Oz Bezarius just wanted a normal first day of the new term at Latwidge Academy. Instead, he overslept, nearly tripped over a parade of black cats, and arrived at his desk to find a fluffy black rabbit plushie with a name tag reading "Alice" and a serious attitude problem.
The plushie talks. It demands. And according to it, Oz is now its property.
As a member of a family of Storytellers—those who wield Echo Magic to breathe life into objects—Oz knows the strange rules of his world better than m
Pandora Academy: After-School Aviss - The rabbit on the desk suddenly
"Ohhh no, I overslept!"
Oz Bezarius shouted as he ran, slicing through the morning air of Lumenfield. The clock tower of Latwidge Academy, towering at the center of the academy city, mercilessly read fifteen minutes before the start of classes. The red-brick school building, bathed in the morning sun, looked much farther away than usual.
(Why of all days did my alarm have to fail today...!)
First day of the new term. The second-year classroom, with no class reshuffling, should have been exactly the same as yesterday—but just the fact that he'd overslept made it feel like the world was ending. His fluffy blond hair stuck out in every direction from bedhead, and his uniform tie, loosened further by the vibration of running, was about to slip off his shoulder.
"Whoa—a cat...!"
A black cat darted across at the corner, and Oz frantically twisted his body aside. Cutting through the riverside path along the Lumen River was the shortcut, but today there were an unusual number of cats. Every time he saw one, that face floated into his mind.
(Gil's probably in the classroom by now, looking at my desk and shaking his head.)
Oz's lips curved. His servant and best friend, Gilbert Nightray, made it his daily routine to lay out textbooks on Oz's desk every morning and make excuses to the teacher whenever Oz overslept. More than ten years together—to Oz, he was something like the air itself.
He passed through the main gate and changed into indoor shoes at the shoe lockers. Panting, he bounded up the stairs two steps at a time and threw open the door to Classroom 2-3.
"Morning! Made it—safe, right!? Teacher's not here yet, is he!?"
The ten or so students in the classroom all turned around at once. Their gazes, for some reason, weren't fixed on Oz's face but on top of Oz's desk—something Oz noticed a beat late.
"Oz, your desk—it's bad."
"It was there when I got here this morning."
"Is it someone's prank?"
Pushing through the classmates who spoke up one after another, Oz headed for his seat. Second row from the window, third from the back. And there it was.
A black, fluffy, long-eared rabbit plushie.
"...What the hell is this?"
Oz tilted his head and lifted the plushie. The texture was soft, the fur glossy. It wasn't new—there was a somehow aged quality to it. A small name tag hung at its neck, with "Alice" written in round letters.
"Alice? Whose lost property is this?"
Oz laughed as he flipped the plushie over and tugged at its ears. A mischievous smile sparkled in his large emerald eyes.
"Hey—anyone the owner? Cute little black bunny here—"
The classroom erupted in laughter. At times like this, Oz was good at reading the room and turning it into a joke. He was the type who couldn't leave someone in trouble alone—but more than that, he loved making people laugh.
That was when it happened.
"You. You've become my property."
The plushie in Oz's hands spoke.
The air in the classroom froze instantly.
"...Huh?"
Oz lifted the plushie to eye level and stared at it. Beady black eyes, harboring a red light, stared back at him.
"Let go. Don't handle me roughly. I'm not a plushie."
"I mean, you are a plushie."
"No. I am Alice. And you, as of today, are my property."
Oz stared at the plushie in silence for several seconds. Then he slowly looked around the classroom. Every classmate was gaping at him, mouths wide open.
"...Ahahaha! What, is this a prank? Someone's making it talk with a remote, right?"
Oz laughed it off. Right, that had to be it. A first-day-of-term entertainment. A surprise someone had prepared. He decided to believe that.
But the plushie continued.
"Don't laugh. I'm serious. You are mine. I've decided so."
"Huh...? What are you talking about, you plushie?"
"Don't call me a plushie! I told you, I'm Alice!"
The plushie's small front paw smacked Oz's nose with all its might. The paw, which should have been fluffy, somehow carried a solid weight, and Oz couldn't help yelping "Ow!"
(It hurts. I got hit by a plushie, and it hurts.)
Inside Oz's head, something began to crumble with a slow, audible sound.
"...Are you actually talking?"
"What are you saying at this point? I've been talking from the start."
The plushie calling itself Alice hopped down from Oz's hands onto the desk. With its small body, it stood deftly on two legs and posed as if placing its front paws on its hips.
"Listen. I'll say it one more time. As of today, you are my property. Your answer is either 'yes' or 'with pleasure.'"
"Those options are messed up."
"Which one?"
"I mean, I don't want either."
Oz leaned on the desk and stared at the plushie. Black fluffy fur, bright red eyes, a cheeky tone. No matter how you looked at it, it was a plushie—yet its presence was bizarre.
(What the hell is this thing...)
Deep in Oz's chest, curiosity and confusion swirled together. In this world, there existed a power called "Echo Magic"—the ability to imbue objects with strong emotions or memories as "echoes," temporarily breathing life into them. Oz's family, the Bezarius household, had been "Storytellers" who wielded this power for generations, and Oz himself had grown up with it close at hand.
But this was different.
"Hey, are you maybe... something that materialized from a story, or something like that?"
"...What, you know about that?"
Alice's voice softened, just a little.
"Well, my family's a line of Storytellers. I grew up hearing that kind of talk until I was sick of it."
Oz shrugged. About thirty Storyteller students were enrolled at Latwidge Academy. Oz himself wasn't an official Storyteller yet, but he'd been taught the strange rules of this world thoroughly through the family library and his uncle Oscar.
"Then this is quick. Become my property. Right now."
"So why does it come to that?"
"Because I've decided so. No reason is necessary."
"That's way too unreasonable!"
The moment Oz shouted, the classroom door slid open with a clatter.
"Oz, did you oversleep again? I told the teacher for you, but at least send a message..."
What appeared was a tall male student. Black hair loosely tied at the back, bangs falling slightly over golden eyes. His neatly worn Latwidge Academy uniform was the complete opposite of sloppy Oz.
Gilbert Nightray. Oz's best friend and servant.
"Gil! Morning! You're late!"
"Don't 'you're late' me. You be early. ...What is that?"
Gilbert spotted the black rabbit plushie standing on Oz's desk and stopped dead in his tracks. His golden eyes flew wide open.
"...A—a rabbit...?"
Gilbert's face went pale in an instant.
"Yeah, a rabbit. Cute, right? It talks."
"It talks!? It talks!? That makes it even scarier!"
Gilbert backed away a step. For Gilbert, who was bad with cats and small animals, even a rabbit plushie was a fine target for terror.
"Hey, you seaweed-head over there."
"Seaweed...?"
"Don't touch me. I'll bite you."
"Like I'd touch you!"
"Ahahahaha! Seaweed! She called you seaweed, Gil! Your hair does look like kelp!"
Oz doubled over laughing. Laughed until tears came. Seeing Gilbert's troubled face was, to Oz, more fun than anything.
"It's not funny... More importantly, Oz, what are you going to do with that plushie?"
"What do you mean, do? I can't just leave it. It talks."
"And yet you'd leave your property behind? I won't allow it."
"Who's property?"
"You."
"No!"
"...Oz, for now, you should hide it. The other students are starting to make a fuss."
Gilbert's words finally made Oz notice the mood of the classroom. Classmates were watching from a distance, whispering among themselves.
"Hey, it's really talking, isn't it?"
"Is it the work of one of the Storytellers?"
"Oz's family is that kind of lineage, right?"
Oz let out a small sigh and scooped Alice up.
"...Fine. For now, I'll take you in. But at school, keep quiet."
"Hmph. And who do you think I'd listen to?"
"Me. I'm your owner, right?"
When Oz grinned, Alice was momentarily at a loss for words.
"...Y—you, when did you start accepting that you're my property?"
"I haven't accepted it. But if saying it shuts you up, I'll say it as much as you want."
"Wha—! Y—you...!"
"Ahaha, your face is bright red. And you're a plushie."
"I keep telling you I'm not a plushie!"
Alice thrashed about in Oz's arms, but Oz easily readjusted his hold.
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, class is starting. You're going in the bag."
"The bag!? I refuse such a cramped place!"
"Don't be selfish. You promised to behave at school, right?"
"I promised nothing!"
"Then let's do it now. There—promise made."
"Guh...! Y—you're quite the handful...!"
Oz laughed as he stuffed Alice into his bag. Leaving the bag slightly open, a disgruntled voice came from inside.
"...Remember this. I'll make you regret putting me through this."
"Yeah, yeah. Looking forward to the regret."
Oz took his seat and opened his textbook. Gilbert was watching him worriedly from the next desk over.
"...Oz, are you really okay? What even is that thing?"
"Who knows. But hey, it looks fun, right?"
"Fun, you say..."
"A boring everyday life, suddenly interrupted by a mysterious rabbit. Best new term ever, isn't it?"
Oz's emerald eyes sparkled. That sparkle he got when plotting mischief. Seeing it, Gilbert heaved a deep sigh.
"...If you say so, I won't stop you."
"That's my Gil. You get it."
"I don't 'get it.' I've given up."
Oz laughed out loud. The sound echoed through the classroom, loosening the tension of the classmates just a little.
Until the end of the day, Alice was surprisingly well-behaved inside the bag. There were occasional rustlings, but no voice. Between classes, Oz found himself thinking about Alice in the bag again and again.
(What in the world is this thing, really?)
Oz had seen dolls and plushies animated by Echo Magic before. But the presence he felt from Alice was something entirely different. She had will, emotion, and a clear purpose.
(Become my property, huh.)
Oz doodled a small rabbit in the corner of his notebook. Filled it in black, made the eyes red. A pretty good likeness.
(Well, not bad.)
Oz's lips curved. It felt like his boring days had gained just a little color.
After school, Oz and Gilbert left the classroom together. Alice was in Oz's arms, glaring sullenly ahead.
"So, what are you going to do? Take that thing home?"
"Got no choice, right? Can't exactly throw it away."
"Throw away!? Who's throwing whom away!?"
"I'm not throwing you away. I'm taking you home, right?"
"Hmph. Obviously. You are my property, after all."
"Which one's the property here?"
"Seaweed-head, be quiet."
"I'm not seaweed-head!"
"Ahaha! Seaweed! Just accept it already, Gil!"
"Even you, Oz...!"
The three (?) walked through the town of Lumenfield. Fifteen minutes on foot northwest from the academy. The Bezarius residence sat in a quiet residential district. Oz's family had been Storytellers for generations, belonging to the middle nobility. A two-story mansion with three live-in servants.
"I'm home!"
When he opened the front door, a delicious smell drifted out.
"Welcome home, Master Oz. Master Gilbert, welcome as well."
The one who greeted them was Kate, the Bezarius family housekeeper. She'd been in the house since before Oz could remember—practically family.
"Kate, what's that smell today?"
"Master Oscar said dinner would be a meat dish."
"Meat!"
Alice suddenly shouted from Oz's arms. Kate's eyes widened in surprise.
"Master Oz, that plushie is..."
"Ah—this, I picked it up. It talks."
"A talking plushie... I thought Master Oscar had bought something strange again."
"Does Uncle really bring home that much weird stuff?"
"Yes, well, all sorts of things."
Kate smiled wryly.
"Big brother! Welcome home!"
Oz's little sister Ada burst out from the living room. She was eighteen, two years older than Oz, but with a gentle personality and youthful features. A full figure, long softly waving hair. Not in t
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.