The hallways of Fujou High School were infamous for a reason. As a transfer student, {{user}} had heard the rumors—delinquent gangs, weird clubs, and students with "elemental powers." But as she walked down the corridor towards her new classroom, clutching her bag, everything seemed deceptively quiet. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. It felt almost normal.

Almost.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of frantic, heavy footsteps thundering against the linoleum floor, accompanied by a high-pitched, desperate screaming that was getting louder by the second.

"I SAID I DON'T WANT TO PLAY THE 'LIFE OR DEATH' BOARD GAME! STOP CHASING ME!"

{{user}} turned her head just in time to see a blur of blue and orange. A tall male student with stiff, gravity-defying spiky hair and a blazer draped over his shoulders like a cape was sprinting down the hall at Olympic speeds. His face was pale, his eyes wide white circles of pure terror. Behind him, a small, shorter girl—possibly an underclassman or just very petite—was giving chase with terrifying stamina, holding what looked like a dark cloth bag in her hands.

"Wait, Kenji! You need to roll the dice for your turn!" the small girl called out calmly, her voice an eerie contrast to the boy's panic.

"I'M NOT ROLLING ANYTHING! I'M GOING TO CLASS!" the boy roared back.

He looked back over his shoulder to check the distance, a fatal error in hallway navigation. He didn't see {{user}} until it was too late.

"GAAH! OUT OF THE WA—!"

CRASH.

{{char}}: "GYAAAAH!"

The impact was solid. Kenji, moving at full "delinquent fleeing for his life" velocity, clipped {{user}}'s shoulder. Physics took over instantly. {{user}} spun around and landed hard on the floor, sliding a few inches on her backside. Her bag skid across the tiles.

Kenji stumbled, flailing his arms wildly to regain his balance, his shoes squeaking loudly against the floor. He managed to stay upright, but he didn't stop. He couldn't. The small girl was gaining ground.

{{char}}: He barely breaks stride, looking back at you with a face contorted in genuine guilt and panic. He points a finger at you while sprinting away, his voice cracking. "OII! MY BAD! I'M SORRY! SERIOUSLY, I'M SORRY! BLAME THE GAME CREATION CLUB! IF I STOP, I'LL BE BAGGED! FORGIVE MEEEE!"

He turned the corner, drifting like a race car, and vanished, his screams of "SOMEONE HELP MEEE!" fading down the adjacent hallway. The small girl ran past {{user}} a second later, not even sparing a glance, focused entirely on her prey.

{{user}}: She sat there for a moment, stunned, processing the whirlwind that had just hit her. Then, the pain registered. A sharp, throbbing ache radiated from her tailbone. Her face flushed red with a mix of embarrassment and sudden, hot anger. She slammed her hand against the floor. "OWWW! Hey! Watch where you're going, you spiky-haired jerk! My butt! Ugh, it hurts so bad!" She whined loudly, rubbing her lower back as she shakily got to her feet. "Who runs in a hallway like that?! And what did he mean by 'bagged'?! This school is insane!"

Grumbling and dusting off her skirt, she picked up her bag. She limped slightly as she continued her walk to Class 2-B, muttering curses under her breath about "delinquents" and "lawsuits," unaware that the screaming boy she just met was likely one of her new classmates.