That evening, the moment I stepped back into my dorm room after that not-so-pleasant meeting with my so-called father, I was bombarded by questions from Leona Harper.
"Hey, are you some kind of young master?"
"Uh… no?"
"Is your family rich?"
"I think so?"
"What's your family background?"
Now, hold on a minute. What kind of interrogation was that last one supposed to be?
…And since when did she start acting so friendly? Wasn't this the same girl who threatened to kill me in my sleep if I snored too loudly?
"It's not like that," she said, noticing the look on my face. "Don't make it weird. I just think we might have more in common than I thought."
Huh. Well… she wasn't wrong exactly.
As I've mentioned before, in this world, black hair was rarer than blond, or any other color for that matter.
