved his bishop. A tricky spot, Carmen thought to herself though she wasn’t an expert. A smug look replaced the frown on Kaels face, celebrating his victory perhaps. As if to grace the near-hand victory, “Well Erin got a letter from the school. Mom said it was for a scholarship, and the school said we could come together.”

  Tack. The sound of a piece landing on the chess board. Erin made her move.

  “Oh, come on. I almost won!” Kael huffed, his earlier imminent crow victory swiftly died a miserable fate.

  “Check mate, dear brother.” Erin chuckled. How can a kid chuckle, Carmen wanted to blurt out but held it in. Kids didn’t chuckle. They giggle. Why is everything about Erin graceful. She must have gotten lessons on etiquette like a princess.

  “How come you are good at this?” Kael crossed his arms, an effort to announce his upset let Erin pick up the pieces, he muttered under his breath, “We’re not much far apart, you just turned ten a few days ago.

  “You will learn and get better in due time, your highness. You always do.” Erin ruffled his hair in fondness. Yep, definitely close sibling bond here, Carmen ticked in her ever growing catalog of Erin.

  “Well, chess grandmaster is now officially on the list.” Carmen mentally ticked her catalog. Before she could ask, Erin packed up the chess pieces into its board box. “Don’t you want to play another game?”

  “Next time, Carmen.” A soft click from the box echoed as Erin latched it close and set it aside at the center of the table. When she stood up, and ran her hands on her clothes to smooth out the creases. A look of understanding morphing on Kael’s face as he nodded at something in conclusion.

  “They’re finally finished?” Kael asked, as he too stood to attention settling beside Erin.

  “Yes.” Erin calmly said.

  Carmen was left confused. Do they have a twin telepathy or something?

  Not a moment later, she hear a squeaking sound. It was the telltale sign of the Headmistress opening the door to her office. Someone came out of the office. From a distance, Carmen saw a tall lady, because if a woman had an air of elegance then she was a lady in her books. Her hair, a warm chestnut brown, was fashionably short, softly layered, and feathered just enough with a slight tousle to frame her fame—which spoke of careful upkeep without vanity.

  That must be Mrs. Sorin. Carmen mussed. This family was full of quiet elegance, and beautiful too, in her opinion. She remarked in a not unkind voice, “You must have taken after your Dad. With the black hair and pretty eyes.”

  Erin glanced at her, as if a question was answered in her mind, a small smile played at the corner of her lips, “Thank you.”

  Her voice was quiet but exact. Not shy, Carmen noted. It was something else. But never shy.

  The Headmistress followed her out, her voice marking the end of the visit. “We look forward to your joining our esteemed academy. If you have any further queries, please feel free to set an appointment and we can discuss them further.”

  The Office assistant guided Mrs. Sorin to their corner. When she was close enough, Carmen noted how the rich brown tones complimented her fair skin and blue eyes, the color of clear summer skies on clear glass-skin.

  A fairy on earth! Carmen was met with a kind laugh from Mrs. Sorin. Mortified, she gasped with a blush dusting her cheeks, “I must have said it out loud, didn’t I?”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you dear,” Mrs. Sorin said not unkindly, “I’m just your regular human, mother of two. But thank you for the vote of confidence here.”

  “Mom,” Erin must have sensed her embarrassment, bless her good heart. “This is Carmen Lorette. I am to join their section, er-homeroom I guess. She was kind enough to let us wait for you before my student orientation began.”

  “That’s very accomodating of you dear.” Mrs Sorin said. “I hope you didn’t wait too long?”

  “It’s no trouble at all, Mrs. Sorin.” Carmen denied. It was not a big deal to wait for some time for her. Besides, they played chess, or at least they played and she watched them, and the odd twin-telepathy thing. Maybe it was a sibling thing, which she will never know being a single child herself. “It’s my job and we had an interesting chess match. So there wasn't really too much waiting.”

  “Please call me Lyra,” Her hand stretched out gracefully to Kael. They were really a beautiful family, like royal faeries.

  Another snicker was heard, and this time it came from Kael. She flushed with pink, wanting to jump into the nearest hole of her making to hide from the embarrassment. After hastily saying goodbye, they parted ways, taking Erin with her while Lyra and Kael went with another teacher for an assessment.

  She wondered if Erin would be a stay-in student. Maybe she could offer to share her room in the dormitories with her. It was a great idea.

  Erin could be her little sister since she was apparently 2 years older.

  An excellent idea, indeed. She just needed to lure the Wisteria Princess to be her roommate.

  It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

  Next Update: May 06, 2025 (and every Tuesday)