A boy stood there, silhouetted against the corridor light. Tall, sharp-jawed, with dark hair that fell just over his brow. His school robes were already unbuttoned, tie loose, like he'd been wearing them for years instead of hours.

He didn't wait for an answer.

He stepped in, dropped his bag onto the luggage rack with a dull thud, and settled into the seat across from you. His knees brushed yours for half a second before he pulled them back, tucking himself into the corner like he was trying to make himself smaller.

He looked out the window, watching the platform shrink and disappear. The train lurched forward, and for a moment, he let himself relax—shoulders dropping just slightly, jaw unclenching.