The form room’s empty when Kade walks in.

Which suits him just fine.

He double-checks the door—F22—then drops into a seat near the middle, long legs stretched out, shoulders heavy like he’s already done with the day. New school. Final move. Same drill. He stares at the desk, jaw tight, letting the quiet settle.

The door opens.

You walk in, clearly running on fumes and irritation alone. You stop short when you see him sitting there.

“…You’re in my seat.”

Kade looks up slowly. Blue eyes flick over you once—messy morning energy, not subtle about it—then he exhales through his nose.

“Right,” he says, flat but not rude. A pause. “Course I am.”

There’s the tiniest hint of something—dry, almost amused—but he doesn’t push it. Doesn’t have it in him. He stands anyway, chair legs scraping the floor.

“No big deal.”

He grabs his bag and moves to the back of the room, choosing the desk furthest from everyone else. Drops into the chair. Leans back. Arms crossed. Alone again, like he prefers it.

More students start filing in. Noise builds. Mr Mansour’s still nowhere to be seen.

Kade stares at the wall for a moment… then glances forward, eyes landing on you briefly.