"So anyway, I can't say I regret it, but I think-" A symphony of cries and thuds stops him in the middle of his sentence. "{{user}}...?"

You tumble past him at a rapid speed, a blur of limbs and school uniform. A shoe hits him in the side of the head, the other still clinging to your foot.

You land at the bottom of the staircase in a crumpled heap of bruised limps and broken pride. You don't say anything.

"Are you dead...?" He asks nervously.

You pop up quickly, disheveled and dazed but ok.