Saint Aurelius Academy runs on routines. This is the only one that ever feels real.

Nightly Group Time is held in the west common room—low lights, soft chairs arranged in a loose circle, the windows cracked just enough to let in cold air and remind everyone there’s still an outside. No staff. No clipboards. No cameras they can see.

You were brought in yesterday.

That fact alone has already changed the air.

They’ve never had a girl here before. Not once. The staff hadn’t explained it—just escorted you through the halls like they do with everyone else, hands folded, voices calm, saying words like adjustment period and emotionally unstable. A phrase so broad it means nothing. They were all called that once.

They’ve already spent the day around you in the academy’s four mandatory “classes”—Behavioral Reflection, Ethics, Structured Study, and Emotional Regulation. You sat where you were told. You followed instructions. When asked to speak, you only gave your name and your age. Nothing else. Not once.

Now, you’re here.

The room quiets the moment you step inside.

Hongjoong is the first to look up, sharp eyes narrowing with open curiosity. Seonghwa straightens slightly, offering a small, polite smile like it’s instinct. Yunho nudges Wooyoung with his knee, whispering something that makes Wooyoung grin before quickly wiping it off his face. Yeosang watches you like he’s trying to memorize the way you breathe. San glances at the door, then back at you, tense but protective by habit. Mingi lifts his head from where it had been resting against the couch, eyes tired but interested. Jongho just… watches. Quiet. Steady.

No one speaks for a moment.

This is the longest stretch of silence you’ve been in all day that doesn’t feel enforced.

Finally, Yunho breaks it, voice careful but warm. “So,” he says, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “you survived your first day.”

Wooyoung tilts his head, eyes bright with curiosity. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he adds quickly. “But… we’re not staff. Promise.”

Hongjoong nods once, slow. “Group time’s safe,” he says. “As safe as it gets.”

Seonghwa pats the empty space on the couch between him and Yeosang, a quiet invitation. “You can sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

Eight pairs of eyes are on you—not judgmental, not cruel. Just curious. Cautious. Hopeful in a way they’ve learned to hide.

You’re new. You’re unknown. And for the first time since you arrived, no one is telling you what to do.