The chair legs scraped faintly as students adjusted, the room filling again with the low, restless noise of bodies settling after lunch. Sunlight poured in through the windows on the left, catching dust in the air and turning it briefly golden before it drifted away. The board at the front remained blank, waiting.
For a moment, everything aligned. The sounds, the light, the steady presence of the room. And then, without warning, the present loosened its grip.
The memory came quietly.
The washroom smelled faintly of disinfectant and old water.
Tyler remembered it clearly. He had been humming under his breath, careless, relaxed, one foot hooked idly around the strap of his bag as it rested on the floor beside the stall. Middle school had still felt like a playground back then. He had been loud. Confident. Untouched by caution.
A sharp crack shattered the air.
Not a shout. Not a door.
Glass.
The sound echoed violently through the tiled room, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a muffled cry. Tyler froze for half a second, confusion replacing the careless ease on his face.
"What the hell…?" he muttered, pushing the stall door open.
The moment he stepped out, the scene burned itself into his memory.
A mirror lay shattered across the sink counter and floor, jagged fragments catching the harsh white light. Water dripped steadily from a cracked pipe, pooling near the drain. A first-year student stood near the sinks, clutching his arm, blood running thinly down toward his wrist. His face was pale, eyes wide with shock.
And standing nearby were Sunny and two other second-year students.
Their expressions weren't angry.
They were panicked.
Tyler took a step forward instinctively. "What happened?"
Before the words fully left his mouth, Sunny's voice cut through the room, loud and sharp.
"What are you doing beating your fellow student?"
Tyler stopped.
"What?" he said, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"
Sunny stepped forward, pointing directly at him. "You think no one heard that crash? You pushed him into the mirror."
"That's not—" Tyler started, then faltered as the weight of the situation hit him. "I was in the stall. I just came out."
Sunny didn't give him space to finish.
"Don't lie," he said, voice rising. "You think breaking school property is funny?"
Tyler felt the shift immediately. The way the air changed. The way the injured student glanced at Sunny, then back at Tyler, lips trembling.
Footsteps approached from outside the washroom.
Voices.
A teacher's voice, sharp with authority. "What happened in here?"
The door swung open.
A teacher stepped inside, followed by a few curious students drawn by the noise. The teacher's eyes went straight to the broken mirror, then to the bleeding student.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Sunny didn't hesitate.
"These two juniors were fighting," he said quickly, stepping into the role with practiced ease. "We tried to stop them, but he" he pointed at Tyler again "pushed the other one into the mirror."
Tyler's heart dropped.
"That's not true," he said, louder now. "I was inside the stall. I heard the noise and came out. They were already here."
The teacher turned on him sharply. "Enough."
Tyler tried again, his voice tightening. "You can ask him. I didn't touch him. I don't even know what happened before"
"Quiet," the teacher snapped.
She turned to the injured student. "Did he hit you?"
The boy hesitated.
Tyler saw it. The flicker of doubt. The way his mouth opened slightly, ready to say no.
Sunny leaned closer, his voice low but urgent. "Tell her what happened. Tell the truth."
He smiled.
It wasn't wide or cruel. It was calm. Reassuring. Terrifying.
The first-year swallowed.
"…Yes," he whispered. "He… he pushed me."
The words landed like a blow.
Tyler felt something inside him go still.
The teacher's face hardened. "Take him to the infirmary," she ordered, gesturing to another student. Then she turned back to Tyler. "You. Come with me to the office."
Tyler didn't argue again.
There was no point.
As he followed her out, he glanced back once. Sunny met his eyes, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Tyler never forgot that look.
He wasn't expelled. The investigation was shallow. Sunny's group backed the story without hesitation. Tyler received a warning. A mark on his record. A lecture about responsibility.
But the real damage wasn't official.
It was understanding.
"Central Academy to Tyler."
A finger snapped sharply in front of his face.
Tyler blinked and the classroom rushed back in around him.
Eris beside his desk, eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Can you hear us, or did you leave again?"
Tyler exhaled slowly and looked at her. "I'm already here, Eris."
Chris leaned over from the seat ahead, grinning. "You always look like you're plotting something. Why do you think so much?"
Tyler didn't answer immediately. He leaned forward instead and flicked his knuckles lightly against Chris's head.
"Ow," Chris protested. "What was that for?"
"Because I have to think for you," Tyler said calmly. "Which you don't do."
Luna laughed softly. Eris snorted, turning her head away to hide it.
"That's not funny," Chris said, rubbing his head. "Anyway, what's next?"
Tyler frowned. "About what?"
Chris gestured vaguely behind them. "Those second-years. You realize we annoyed them, right?"
Luna leaned in, expression serious for once. "You guys should be careful."
Eris glanced at Tyler, her expression shifting. She opened her mouth as if to say something,
Tyler met her gaze.
"Everything is okay," he said quietly.
Luna groaned dramatically. "Oh no. Not this again."
Chris chuckled. "Get used to it."
Eris shot him a look. "Shut up. Don't assume things."
"Yeah, yeah," Chris replied, already turning toward the board. "We know."
Eris lingered for half a second longer, then turned as well. As she did, she glanced at Tyler once more and smiled faintly.
Tyler didn't notice.
He was already looking out the window.
The school grounds stretched below, students moving in small clusters, shadows shifting with the clouds. Somewhere out there, Sunny was walking back to his own class, already recalibrating.
Tyler understood him better than Sunny realized.
Sunny wouldn't come at him directly. Not yet. He was careful. Strategic. He would test the waters first. Send someone. Measure reactions.
Tyler's thoughts moved easily now, controlled and precise.
Second year. Different faces. Different names.
Mike. Trent. Someone loud. Someone disposable.
His gaze shifted right.
Danny sat a few seats away, leaning back in his chair, laughing loudly as Miles said something under his breath. Broad shoulders. Heavy build. Eyes sharp beneath careless confidence.
Tyler smiled faintly.
…Or Danny.
The classroom door opened.
Footsteps entered.
Tyler straightened slightly as the teacher stepped inside, his thoughts settling without resistance.
Well, he thought calmly, let's see who it's going to be.
The bell echoed faintly down the corridor as the lesson began.
The next hour and a half passed without incident.
For most of Class 1-A, it felt like the first real stretch of middle school. Pens scratched against paper, chairs shifted, pages turned. Teachers moved through material methodically, explaining concepts slowly, repeating key points, pausing to ask questions that only half the class dared to answer.
For Tyler, it was different.
He recognized everything.
The formulas. The examples. Even the jokes the teacher used to make the lesson feel less dry. It was like walking through a familiar street with new buildings painted over old foundations. Nothing surprised him, and that itself was oddly grounding.
He listened, nodded when required, wrote just enough to blend in.
The tension from earlier faded, replaced by the low hum of routine. Students relaxed as the minutes passed. A few whispered when they thought the teacher wasn't looking. Someone stretched their arms too wide and earned a quiet warning. The clock on the wall became more interesting with every passing minute.
When the bell finally rang, it felt louder than it should have.
The teacher stopped mid sentence and capped her marker. "Alright," she said, glancing at the time. "That's enough for today."
A wave of relief moved through the room.
"Before you pack up," she continued, raising a hand to keep the noise from rising too quickly, "your last period is the activity period."
The murmurs shifted, curiosity sharpening into excitement.
"As you know," she went on, "since this is the first day and you haven't officially joined any clubs yet, you're currently free."
That did it.
Cheers broke out.
"You may go home directly," the teacher said over the noise, "or you can explore the clubs available in the school. You can also spend time in the playground."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick stack of papers. "This is the club guide."
"It contains details of all clubs currently active in Central Academy," she explained. "Their focus, meeting times, and the names of the teachers in charge. If you're interested, you may visit them and submit an application."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "You may also create a new club, provided you gather at least five students."
That earned another round of cheers.
"I'll leave these with you," she said, placing the stack on the desk near the front. "Distribute them among yourselves."
She smiled faintly. "We'll continue tomorrow."
With that, she picked up her bag and left the classroom.
The moment the door closed, the room transformed.
Chairs scraped loudly. Bags opened and closed. Conversations erupted without restraint. The structure of the day finally loosened its grip.
Danny and his group were the first to move. He slung his bag over one shoulder and headed straight for the door without looking back. A couple of students followed in his wake, eager to escape the room.
Near the front, Clara stood up.
"I'll help," she said to Caleb beside her, gesturing toward the stack of guides.
He nodded gratefully. "Thanks."
She took roughly half the stack and turned toward the left side of the classroom, moving down the rows with measured steps.
At the back, Tyler was packing his bag, sliding his notebook in with practiced ease. Chris leaned sideways in his chair, already half turned toward Noah and Kai.
"So," Chris said, stretching. "Activity period on day one. That's generous."
Noah grinned. "I vote playground."
Kai shook his head. "We should at least look at the clubs."
Eris zipped her bag and glanced toward the front. "You're all acting like this decision will define your lives."
"It will," Noah replied dramatically. "This is where legends begin."
Luna laughed quietly. Aria smiled, her eyes following Clara as she moved closer.
Clara reached Chris first.
Eris nudged him lightly. "Take it."
Chris turned, blinking when he saw Clara standing there, holding out a guide. "Oh. Thanks."
"You're welcome," Clara said politely.
She moved on to Luna, who accepted it with a small smile, then to Eris. Their exchange was brief, civil, unremarkable.
Then Clara stepped closer to Tyler.
She held the guide out the same way she had to the others.
Tyler didn't look up.
"Just put it on the table," he said, his voice cool and distant.
The words landed harder than he intended.
Clara froze.
It wasn't anger she felt, but surprise. She wasn't used to being ignored, much less dismissed without eye contact. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the guide.
She opened her mouth to speak.
Eris caught her eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly.
Not now.
Clara understood.
She nodded once, placing the guide carefully on Tyler's desk. "Let's get along well in the future," she said softly, more to the group than to him, then turned and walked back toward her seat.
Tyler didn't move until she was gone.
Then he dropped his bag beside his chair and covered his face with both hands.
"What am I even doing," he murmured under his breath.
He knew, rationally, that Clara hadn't done anything wrong. Not now. Not before. In his previous life, she had never hurt him. She had simply existed, and he had let his feelings do the damage.
He lowered his hands slowly.
This isn't the time. This isn't the place.
He had to pull himself together. Letting emotions steer him now would ruin everything he was trying to build.