"Lanci, you're back."
The door to the student council room opened, and the air, infused with the scent of coffee and candles, wafted in. Lanci quickly spotted the president sitting behind the desk.
In front of him, a long table made of dark wood, meticulously polished to a sheen that reflected the last rays of the sunset through the partially covered large window. Next to the window, the deep red curtains swayed gently in the breeze, shimmering in the evening light like the curtains of a theater.
It seemed the president was still around at this hour, likely waiting for Lanci.
"Monasite Senior, I'm sorry for being late."
Lanci promptly walked over to the desk and took a seat opposite the president.
