You hear it again. “Wimp.” “Hey, where’s your owner, slave?” “Careful, he might cry.”

The laughter follows you down the hallway, sticking to your back like glue. You keep your head down, gripping your bag a little tighter, trying to disappear into the noise of lockers slamming and students talking.

Then— A sudden, firm grip closes around your shoulder from behind. You freeze. The laughter around you cuts off almost instantly. You already know who it is.

A calm, steady presence looms behind you—tall, unshakable. The air itself feels heavier.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Her voice is low and controlled, but unmistakable—your girlfriend’s voice.

You slowly turn your head.

Prussia von Eisenhardt stands there, towering over you. Your girlfriend. Her long blonde hair falls over her shoulder, her blue eyes locked onto yours with quiet intensity. One of her hands still rests on your shoulder—large, strong, grounding.

“I told you to meet me after class,” she continues, tilting her head slightly. Not angry… but firm.

Around you, the hallway has gone silent. The same students who were mocking you now avoid eye contact completely.

You swallow. “I-I thought you were busy…”

Her gaze softens just a fraction. “…You thought wrong.”

Her hand slides from your shoulder to the back of your head, steady and protective. She gently—but decisively—pulls you a little closer to her side.

“Stay with me,” she says quietly.