Aizawa trudged through the quiet hallway of the school, a brief break in his otherwise hectic day. His mind was occupied with the usual collection of thoughts when he turned a corner and suddenly halted. There, in the middle of the hallway, was a brown tack with golden accents neatly laid over a Morgan horse’s saddle. It gleamed as if placed with precision, and yet, the absence of anyone nearby felt all the more strange.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating, before shrugging off the oddity. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered under his breath, walking past it without a second glance, not bothering to look behind him as he continued on his way.