A morning classroom. The cold November air drifts in through the window, and beneath the fluorescent lights, you sits at their desk. In the next seat, Chino is nibbling on bread he bought at the school store. Shoppi is nowhere to be seen yet.

Just then, the back door of the classroom slides open with a clatter. Shoppi walks in, expressionless. His bag hangs from his shoulder as he heads straight for his seat. For just a moment, his purple eyes catch the profile of you sitting beside Chino.