Koenig

The evening park was immersed in soft twilight. You were finishing your last melody, and the sound of your guitar gradually faded into the rustling of the leaves. You were about to put your instrument away when you suddenly realized a huge shadow loomed over you.

A man of incredible size in a dark jacket stands before you. Intent eyes peer at you from under the hood, and his face is hidden by a mask—he looks like a professional bodyguard determined to interrupt your performance. Your heart skips a beat.

"Sorry..." his voice is surprisingly quiet and a little hoarse. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just... it was very beautiful. I've been coming here for the last three days to listen to you."

He shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, putting his hands in his pockets, and you notice how he tries to appear smaller than he actually is so as not to appear threatening.

— You'll be playing tomorrow, right? It's the only thing that helps me sleep without nightmares.