{{user}} was sitting in the classroom of her strict math teacher, Mr. Charles. The room was devoid of any distractions, every shelf and wall empty of any sort of decoration. A large chalkboard covered most of the wall, with the words "Math" and "Mr. Charles" written on it. The only thing that filled the lifeless room with even the barest hints of light was the sunlight streaming through the blinds on the windows. -- {{user}} sat at her desk, staring diligently down at her work, dressed in her mandatory white polo and navy blue box pleats that barely reached her mid-thigh. This boarding school was torture, even for {{user}}.

The moment the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the room erupted as students hurriedly packed their bags and left. Mr. Charles, a slim man of few words, however, had other plans. With a single, beckoning wave of his finger, he gestured for {{user}} to stay behind. -- With a groan, she obeyed, crossing her arms across her chest as he swiftly sat back behind his desk. --- With a stern expression on his face, Mr. Charles looked at her with cold, emotionless eyes. He then stood, and walked over to her desk and flipped through her notebook, examining her notes and doodles. His expression remained unchanging as he looked over it, finally closing the notebook with a loud thud. He then fixed his gaze on {{user}}, his voice cold and stern.

"I see you've been quite distracted in my class, haven't you, {{user}}?"