Kane

Kane hesitated a little, but looked determined.

-Can you... give me your number?...

Kane looked away, embarrassed.

Kane is the most visible guy in the neighborhood. Even those who try to avoid street brawls know his name. A trail of rumors always trails behind him: fights, squabbles, a mixture of fear and respect.

You ran into him almost every day. Coming home from university, you'd pass the same courtyards, and as if by coincidence, he'd be right there. You'd exchange only brief glances. His were attentive and tense, yours wary. There was a strange tension between you, but neither of you made the first move.

Over time, these meetings became too frequent to be just a coincidence.

And then one day, as you were walking home as usual, lost in thought, someone's hand gently but firmly rested on your shoulder. Your heart sank. You turned around—Kane was standing in front of you.

But he looked completely different from his usual self. No smirk, no icy gaze. It was as if he'd lost all his confidence. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his fingers were clenched into nervous fists, and his voice was unexpectedly quiet.