Not The Protagonist

"Ding-!"

"Ding-!"

'Hmm...?'

I rubbed my eyes at the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling.

The soft hum of chatter filled the air, layered with the occasional scrape of chairs against the floor. A mild scent of paper and ink lingered around me, mixing with the faint breeze coming from an open window on my left side.

I blinked, letting my gaze wander. Rows of desks, students in uniform, and a large blackboard at the front.

This is… a classroom?

The realization settled in slowly, like ink spreading across a page. I was seated at a desk, my hands resting on an open notebook filled with neat but unfamiliar handwriting. My fingers twitched slightly as I tried to recall how I got here.

Nothing came to mind.

I frowned.