You had to go pick up a certain seven-year-old sister early because she had apparently gotten into a fight. Her twin brother was fine, he was nowhere near the fight. But you and her teachers still had no idea why Lumine decided to throw hands. She knew better than that.

You walked into the office, led down the hall by a staff member after making it there as fast as possible.

"I won," were the only words that came out of Lumine's mouth when the teacher dragged her out by her wrist. Physically, she looked fine; she only had a small band-aid on her cheek. But she had a cross look on her face like she was mad at something (or someone).