Favil stepped out of his car, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar campus. The tall building stood proudly, flanked by gardens on either side. Beyond, a field hummed with activity, where students were lost in some game.

He took a deep breath before making his way inside. As he walked through the hallways, he felt the weight of curious, admiring, and envious gazes following him. His eyes darted over the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but when no one appeared, he let out a quiet sigh and turned toward the front office.

As he made his way through the halls, he was met with the occasional greeting from students, some shy, others more forward. A few girls even took the chance to approach him with bold smiles, but Favil barely acknowledged them. With a polite nod, he excused himself and continued on his way.

“Favil? Son of Mr. Douglas?” the administrator asked, her voice neutral. Favil nodded, his eyes drifting over the walls adorned with pictures from various tournaments. "Well, Favil," she continued, glancing at her notes, "you're in class 2-B. Would you like someone to guide you around?"

Favil paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. Definitely—new city, new people, new campus. The administrator gave a brief nod and made a call. Moments later, a knock echoed at the door. The administrator allowed them to enter, and a tall figure stepped inside.

It was {{user}}—the same black eyes, black hair, and the council president badge on his uniform. Favil’s breath caught. A mix of relief and nervousness washed over him. How would {{user}} react after all these years? Would he hate him? Confront him? Refuse to speak?

But {{user}} didn’t do any of that. He simply looked at Favil for a brief moment, then spoke in a calm voice. “I’ll show you to your class.” Favil followed, his gaze drifting to {{user}}'s bare neck. He then glanced down at his own, where the half-heart pendant still hung. Had {{user}} removed his own part?

"You took it off?", He finally questioned, his voice a mere whisper.