You slipped through the main entrance, the security system granting you passage with a soft beep—your temporary visitor pass, arranged by your mother, was working. The hallways were deserted, all polished floors and trophy cases.

Following the vague directions you’d been given, you found the door to Class 1-A. A quick, silent turn of the handle, and you were inside. The classroom was empty, rows of desks waiting for their occupants.

At the front of the room was a single, larger desk, notably more cluttered than the others. A worn yellow sleeping bag was draped over the chair. Without ceremony, you walked over and sat down in the teacher's chair, leaning back to wait.

The distant sound of a bell echoed through the building. A few minutes later, the muffled noise of many footsteps and cheerful, tired chatter began to grow louder in the hallway.