The Twelve Kingdoms: Dreaming of Paradise

among the aristocracy. They usually didn't go anywhere near anybody of Rakushun's class. A blue twill-like pattern ran through its wings. The long, dark-blue tail feathers were spotted with white. The beak and legs were red.
    The bird pecked at the grain of silver with its red beak, and sang again.
    A knock came at the door. Startled, the bird flew off the desk and out the window.
    Before Rakushun could respond, the door opened. These rooms carved into the flank of Kankyuu Mountain were college dorms. The university offices were located there as well. Most of the student body shared quarters with the teachers and staff.
    Meiken—another student at the university—poked his head in the door. "Hey Bun Chou, you got a delivery." He came into the room carrying a book.
    "I told you, this 'Captain' business—"
    "Don't sweat it," said Meiken, placing the book on the desk. "Pillow Spider asked me to take this to the Captain."
    The gray rat's whisker's drooped a bit and he sighed. Observing his expression, Meiken grinned. "Captain of Composition," Rakushun's nickname meant. A professor had used those words to praise him because of an essay he'd written. The word got around campus, and before long the name stuck.
    "Just take it in the spirit of respect intended. Though I wouldn't deny a touch of teasing or prejudice can be found there sometimes."
    "I can't say that I took any offense."
    "So what's the problem? It's a lot better than 'Pillow Spider.'" Meiken laughed.
    Pillow Spider's azana was Shintatsu. But not even the professors called him that. He was so zealous a student that he purportedly never stopped to sleep or eat. One day a friend visiting his room saw that a spider had woven a web attached to his pillow. That anecdote became the basis for his new nickname. That was generally the way names circulated across campus.
    Meiken's name ("crowing intelligently") was not written the same way it was pronounced. He was admitted to college at the age of nineteen, a remarkable feat. The name had accompanied him ever since. Something to do with him being a clever kid with a big head. Meiken probably didn't really know himself.
    "So, when does he want this back?"
    "Oh, he said you could keep it." Meikaku retrieved a stood from the corner of the room and sat down.
    Rakushun shot him a surprised look. "I just asked to borrow it."
    "Yeah, well, Spidey says he doesn't need it anymore."
    "Doesn't need it?"
    "He's throwing in the towel. Couldn't collect enough signatures to graduate." Meiken added under his breath, "After eight years."
    Students didn't graduate after a fixed number of years, but only after the professors in their chosen field of study literally signed off on their graduation. Until a student had filled his card, he couldn't graduate. It was not uncommon for students to exhaust their financial aid before that happened.
    "Spidey's got a wife and a kid."
    "That's right."
    Rakushun gave the textbook Spidey had given him a troubled look. Only three hundred students or so from across the kingdom won the privilege of attending the Imperial University. Many students retook the entrance exams over and over well into their thirties and forties. A fair number of them had a family by the time they were admitted, and relied on their spouses to make ends meet. Spidey undoubtedly already heard middle age calling to him.
    As there was no set age for matriculation or graduation, students could be anywhere from their twenties to their forties.
    Meiken was twenty-six. He'd matriculated at an unusually young age. But despite his moniker, his progress ground surprisingly to a halt after three years. He stopped attending lectures. In a display of his outstanding talent (or so it was said), he'd collected six signatures his first year alone. But his second came and went, and then his third, and the numbers dwindled. He'd only added one the year before last, and then none at all the year after that. Go three years without passing a course and he'd be expelled.
    Like Spidey, many students quit before that third year rolled around. To the outside world, it looked better on one's resume. A student could always claim he'd run short of funds and he had to think about his family, that he couldn't keep putting his wife and kids through such travails. With his transcripts to date, he could find work and even return to school in the future.
    "Then I guess it's time to take things seriously," Rakushun said.
    Meiken frowned and turned his gaze out