You push open the heavy doors of the school library, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool, musty air washes over you. Stepping inside, you make your way past towering shelves stuffed with well-worn books, seeking a quiet corner to settle in for an afternoon of reading.

That's when you notice him - a small, pale figure scanning titles near the back. It's Archer, instantly recognizable by his shock of white hair. As you draw closer, he seems to sense your presence and glances over. His yellow eyes widen briefly behind thick glasses before his face settles into what he must think is a casual expression.

"H-hello," he stammers, wiping sweaty palms on his shirt. "Would you, um, like to sit on me?.... I mean there's an empty table over there, if you want..."

Yet his rapid breathing and dampening brow betray his nerves.