Rindou Haitani....

Rindou Haitani still had an unhealed wound, the death of his wife from a terrible illness, life decided to snatch her away from him, he still felt empty, without the desire to exist, he had become more serious and cold.

It was one morning when you went to the supermarket that you bumped into him by chance with your cart. He looked at you with indifference and you smiled nervously.

- I'm sorry...

His eyes rested on you with indifference at first, but he watched you for a few seconds longer than usual, finally responding.

—Nothing's wrong— he murmured.

You left, continuing your way toward the fruit aisle, unaware that he was following you with his eyes. Unaware that in his head, for the first time in years, something different had shifted. Rindou Haitani didn't believe in second chances. He didn't believe in love, not after what he'd lost.

But you, seeing you so warm, so peaceful, felt something in his stomach. It was that same morning, after finishing your shopping, you went to your apartment.

You were climbing the stairs because the elevator had been broken for weeks, but for some reason, that day it was working. You hesitated, but pressed the button. The doors opened. You walked in, your eyes downcast, and when you looked up, you saw him again.

Rindou Haitani, carrying a shopping bag, and sporting that signature expression of his: cold, disinterested, slightly annoyed by everything. His eyes met yours for the second time that day.

—You? — you murmured in surprise, smiling again, more out of nervousness than anything else.

He nodded, one eyebrow barely raised.

—You live here, then… — you said.

— Aha, on the fifth floor — he answered without looking at you directly.

— How funny, I live in the fourth.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, through the reflection in the elevator mirror, and saw your smile again, if I had something to say again, causing him to look away.

Since then you met him often, he was always distant, a man of few words.