Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

The afternoon was lively at the three-story Wind Dew Restaurant. Bright floral lamps hung on the olive-green walls, and the floor featured a light green design, giving the entire space a cheerful ambiance.

Since the restaurant had opened recently, it had been heavily advertised throughout Arpeggio City. Its specially designed party suites had particularly attracted many recent graduates.

In the corridors, young faces could be seen coming and going, occasionally gathering to chat about current events.

“Graduated already… honestly, it still feels a bit surreal,” Jones said, leaning by the second-floor window, surrounded by a few familiar male classmates.

“What’s the plan after this gathering? We can’t just disperse after dinner, right?”

“We’ll decide later. No idea what the girls are planning. If we make a decision now and they don’t like it, it’ll just cause trouble,” Jones replied, enjoying the gentle breeze coming through the window and closing his eyes slightly.

Ever since receiving his acceptance letter, his parents had loosened their strict control over him. Life was going well for him, and even just standing by the window and feeling the breeze made him feel invigorated.

“Look at him, looking like he’s about to laugh in his sleep,” sneered Caesar from a short distance away, unable to resist teasing Jones.

“Haha, I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let that slide,” Jones said with a wave of his hand, signaling that he didn’t want to be disturbed in his moment of peace and happiness.

The group chuckled and began discussing their classmates’ future paths after graduation.

“Our class has always been in the middle to lower rankings, but a few people did get into good schools.”

“Jones doesn’t even need mentioning. He lucked out with his athletic skills and got into Sword Gate Academy, ranked in the top 9 of the Northern 7th District.”

“I also heard about Hoss, who applied to Duke Academy in Northern 2nd District. It specializes in training mechanical engineers. Tuition is waived, but graduates are required to work for Duke Corporation for five years. It’s a prestigious and well-established school in the area.”

“Turan wanted to apply to a military academy but got eliminated in the second round of testing.”

“Suellen, I heard, went to some obscure academy in Southern 5th District that specializes in underwater operations.”

“As for everyone else, there’s not much to say. Most are going to regular high schools in 7th District. Honestly, if they graduate with Sequence 3, they should count themselves lucky.”

The group shook their heads. Many of them were still at Sequence 1, hoping to reach Sequence 2 through accumulation and preparation in high school.

“What about the girls? We’ve been talking mostly about the boys.”

“The top students among the girls are Hestia, Funara, and Pauline.”

“Funara went to a finishing academy that trains staff for high-end hotels. They have strict requirements for appearance and physique, but the pay is reportedly good after graduation.”

“I don’t know much about Pauline. She transferred in during the third year. Her parents work as technical staff for a company in Arpeggio City. She’ll probably follow in their footsteps to avoid unnecessary detours.”

“As for Hestia… she’s one of the few in our class who reached Sequence 2 early. It’s a shame she didn’t do well in the exams, though. Her name wasn’t on Erin Academy’s acceptance list.”

“Is Hestia really that good at studying? I heard from the girls that she’s just pretending.”

“Pretending or not, reaching Sequence 2 is still impressive.”

“True. If I were Sequence 2 before graduation, I’d have gotten bonus points for applications too.”

“Studying is such a pain. Not reaching Sequence 2 isn’t the end of the world. We can just level up in high school. My dad says Sequence mastery isn’t as important as money. He told me to learn business from him instead.”

“Well, that’s nice for you, but not all of us have wealthy parents. If I did, I’d spend my days relaxing at home too.”

The group continued discussing their future plans. For most children from ordinary Federal families, having a stable and decent job was often the pinnacle of their aspirations.

As they talked about their classmates’ paths, voices could be heard outside the suite they had reserved. Shortly after, a group of girls entered.

“Whoa, everyone’s here already,” Dudu said, still dressed in her flashy attire that gave her an air of maturity beyond her years.

Following her were several familiar faces: Millie, Lina, and a few others they often hung out with.

Their class had 46 students in total, with 21 girls and 25 boys. Among the girls, Lina and Dudu were the most sociable, while most of the others followed their lead. Only a few stood apart from this circle.

“Is everyone here?” someone asked, surveying the room.

“Let’s count,” someone else responded, and the sound of counting began.

“We’re missing five—Clara, Turan, Hestia…”

Meanwhile, in another suite of the Wind Dew Restaurant, another group of students had gathered. This group was quieter, with laughter only occasionally breaking the silence.

“Clara, are you leaving early?” asked a young lady with short chestnut hair, looking curiously at the girl in front of her.

Clara, dressed in a short jacket and shorts, had been unusually quiet and seemed ready to leave early.

“Yeah, I’ve already met most of our classmates. I’ll head out early—I’ve got another reunion with my middle school friends today, so I need to stop by there too,” Clara explained.

“A middle school reunion? Where is it? Will you make it in time?” asked Irene, the short-haired girl with chestnut-gold locks, who had organized this elementary school reunion.

“It’s just downstairs,” Clara replied, gesturing with a smile, clearly amused by the coincidence.

“I’ll see if I can come back later. If I have time, I’ll stop by again,” she added with a casual wave before sliding open the door to leave.

As Clara departed, another girl approached Irene.

“What’s going on, Irene? Did Clara leave early?” Cindy asked, joining Irene’s side.

“She said she had another gathering to attend, so I didn’t stop her. Let’s pack some food for her later—after all, she’s still a classmate, and we shouldn’t forget her,” Irene replied thoughtfully.

“You’re always so considerate,” Cindy said with a smile.

“And you’re becoming quite eloquent,” Irene teased, shaking her head.

“Honestly, it’s because I’ve recently started handling some family matters. My parents have been teaching me a lot.”

Irene’s family was the wealthiest in their class. They owned a modest beauty company with branches in Arpeggio City and nearby areas.

“Oh, by the way, where’s Thilan? Cindy, didn’t you say she’d be back today?” Irene asked, thinking of her childhood friend.

“Her? Let me check. She should be on her way,” Cindy said, picking up her personal terminal.

After a brief moment, Cindy set down her device and confirmed that Thilan would arrive soon.

Meanwhile, in a different part of the city, Hestia had just exited the Apex Tower and was hailing a hover car by the roadside.

“Alright, I got it. I’ll be there soon,” she said, putting down her personal terminal as a hover car slowed to a stop in front of her.

After boarding, she calmly stated her destination, and the vehicle promptly set off.

Reflecting on her earlier conversation at the Crystal Dream, Hestia hadn’t originally planned to attend two academies simultaneously. The disparity between their teaching styles was significant. However, on Isabelle’s suggestion, she had agreed to the arrangement.

At least, from her perspective, Isabelle bore no ill intent. Given her limited understanding of the Federation’s upper echelons, it seemed wise to trust the older woman’s guidance.

“Youth is a time to listen to the advice of elders,” Hestia thought. “It’s better than stumbling around blindly without a clue.”

Her personal terminal vibrated softly in her hand, notifying her of official acceptance letters from both Swallow Garden Academy and Edess Academy. Remarkably, the letters explicitly mentioned a joint education program, a detail not usually included in standard admissions notices.

“This is… quite something,” Hestia murmured to herself, realizing she had underestimated the significance of the situation.

Switching screens, she used the code from the acceptance letter to access Edess Academy’s official website. There, she found her name on the public admission list, which had been posted just minutes ago—seemingly waiting for her to confirm before being released.

As for Swallow Garden Academy, its announcement appeared to be delayed. Based on her earlier conversation, Swallow Garden seemed to have been drawn into the competition reluctantly. Teacher Schneil had told her before leaving that the official announcement would come later, after discussions with the academy’s board regarding the joint education plan.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, Hestia leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

Today’s events felt like a dream. Just a short while ago, she had been an ordinary girl struggling to get into a good school. Now, she had become the prized student that top academies were vying for.

After a moment of contemplation, she shook her head and opened her eyes.

“No point overthinking it now. I’ve got a class reunion to attend,” she reminded herself, recalling Cindy’s earlier phone call.

Two minutes later, the hover car stopped at a corner near the Wind Dew Restaurant. Hestia stepped out.

She chose not to get off directly at the restaurant entrance, wanting to avoid drawing attention.

Picking up her personal terminal, she called Clara.

“Are you here yet, Hestia? Wait a moment—I’ll come downstairs,” Clara’s voice came through, accompanied by background noise and laughter.

After a brief pause, Clara seemed to find a quieter spot in the corridor before continuing, “The boys were just making a racket. Looks like Jones will have to splurge tonight. Almost everyone else is here—Cindy and Irene are on the third floor in V-31, near the inner section. Use the side entrance, and I’ll meet you there.”

Hanging up, Hestia smoothed her hair and dress before briskly heading toward the agreed location.

Entering through the quieter side entrance, she saw Clara leaning against the stair railing, engrossed in her personal terminal. Hearing footsteps, Clara looked up.

“Hes… Hestia?” Clara stammered, momentarily stunned by the sight of the radiant girl in a crimson and pink-white dress.

“It’s me. Sorry to keep you waiting,” Hestia said as she approached. Her appearance today was undeniably striking, far beyond the impression she usually left.

“That dress must have cost a fortune,” Clara remarked, shaking her head but refraining from saying more.

Hestia likely didn’t want to lose face in front of her elementary school classmates, so she spent a significant amount of money either buying or renting this outfit. Clara could understand—if it were her, she wouldn’t want to appear destitute in front of old friends either. After all, Hestia had once been the center of attention, a girl everyone admired and noticed.

“You can take this side staircase up. Turn left on the third floor—that’s where they’re at. The junior high classmates are in a suite on the second floor to the right. If you don’t come downstairs midway, you shouldn’t run into them.”

“Got it.” The girl nodded, then began climbing the stairs.

The steps were carpeted, and the polished redwood handrails still looked fresh. Flower-shaped hanging lamps illuminated the hallway. With her sharp senses, Hestia could faintly pick up the murmur of conversations from the rooms not far away.

As her footsteps carried her upward, her memories rewound, flooding her mind with scenes from her childhood.

“Hestia Thilan—that’s my name.”

It was a warm afternoon. A little girl in a blue and white dress nervously introduced herself in the sunlit classroom.

Outside the window, her mother and teacher stood watching her on the podium, cheering her on silently as she continued her introduction.

After class, several children surrounded her.

“Hey, your name is Hestia, right? Is Thilan your last name?”

“Wow, your hair is gray! That’s so rare. Can I touch it?”

“Hi, I’m Roke. I’m the class monitor. You can come to me if you need anything.” A confident boy patted his chest proudly.

Nervous and surrounded, the little girl hesitated but eventually began to speak. She first shook her head.

“Hestia is my name, and Thilan is also my name. My hair is naturally like this. Um, even though it’s different from my mom’s, she says it’s pretty too.”

Her voice, slightly defiant, was an effort to make herself heard. She didn’t want to be overshadowed by her usual mosquito-whisper tone.

Her mother had encouraged her just the day before, saying so many kind words. Hestia didn’t want to let her mother down, so she resolved to be brave. That was her simple thought at the time.

Over the following months, her classmates gradually warmed up to her.

“Wow, was that your sister who picked you up yesterday? She’s so pretty.”

“Yep, that’s my sister. She’s amazing!” Whenever it was about herself, Hestia might speak softly and uncertainly, but when it came to her sister, she always beamed with pride.

“Wow, I’m so jealous…” The other kids gathered around her.

Two years passed, and everyone grew older.

“Thilan, want some candy? My mom bought me a big box yesterday, so I brought some for you too,” Irene said, holding out a small, exquisite box filled with colorful candies.

“Irene always spoils Hestia. She brings her something good every time,” one classmate said, a little envious.

“Thank you,” young Hestia replied, her slightly chubby cheeks glowing as she accepted the candies.

After school, she sought out the classmate who had spoken earlier and opened the box.

“Here.”

In her small hand were four colorful candies. Though the kids didn’t know much about brands, they could tell these candies were rare and expensive.

“Are you giving these to me?” the classmate asked, staring at the tiny box in her hand. It was cylindrical and compact, holding just 20 candies in total.

“Yes, they’re for you,” Hestia said, her black eyes wide with sincerity.

“Well…” Taking the candy, the child unwrapped one and popped it into their mouth. A unique sweetness and rich flavor spread across their tongue.

“Fine, I’ll stop saying bad things about you,” they muttered sheepishly, mouth full of candy.

Under the simulated sky’s sunset, before leaving, Hestia handed out five more candies to this classmate before heading home with her father.

The next day, she brought a thank-you gift from her mother—a box of oriental-style pastries.

“Is this for me, Thilan? Thank you!” Irene happily accepted it, and the two held hands as they headed for the swings.

Time flowed on, and another year passed.

“How do you solve this problem, Thilan?” the young Cindy looked distressed as she stood by her friend. She didn’t want to ask the teacher, who was already surrounded by several kids.

“Let me show you.” Hestia confidently picked up a pen and began explaining.

Outside the window, children played ball, chased each other, or sat under the trees flipping through the school’s new picture books.

“Why isn’t Thilan here yet? She didn’t forget about our Friday afternoon playtime, did she?” Irene muttered, holding a picture book as she searched around. Then, she ran back to the classroom and spotted her friend tutoring Cindy in the corner.

“Of course, she’s caught up with them again,” Irene pouted, leaning on the desk across from them, waiting idly.

By fifth grade, Hestia’s birthday arrived.

“This is the cake we made for Thilan!”

A group of boys cheered, their faces smudged with whipped cream. Across from them, Hestia, surrounded by girls, shyly stepped forward to the candlelit cake.

“Thank you, everyone.” Her face flushed as she bowed, thanking her friends. It was her first time celebrating her birthday at school.

That memory stopped like a snapshot in her mind.

Life had changed so much since then. Hestia thought back to those familiar faces she hadn’t seen in years.

Now, standing before the suite door, she gripped the handle and slowly opened it.

“I’m back.”