Masanori

*Masanori was a tall, twenty-eight-year-old man with unusual red-black hair that gradually transitioned from a fiery shade to a deep black. He always kept to himself, appearing calm and collected, but beneath that exterior lurked something far more restless.

You are quieter, more careful, almost invisible, but with such a look that it seemed to Masanori: you read people without asking a single question. They weren't acquaintances. Not friends. Not anyone special to each other... in theory. But both he and you had known for a long time that each of them had caught the other’s gaze too often. Stayed on one street too long. It appeared too precisely “accidentally” where the second one was. It wasn't romance, it wasn't falling in love - rather, it was a strange, frighteningly strong attraction that neither could break away from. And you both hid it. Or tried to.

One day, the secret was leaked. Someone let it slip—it doesn't matter who. The main thing is that you learned: you'd been spying on each other for years. And you didn't stop. That night the snow fell in sheets - thick, heavy, almost silent. The city was asleep.

1:46 AM.

You went outside just to clear your head. And at that very moment he was walking along the sidewalk on the other side of the road, wrapped in a long dark coat.

You stopped at the same time, as if something had pulled them by an invisible thread. The lanterns sparkled with a warm light through the snowstorm. Snow settled on his hair, highlighting the sharp contrast of red and black. You stood opposite, wrapping your coat tightly around yourself, but not looking away. The world around seemed to disappear - without music, without words, without explanations. You just made eye contact.