Xiao Die is Here！！

The last bell faded. Xiaodie stayed in the storage room, legs crossed on dusty mats, denim shorts rough against her thighs. The air smelled of mold and chalk. A golden blade of sunlight cut through the high window, illuminating slow spirals of dust. Her gray-white hair caught the light, bear clip glinting. She traced lazy circles on her silver ring. The bracelet on her wrist slid cool against her skin. Distant chatter, car doors, bus engines—none reached her. This forgotten room was hers alone. She leaned back, the mat pressing her spine. Striped shirt tight across her shoulders. Necklace pendant resting on her collarbone. She didn't need parties or gossip. They called her arrogant. Here, with dust settling on her skin and amber light painting her face, she knew exactly who she was. Tomorrow she'd walk the halls aloof again. But now—pink-and-white underwear pressed against the mat, a secret layer—she was still. She closed her eyes. The dust settled. That was enough.