Transmigrated as the Villain Between the Heroine and the Villainess

"I can explain," Azrael said, his voice was full of fear and panic."I didn't do anything. I even apologized. It was Aelira's fault."

Ilythia's crimson eyes narrowed. "Apologized?" she repeated, her voice was a low and dangerous. "You think a simple apology erases the consequences of your actions?"

She took a step closer, looming over him. "Let me be perfectly clear, boy. I do not care if you fight in the halls. I do not care if you end up beaten in a ditch or even if you die there. But you dragged Selyne into this."

He pushed himself up, rubbing his raw throat. "She was the one who dragged me! If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have even been near that mess."

"It doesn't matter who started it!" Ilythia snapped. "What matters is the outcome. And right now, the entire academy is buzzing. Do you have any idea what the rumors are saying?"

She began to pace, her movements were sharp and agitated, like a caged predator. "Let me enlighten you. For the non-elven students, it's a wonderful drama. A mysterious new hero protecting a sweet, innocent girl from the wicked elf princess. Some are even calling it a bold move from the academy to show the elves their place."

She stopped and turned, her gaze pinning him to the spot. "Then there's the political angle. The future heir of the House of Halloway, seen walking with the participants of a public brawl. It makes us look complicit, involved. Should I tell you what the elves are saying?"

Gulp. He remained silent.

"They're saying a filthy human dared to lay hands on their princess," she continued, her voice dripping with scorn. "They're calling for blood. For retribution. Not just against you, but against anyone associated with you."

Her expression was grim. "This isn't some backwater academy in the human realm, Azrael. This is the Ethereal Nexus. The peace here is not a fortress, it's a pane of glass suspended over a canyon. One wrong move, one shattered alliance and everything falls."

She leaned down, her face inches from his. "You didn't just start a schoolyard fight. You threw a rock at the glass. And worse, you involved Selyne. Now she's part of the story. The rumors will cling to her, affect her reputation, make her a target."

She finally straightened up, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. The rage seemed to drain from her, leaving only a deep, weary exhaustion.

Tssk.

"You are troublesome," she muttered, shaking her head. "Just like your sister."

-- -- -- --

The next morning, the drive to the academy had a tense and uncomfortable silence.

Azrael sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the gleaming towers of Elarion.

Selyne sat in the back, pointedly looking out the opposite window.

"You argued with your mother, didn't you?" Azrael said, breaking the silence without looking at her.

She flinched, then turned to him with a perfectly innocent, wide-eyed look that didn't fool him for a second.

"You have dozens of cars in that garage," he continued, his tone dry. "And yet, here you are, riding with me. I bet aunt lost the argument with you then she let you come with me anyway."

She didn't say anything, which was an admission in itself.

He sighed. "You're really stupid. You don't understand how the situation is turning up. If you keep staying with me like this, you'll be the one in trouble just like your mom said."

She turned to him, her usual playful expression gone which was replaced by a surprising seriousness.

"I don't care what people say," she said, her voice firm. "I don't care about any of them. I will follow what my heart tells me and nobody can stop me. I don't want to go to the academy like that a lonely start to the day."

Azrael opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that her heart was going to get them both killed. But he saw the look in her eyes, the stubborn, unshakeable resolve. He closed his mouth and smiled faintly.

It would be a waste of breath.

He changed the topic, a teasing glint returning to his eyes. "But wasn't I a 'stranger' just yesterday? A stranger you didn't want to go with?"

Her head whipped back toward the window so fast he thought she might get whiplash. She pretended to be fascinated by the passing scenery, her mind clearly scrambling for a comeback.

Azrael pressed his advantage. "You know, right? The rumors from yesterday will be all over the academy today. And you being with me is just going to create more."

She was ready this time. She turned back to him, her face a mask of proud defiance. "You don't have to worry about it. The rumors will vanish in just one day."

"Oh?" he asked. "And why is that?"

"Because who would believe them?" she said with a confident sniff. "A true beauty like me, in a relationship with a gloomy, stupid, weird… um…" She paused, thinking of more insults. "…weak, idiot boy like you? They'll understand it eventually. Or maybe it would be better if we stick around. It will look like me as a master, and you as my slave. Pretty easy."

Azrael just stared at her. Then, a sharp bell rang. They had arrived at the academy. And they were late.

"Shit," Azrael muttered. He didn't wait for the driver. He threw the door open and started running. Seeing him dash, Selyne panicked and bolted after him.

"Wait! Let me come too!" she shouted, her voice trailing behind him. "If you get there before me, you'll be scolded less than me! We can share the blame, right?"

"You should pay for it!" Azrael shouted back over his shoulder. "You were the one who took an hour deciding which shoes to wear!"

He dashed through the corridors and skidded to a halt in front of his classroom. He took a deep breath then smoothed down his uniform and then entered.

The room was silent. Every eye was on him. At the front of the class, standing behind the podium, was Professor Ilythia. She gave him a glare so cold it could have frozen fire.

They both stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Ilythia was waiting for an excuse. Azrael was petrified, his mind a complete blank. Finally, he fell back on the most basic, pathetic line he could think of.

"May I come in, ma'am?"

Ilythia's anger instantly turned into pure, undiluted embarrassment. All the students stared.

She was about to speak, to unleash a torrent of academic fury, but a shout came from the doorway. "Wait! He and I came together! He was just faster than me!"

Selyne ran into the room, unable to stop in time. She crashed directly into Azrael's back. The force sent her stumbling, and she barely managed to regain her balance. Azrael, however, was not so lucky. He fell face-first onto the polished floor with a loud thud.

The entire class erupted in laughter.

"Fuck," he muttered into the floor. "A great entrance."

Selyne rushed to help him up, her face a picture of innocent apology.

He refused her hand and got to his feet himself, brushing off his uniform. He looked at Ilythia, his expression unreadable, as if he was still waiting for her reply.

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Look at yourself. You are already inside my class."

She moved back to her podium. "This is your first class, so I am allowing it. But remember, there will be no next time. And the attendance was about to start, so you are safe. Sit down."

They looked for seats. Every desk was occupied. Selyne spotted Aria sitting with Silas and gave her a small wave. Meanwhile, Azrael found two vacant seats at the very back. He sat down, and Selyne, without asking, promptly sat next to him.

The attendance started. Ilythia's voice was crisp and formal.

"Azrael Ashveil?"

"Present."

"Aria sen Selros?"

"Present."

"Aelira von Crestia?"

A cold, clear "Present" came from the front row.

"Silas sen Selros?"

"Present."

"Selyne Halloway?"

"Present!"

Then, Ilythia called the next name. "Astrid Fal Orenis?"

Silence.

She repeated the name, her tone sharper. "Astrid Fal Orenis?"

Selyne, who had been fidgeting, suddenly spotted something under the bench in front of her. A faint curl of smoke. She leaned down and saw the pink-haired catgirl, sitting cross-legged on the floor, calmly smoking.

She turned to Azrael, her eyes wide. "Hey, Azrael," she whispered. "Wasn't her name Astrid? The one you told me about?"

"Yup," Azrael said, not even looking. "There she is. Just chilling."

"Astrid Fal Orenis, marked absent," Ilythia said, making a note on her data slate.

But then Selyne shot to her feet. "Wait, Moth— I mean, Professor! Astrid is present!"

Azrael looked at her, his eyes wide with horror. 'No, no, no, don't say any more.'

She pointed a triumphant finger. "She's smoking under her bench!"

Azrael slowly lowered his face into his hands and muttered. "Here it goes again."