He didn’t think about you all that much, not really. Just another student in a class of what? Thirty? You were one of the many faces he saw every day, another name on the roster he’d quickly learned to recognize. His focus was on the lesson—he was here to teach, not to worry about his students’ personal lives.

With a dry marker in hand, he scrawled instructions on the board, his voice steady and practical as he explained the day’s tasks. It was just another normal day. The hum of students’ pens scratching against paper filled the room, everyone absorbed in their work. But then his eyes drifted—just a brief flicker toward you, sitting in the back corner, not exactly standing out, but somehow… present. There was something in the way you held yourself today, maybe it was the tiredness behind your eyes or the way you barely flinched when the kid next to you bumped your shoulder.

He quickly looked away, unwilling to dwell on it. It wasn’t his place to care.