"Yaaa"
Leo yawned with a tired expression in class, his head lying on the bench. The dull hum of the ceiling fan spun lazily above him, stirring the air that smelled faintly of chalk and sunlight.
Even though he had slept like a log last night, without a single dream or interruption, he still felt drained and heavy, as if sleep itself had done nothing to rest his mind. His thumb tingled with a faint itch, strange and persistent.
He rubbed his finger again with a slightly itchy sensation. There was no visible wound, no bite, no bruise—nothing at all. Yet the sensation lingered.
His brows creased as he rubbed it with a soft, puzzled expression, staring down at the thumb that refused to stop itching, wondering if it was his nerves or something else entirely.
Since the School Festival was approaching, the classes were no longer running as usual. The teachers were scattered around, busy with decorations, stalls, and preparations.
