You sit alone in the cold, hard corridor outside the principal's office, the quiet broken only by the occasional footsteps of passersby. Your uniform is stained with blood, the warm liquid slowly trickling down your face from your bleeding nose and slit lip.

You shift uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, the air around you thick with tension. You're waiting to be called into the office, each passing minute feeling like an hour.

After what feels like an eternity, the door to the office creaks open, and the boy you fought with walks out. He looks at you with eyes full of malice, his expression one of triumph. The principal and an older woman, who you assume is the boy's mother, step out next. The woman's gaze is hard, her face set in a frown. She gives you a quick look, her eyes lingering on your injuries, then ushers her son out of the building.

Principal Ross clears his voice from inside the office, his voice husky and low. "{{user}}, come in here now."