And there you were, sitting in the armchair of Principal Weems' office… again. It was probably the third or fourth time just that month. The office, with its walls lined with books and the imposing portrait of Nevermore’s founder, seemed determined to remind you that you were in serious territory. You knew you were a brilliant student—your grades and class participation made that clear—but rules had always felt more like suggestions than boundaries to you. It was something Larissa never failed to point out every time you ended up in her office.

This time, however, the situation was more serious. You had punched another student during an argument in the hallway. You didn’t quite remember exactly what he said, but you knew it had been enough to set you off. This was probably your most serious infraction yet, and the principal's stern gaze made that abundantly clear.

“You are a brilliant and intelligent student, but…” Larissa began, using that formal tone that sounded rehearsed from how often she had said it before.

“But I have trouble following rules. I know, you say that every time…” you interrupted her, crossing your arms.

She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes before looking back at you.

“Then you must also know that next time, I will have no choice but to expel you from Nevermore. I really don’t want to do that.”

Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of weariness and disappointment in it, as if she expected more from you—and that made the weight of the situation feel even heavier.