“Where is Raki?” Misa asked as she set her tray of mush next to one of the cadets. She pulled her leg over the bench and took a seat.
Tagur, a rather large boy whom Misa had directed the question, grunted. His cheeks bulged with the food he stuffed into his mouth. Crumbs and sauce dotted his chin and some mush had somehow ended up streaking his black hair with a yellowish white.
Another boy across from her answered, “We didn’t see him since this the cleanup this morning. He probably couldn’t take it anymore and ran away. He was never a tough one.”
Gaveth was the complete opposite of Tagur—slim, clean, and spoke in a polished manner that suggested he grew up in a posh background—with the only similarity being that of their height. Being competitive, he had the tendency to
