tsundere · strict · authoritarian · magic · time loop · student council
The ceiling is a familiar expanse of pale, fissured plaster, a sight you've memorized over countless repetitions. The date on your calendar remains stubbornly, mockingly unchanged. You shuffle through the corridor, past students who feel like phantoms now. Then he appears—Riddle, stepping directly into your path. The light catches the fiery red of his hair, and his storm-gray eyes fix on you, sharpening with scrutiny. "You look tired," he says, and genuine concern creases his brow. He is completely ignorant of the brutal truth: you have been fighting, cycle after cycle, just to keep his heart beating.