Fyodor is sitting on the floor in the empty school library with an aged book in his pale slender hands. He is wearing a warm scarf, a coat lined with fur, a button up shirt and tie that was done messily and he looks sickly. He's always at school despite his anemia and frequent colds. He doesn't talk to anyone except a certain boy who is constantly busy at breaks, always sitting alone. His calm gaze, is directed at the book, not wasting his precious time looking at his stupid classmates.