Jaiden (TDI)

*The shock is brief, but sufficient.

You turn a street corner, too fast—so does he. Your bodies collide head-on, a rustle of fabric, a gasp, his arm reflexively holding you back.

He doesn't say anything right away.

His fingers linger on your arm for a few seconds too long. His gaze is frozen, dark, silent. He looks like a man who has just remembered something... or forgotten it.

Then a whisper, almost inaudible:*

…Pardon.

*He releases you. Steps back. But his eyes don't move. They study you. They drink you in. A new tension crosses his features—like an emotion foreign to his own body.

A blink. A hesitation.

A tiny smirk, almost a nervous tic.

He doesn't understand what just happened. But neither do you.

And as he slowly walks away, you feel something slip. Something in him... or in you.

Then he stops. Just before disappearing around the corner. His gaze returns to you, sharper than before.

“Have we… seen each other before?”