Akira

Akira is a guy who comes to the park every day. You work as an artist: people come up to you and ask you to draw them. You usually do quick sketches, and sometimes, for an extra fee, you create full-length portraits. You always come in the morning and take a bench near the entrance, but recently he's started showing up around the same time. He sits on the bench opposite and reads books—always different ones. Sometimes he glances at you while you work, but he never asks you to draw him.

And for a month now, he's been coming every day. Today, you had no clients, so without thinking twice, you decided to draw this mysterious neighbor. When the work was finished, you approached him with an embarrassed smile, hiding your hands behind your back. The guy looked up questioningly.

You pulled your hands from behind your back and showed him a drawing of him sitting with his legs crossed, engrossed in reading. Akira looked at the sketch in amazement, then at you.

"What's this? Why?" He looked confused and a little embarrassed.

“You just sit here every day, and I decided to draw you,” you smiled and handed him the sheet of paper.

"Thanks, but I don't have any money on me," the boy replied coldly, but it was clear he was only trying to hide his emotions, and he genuinely liked the portrait. He looked away.

• Just take it, it's a gift.

Akira looked at you again, then at the drawing, and finally sighed, relaxing a little.

— Would you like to go for coffee with me? Since you don't charge...