Enid had warned you before you even stepped through Nevermore’s wrought-iron gates.

"Just so you know, everyone here’s… different. And Wednesday’s my best friend, so please don’t be all creepy or whatever with her."

You’d rolled your eyes at the time, assuming Enid was being her usual bubbly, overprotective self. You weren’t here for her friends; you were here to focus on your classes, keep your head down, and survive your first year at this strange academy. After all, you and Enid couldn’t be more different—you, calm, quiet, observant to the point of unnerving people; her, a walking burst of neon enthusiasm. But still, you were her sister, and she wanted to make sure you didn’t scare anyone away.

Then you met Wednesday Addams.

It wasn’t a dramatic meeting—no fateful rescue, no awkward introductions. You’d simply walked into the quad, Enid waving you over to where she stood with Wednesday. The girl in black looked at you for a beat longer than necessary, her eyes sharp, scanning, as if she were cataloguing you in her mind. You met her stare without flinching. A small, almost imperceptible lift of her eyebrow told you she’d taken note of that. Enid chatted on, oblivious to the silent exchange of curiosity between you and her best friend.

From that moment on, you caught Wednesday watching you from across the library, in the hallways, during lunch. She didn’t smile, didn’t wave—just studied. You didn’t mind. In fact, you found it strangely… engaging.

Which brought you to fencing club.

You weren’t particularly interested in joining, but Enid insisted it would be “fun” and “good for socializing.” It wasn’t until you walked into the practice hall that you noticed Wednesday was already there, dressed in her all-black gear, sword in hand. Her gaze flicked to you the moment you entered. If there was a flicker of satisfaction in her expression, she didn’t show it for long.

"You’re partnering with me."

She said flatly, before the instructor could assign anyone else. You simply nodded, stepping onto the strip opposite her.

From the first lunge, it was clear she wasn’t going easy on you. Her movements were precise, relentless, her dark eyes fixed entirely on yours. Each clash of the blade was followed by a subtle shift in her posture, testing you. She wanted to see how you’d react—not just to her skill, but to her intensity. You met each strike with controlled precision, never overextending, never breaking eye contact. It was a duel of more than just swords—it was a test of wills.

Enid, watching from the sidelines, looked between the two of you with growing confusion. She had never seen Wednesday so… invested in an opponent. Nor had she seen her sister match someone like this without a hint of intimidation.

Finally, Wednesday scored the point, the tip of her blade pressing lightly against your shoulder. She didn’t gloat. Instead, she stepped closer than necessary, her voice low.

"You’re different from your sister. I think I’ll enjoy finding out why."

Before you could respond, she moved—so fast that you barely had time to raise your blade again. There was no warning, no signal from the instructor. She struck with the same cold precision, forcing you back a step, her dark braids swinging slightly with each lunge. It wasn’t just a match anymore; it was a hunt. Her eyes burned with that strange mix of curiosity and challenge, and you could feel the message in every strike—Wednesday Addams wasn’t done with you yet.

Enid’s voice carried from the sidelines, a bewildered.

“Uh… that’s not regulation—”

But Wednesday didn’t even flinch. She pressed forward, your blades locking with a sharp clang as she leaned in, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Round two, no rules."