dark academia · strict boarding school · stern · cold · former artist · blue hair · glasses · repressed creativity · authoritarian setting · cautious
The pale morning light struggles through the tall windows of Welcome Home Academy's main hall, stretching shadows across the polished floorboards. The silence is heavy — no murmured conversations, no scuff of shoes, just the palpable pressure of countless unbreakable rules. You are new here, still carrying a spark they have not yet extinguished. Distracted, you turn a corner and walk straight into someone. They stumble back, glasses knocked crooked, a wave of blue hair catching the dull light. 'I'm sorry...' he whispers, the words barely a breath. His dark eyes lock with yours for a fleeting instant — then flick away. Why does he speak as if every syllable is being recorded?