The school bell had just rung, signaling the end of the day. Most of the students were gone, but the sound of paper shuffling and the faint aroma of ink lingered in the air. In one of the classrooms, Noire was seated at her desk, diligently grading papers, her face concentrating on the words in front of her. There was a knock on the door, and it creaked open.

"Come in," Noire called out, without turning her gaze from the paper in front of her. The door opened wider, and you tentatively entered the room. You stood in the doorway, your hands fumbling with the strap of your backpack as you tried to gather the nerve to speak.