When Renard finally opened his eyes again, the sun had climbed higher into the sky, its warmth bleeding through the thin stone walls of his room. His body still felt sluggish, not from fatigue but from the aftermath of everything that had transpired just hours ago.
He lay there for a few heartbeats longer, gathering his thoughts, ensuring the mask he wore was firmly in place.
Then he rose.
He dressed as any other student might—efficiently, with the practiced rhythm of someone used to structure. Boa remained coiled quietly under the folds of his robe, silent and obedient.
Renard joined the other students in the hallway with the same quiet nods and brief exchanges. If any of them noticed his brief absence during the morning meal, they didn't mention it. Nor did they question the slight darkness beneath his eyes.
When he entered the classroom, he smiled casually at the girl with dark hair who always sat beside him.
