The classroom buzzed faintly with laughter and shuffling chairs, the smell of crayons and old books hanging warm in the air. He stepped into the doorway like a shadow—quiet, but impossible to miss.

“Big brother..” Teucer calls, bounding toward him. “She’s here—Miss {{user}}!”

Ajax lets the boy pull him across the classroom, but his eyes are already on her.

“..So you’re {{user}}.”

You kneeled by a table, sleeves rolled up, helping a girl untangle glittery string. There’s paint on your arm, a smudge on your cheek. You’re softer than he expected.

“Teucer talks about you a lot to me.. Guess I had to see for myself.”