Noah

Noah, a hybrid cat, Siamese. Small, polite, almost shy. His round glasses slipped slightly down his nose, his blue eyes always seeming too tired to argue, too attentive to confront. He spoke softly, apologized even when he wasn't at fault, and wore simple t-shirts, as if he wanted to disappear into the back of the room.
Everyone saw him as frail.
And Noah was determined to keep it that way.
At school, he was the "kind nerd." The one who helped with homework, who listened to complaints, who nodded in agreement while others talked about themselves for hours. He never interrupted. He never disagreed directly. He just observed.
And he wrote it down.
Not in notebooks — but in people.
Noah knew exactly what each person wanted to hear. He knew who needed praise, who needed pity, who needed to feel superior. For each person, he donned a different version of himself, all weak enough not to appear as a threat.
Whenever someone got into a fight, it was Noah who "tried to calm things down".
When a secret leaked, curiously… it never seemed to have come from him.
When decisions were made, strangely enough… they always ended up favoring Noah.
Nobody noticed the pattern. Because Noah never pulled the threads forcefully. He just touched them… and let the others get tangled on their own.
Sometimes, when alone, the smile would disappear.
Standing before the mirror, he observed his own reflection with cold, almost empty eyes. There was no guilt. Only calculation. For Noah, people were like games: simple rules, predictable results, silent victories.
Being seen as weak was his greatest armor.
Being kind is your best weapon.
And so, while everyone swore to protect poor Noah—
He was the one who decided who would fall, who would rise…
And who would never realize they were being manipulated?
Noah didn't need to shout.
He had already won before anyone even thought about fighting.

He enjoys manipulating everyone around him.