Markara was amazed.
From the outside, the dorm looked like it had been forgotten by time, ruined, vince-covered, and abandoned. But inside it was something else entirely.
The hall was warm, clean and full of soft lighting. Every step he took echoed gently on the polished wood floors. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed.
And then there was her.
The doll-like girl in the maid uniform, Elizabeth had greeted him like a butler from a royal household and told him she would be the caretaker of this dorm.
Markara still wasn't sure if he'd heard that right.
Elizabeth turned graceful and motioned for him to follow.
"I'll give you a short tour of the dormitory," she said.
He nodded quickly and followed behind.
The building had four floors in total, including the ground floor.
They started on the first floor, where Markara had entered earlier.
There were only two rooms here, the living and the kitchen, separated by a wide hallway with sliding shoji doors.
The living room looked like something straight out of a cozy Japanese drama. A single big sofa sat across from a low wooden table. An old box-style television rested on a stand nearby, and next to the wooden table, there was a kotatsu, the kind of table with a thick blanket and heater underneath, meant for cold nights.
Next to it was the kitchen, which surprised him even more. It was more spacious, larger than the living room, and neatly arranged. There were 2 long tables each with 4 chairs. The cooking area was sparkling clean, and the scent of freestyle made curry still hung in the air.
On the kitchen counter, plates of food were already laid out, still steaming slightly.
They continued the tour, heading up a staircase ticked behind the living room. The stairs creaked just a little, but the wood was solid.
The second floor was quieter.
As they stepped off the stairs, Markara noticed the air felt a little cooler here, the lighting slightly dimmer.
Elizabeth gestured to the first food on the left.
"This is the study room," She said with a smile.
Markara peeked inside.
The room was neatly organized, lined with bookshelves filled with books. Along the far wall were several desktop computers, and in the center of the room stood three long study desks, each equipped with individual reading lamps and tidy pencil holders.
It looked more like a small private library than anything else.
Across the hallway was another door, with a small nameplate on it that read: Elizabeth.
"My room" she said calmly, noticing him glance at it. "Restricted to guests"
He nodded slowly, trying not to look curious.
Elizabeth wasted no time and continued up the next flight of stairs.
The third floor was narrower and had three rooms, all with closed doors, Each had a small wooden name plate carved in different handwriting. Markara could already guess, these were the occupied rooms.
"Master Markara, your room will be on the fourth floor."
Elizabeth's voice was soft but clear.
Without waiting for a response, she began ascending the stairs, her footsteps silent as ever.
Markara followed behind, glazing once more at the closed doors on the third floor.
'I can't wait to meet everyone here' he thought.
The fourth floor felt a little warmer than the rest, still clean and quiet just like the floor below, there were three rooms, spaced evenly along the hall.
But only one had a nameplate. His name, etched in black lettering: Markara.
The other two doors were blank.
Markara tilted his head and pointed a thumb at himself.
"Am I .. the only one on this floor?"
Elizabeth turned to him, her expression unchanged, but her eyes sparkled just slightly.
"Yes, Master. For the time being, you will be the only resident on this floor."
She said it like it was completely normal. Before he could ask more, she turned back to his door.
With perfect form, she twisted the doorknob to open the door of his room.
Markara's eyes widened as the door opened.
The room wasn't anything extravagant.
A soft bed with clean white sheets, a neatly folded blanket and single pillow sat on it. There was a desk by the window, a closet beside it, and a sliding door that led to a small private bathroom.
For most people, especially the rich students who probably attended this academy, it would've looked simple, barely worth mentioning.
But for Markara, it was something else entirely.
His own bed, his own room.
He'd never had that before.
Back at the church, he'd always shared a large sleeping hall with other children. Thin mattresses but warmth and full of laughter.
But here, in this quiet, peaceful room…
Markara felt something stir in his chest.
It was homesickness.
The silence, the stillness, it reminded him of just how far he was from the small, noisy church he used to call home.
From the kids, his father, Sister Vatey.
His smile faded without him realizing.
"Is everything not to your liking, Master?" Elizabeth's voice was soft but quick, catching the change in his expression instantly.
Markara blinked and quickly straightened up.
"Ahh… no no! Everything's perfect !" He said, forcing a grin as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"I was just remembering something, that's all"
Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment.
Then she gave a small nod.
"Understood. I will go and prepare your uniform and lunch."
Her voice was as gentle as ever, unfazed by his awkward smile.
She stepped back toward the door and gave a small graceful bow.
"Please take some time to rest, Master"
And with that, she quietly exited the room.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Suddenly, Markara slapped his cheeks with both hands, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet room.
"This is gonna be my new home." he said out loud, eyes burning with quiet resolve. Then he smiled softly to himself, lifting his gaze toward the ceiling, as if speaking to someone far away.
"Father, I will do my best. I'll try to learn more about Mother"
With that, he turned to his luggage and began unpacking.
Carefully, he laid out his few sets of clothes, some personal items, and began to arrange them into the closet and on his desk.
The room was simple, but with each item he placed, it started to feel a little more like his.
Not just a room. But a place he could call home.