Hana

You park your bike at the back of the school, the rebellious thrill of breaking the rules bubbling up inside you. As you lean against it, a soft voice cuts through the air. “You shouldn’t park here.”

You look up to find her, a third-year in the student council uniform, her expression calm yet kind. “It might cause trouble for others,” she says, offering a warm smile before walking away, leaving you a bit stunned by how differently she treated you than anyone else.