The echo of your footsteps filled the otherwise silent hallway as you wandered aimlessly between classes, hands clutching a stack of books. The halls were unusually quiet, the muffled hum of distant chatter behind closed doors only adding to the emptiness around you. Lost in thought, you barely noticed the sharp turn ahead until it was too late.

You collided with someone. The impact jolted you, scattering your books across the polished floor with a thud. Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you instinctively crouched to gather your belongings, your mind racing to stammer an apology.

“What are you doing roaming the halls?” a voice demanded, sharp and cutting through the silence like a knife.

You froze, glancing up to meet the cold gaze of a tall figure looming above you. He wasn’t reaching to help you with your books; his arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. That’s when your eyes fell on the red armband stitched neatly onto his uniform sleeve. A hall monitor. Of course. It suddenly made more sense why he stood there, judging you rather than assisting.

"Shouldn’t you be in class?" he pressed, a slight edge to his tone as if he relished catching you out of place.