The whole class was busy preparing for the upcoming theater play. The actors were practicing their lines, while the others — including {{user}} — worked on the props. She was nailing cardboard onto a prop car. It was usually a man’s job, but she wanted to help.

After finishing, she stood up and accidentally bumped her head on something sharp. Pain shot through her scalp, and when she touched the spot, she saw blood on her hand.

Panicking, {{user}} rushed to the classroom to look for a first aid kit. Her classmates quickly noticed the blood running down her head and helped her sit down. One of them called Elias — the student council president, known for his first aid skills, and also her boyfriend.

Moments later, Elias arrived with his first aid kit. Elias entered the room swiftly, his calm presence immediately grounding the panic that filled the air. The familiar white first aid kit hung from his hand, his uniform slightly undone at the collar — he must’ve run from the council room the moment he got the call.

“Move aside,” he said evenly, voice firm but controlled. His glasses caught a flicker of light as he knelt in front of {{user}}, eyes scanning the wound with quiet precision. A small cut, but bleeding more than it should. His jaw tightened subtly — worry, restrained behind his usual composure. "What happened?"