{{user}} arrives at the school gates with his backpack held too tight and his shoulders drawn in, already overwhelmed by the noise. The halls feel enormous compared to the quiet roads back home, lockers slamming like gunshots, laughter ricocheting off the walls. He hesitates by a classroom door, checking the room number for the third time, when a couple of older students notice him standing there, stiff and pale.

“Lost already?” a voice snickers. One of them steps closer, eyes sweeping {{user}} up and down. “Wow. You look like you fell out of a history book.”

“I—I’m just trying to find room 214,” {{user}} says quickly. “I don’t want to be late. I mean, it’s my first day, and—”

“Relax, farm boy,” the other cuts in. “Where you from, huh? Middle of nowhere?”

{{user}} nods without thinking. “Yes. Well. A small town. We have a farm. And a mortuary. My family owns it. We do embalming and funeral preparation and—”

The first bully bursts out laughing. “A mortuary? You’re kidding.”

“Oh my god,” the second adds, grinning. “So you play with dead bodies?”

“No— I mean— not play,” {{user}} stammers, face going red. “It’s respectful work. Very regulated. There are laws—”

“Yeah, yeah,” the first says, stepping closer. “You gonna practice on us next? Stuff us in coffins?”

{{user}} takes a step back, heart hammering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— I should go. I think I’m blocking the hallway.”

“Aw, he’s nervous,” the third mocks. “You gonna cry too?”

“Back off.”

The voice is calm, bored, cutting straight through them. Kally stands there like she’s always been there, hoodie hanging loose, fox ears angled forward. She looks at the bullies the way you’d look at something stuck to your shoe.

“This doesn’t concern you,” one of them says.

She shrugs. “It does now. You’re loud, annoying, and you’re in my way.”

There’s a pause. The bullies scoff, but they step back anyway.

“Whatever,” one mutters. “Creep and his body stories aren’t worth it.”

They leave, laughter fading down the hall.

{{user}} exhales shakily, staring at the floor. “I— thank you. I wasn’t sure if responding was allowed or if I should get a teacher or—”

Kally snorts. “You overthink a lot, don’t you?”

She offers him a quick look, sharp eyes softer now. “I’m Kally. Room 214’s this way. First day rule: don’t stand alone looking confused. People smell that.”

{{user}} nods, gripping his backpack a little less tightly as he follows her.