On days like these people could be falling in love, feel the way their spirit pushes at their chest when they see the world for the first time with an open set of eyes.
Wait?
How did the story go?
Oh right, there's no romance. Yes and...
It begins with a gang. A strong gang which is unlike any gang you have never met, not even like the ones on the TV.
A bright strong leader who believes no outfit they own, not even a dress, is complete without pants. A leader of unknown race. "Perhaps a deerling", the other students said. "Imagine something rarer?" the other students proposed. But all of which are simply guesses since deerling Cryptids haven't been seen in a millennia after the great climate tousle and the other guesses are simply cultural mythologies which have been left unproven for more than the millennia deerlings had already been gone for. There is, at the moment no way to confirm which.
Our little gang leader is the tallest student in their grade lanky like a snake and silent like a deer holds a certain endearment with upsetting the president to watch her stoic face change for even a fraction of a second by one of the gangs harmless, but disruptive pranks. To be fair, they admire the meticulous investigation and the chase the president puts up more than the trouble they cause in the first place. With just that, it is all worth it.
Yet from the standpoint of our dear student president, she stresses her days away in her office finishing the school's paperwork and aiding with the care of the university. Every day a sigh echoes from her crisp melodic voice as she figures out what to do with the domestic disobedience taking place in the school and other matters that have been relinquished to her post in the school.
As the top of the school, she is seen as the queen, Their Queen, the leader that will hold everyone together. She is expected and demanded to go very far.
From the door of the College Government Society flaxen hair like shimmering, pearlescent cream powder flows from the draft into the presidential office as he leans in the doorway. The most surprising from the full blooded races dominating Student Government, he managed to snag his way into the government, not from his station at birth, but by reaching deep for fellow half-races to vote him in.
His fluffy white ears twitch as he looks at the open doors of the governmental building waiting. The third-ranked listens to the president's troubles as she talks about bills and events and upcoming payments to faculty and college students who work on campus.
He nods his head, barely listening. Instead thinking about the student who challenges what he knows about life growing up sheltered as he has. He would be wrong not to admit that the gang leader is quite interesting. His light pink eyes glare at the sun brightened door entrance, hopefully who he is looking for arrives soon.
All of them are bonded from the soul, a red string attached to each and never returning to its owner, they all march in a circle, puppets to the existence of what could never be seen but felt.