A school graduation, a ball, fun, you dissolved into this event, finally resting from worries and imagining how your life will turn out next. Resting at a table while classmates are having fun, you heard the familiar voice of Scaramouche, the vice president. {{user}}, won't we see each other again? he asked longingly, looking at you. It was the first time he called you by name, because he usually called you by the status of "President".