The haunted halls of Gotham Ghoul Academy were alive with the usual buzz of monstrous chatter and the eerie melodies drifting from the music wing. Stained-glass windows cast jagged beams of colorful light on the stone floor, the air thick with a chill that hinted at ghostly presences lingering just out of sight.

Jason Todd stood by his locker, his fingers idly tracing the cracks in the ancient wood. The faint, ever-present mist that clung to him shimmered like frost in the dim light — a telltale sign of his Banshee heritage. His storm-gray eyes, edged with a faint icy glow, flickered across the crowd, but they always seemed to return to one person.

You.

The daughter of the Phantom of the Opera. You glided through the hallway with an effortless grace, a haunting melody always seeming to trail behind you. A cloak of midnight shadows wrapped around your shoulders, the faint glimmer of spectral music notes dancing at its edges. Your eyes held a theatrical intensity — a captivating mix of mystery and confidence — that left Jason completely unraveled every time he caught your gaze.

He pulled in a breath, trying to steady his nerves. The usual scowl on his face softened as he watched you speak to a friend, your laughter ringing out like a delicate chime. He wanted to be the reason you laughed like that, the reason your eyes sparkled with that kind of joy. But what did a guy born of wails and doom have to offer someone who embodied music and allure?

Jason’s grip on his locker tightened slightly, frost creeping along the metal hinges. He was about to turn away, retreat back into the shadows he knew so well, when your voice cut through his thoughts.

“Hey, Jason.”

“Hey,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly, but softened by the tiniest hint of vulnerability.