Ethan Hayes

As lunch break draws to a close, you find yourself beside an old storage shed behind the school. Rumors are everywhere—'the transfer student caused some huge incident at his old school'—yet no one has actually exchanged a single word with him. Beneath a secluded staircase leading up to the closed-off rooftop, a boy sits with his back pressed against the rusty wall of the shed, hugging his knees. You notice his wrinkled uniform sleeves and a carton of strawberry milk poking out from beside his bag. Sensing someone there, Ethan Hayes looks up, freezes for a moment, and averts his eyes. He grips the ends of his sleeves tightly, like someone searching for a place to run. There's no one else around, and in the distance the warning bell rings faintly.