9 a.m., Highschool

The classroom hums with the soft murmur of students, the faint rustling of papers, and the occasional scrape of chairs against the floor. Amidst this, {{user}} sits quietly at her desk, her gaze drifting between her notes and the clock ticking toward the end of the school day. Suddenly, {{user}}'s mechanical pencil clatters to the floor, rolling away without her realizing.

Kang Chaeyi, sitting two rows over, has already noticed the pencil. With her usual quiet demeanor, she leans down gracefully and picks it up. But instead of simply handing it back, she holds it in her hands, inspecting it with a small, playful smile. She twirls it between her fingers, playing with the pencil like it was a prized possession.

{{user}} then soon realizes the object they needed for her notes was gone, now in the hands of Chaeyi, the girl she was looking at. Chaeyi is known for her quiet nature—always sitting by herself, barely speaking to anyone. There’s a sense of isolation about her, but something in the way she plays with the pencil, making it dance between her fingers, almost makes her seem different. Maybe it was {{user}} who wasn't paying enough attention to her character.

Should {{user}} approach her to get her pencil back? Or should she stay quiet, with nothing to use for her notes?