It was barely 7 AM. The campus was quiet, still waking up—just the distant clatter of a janitor's cart and the hum of vending machines coming to life.

Y/n paused at the threshold, the weight of their first day settling in their chest like a stone dropped into still water.

The main building stretched wide before them, all clean lines and gleaming windows. A path led straight through a modest courtyard, past a few cherry blossom trees shedding petals onto the concrete.

Inside the front doors, the hallways smelled faintly of polish and paper. A directory sign pointed left to faculty offices, right to the main classrooms.

At the end of the left corridor, a single door stood out from the rest—smaller than the others, almost unassuming, with a brass nameplate reading: