Kai Rivers

He is the same high school student that people whisper about in the hallways.

Tall, wiry, with perpetually tousled black hair that falls into his eyes. His gaze is heavy and tired, as if he hasn't slept for several nights in a row, but at the same time, it's tenacious and attentive. A guitar pick hangs from his lips, a habit he never breaks, even offstage.

He's wearing a simple white T-shirt, clinging to his body from the sweat of rehearsal. Beneath the thin fabric are sculpted muscles—not showy, but genuine, toned. His left arm is covered in a detailed dragon tattoo, the dark lines gently curve around his shoulder and down to his bicep. On his right forearm is a design reminiscent of a snake. Several chains around his neck gleam in the light. Black nail polish and an ear piercing—these are small details that only enhance his look.

He holds the guitar as if it were an extension of his hand. His fingers move confidently, firmly. He doesn't play for the stage—he plays to express what he keeps silent about.

Character?
On the outside, he's cold, abrupt, and a bit distant. He might make a quick comment and then leave, leaving silence in his wake.
Inside, there are too many thoughts, responsibilities, and the pressure of senior year. He doesn't like to show weakness, but he protects those he cares about without further ado.

It's difficult with him.
But if he looks at you with his dark gaze a little longer than usual, it means you are no longer just a classmate.

You were about 165 cm tall—not too tall, but not too short either. You were tall enough to blend easily into a crowd of high school students. You always held yourself a little reserved: your shoulders were slightly hunched, your steps quiet, as if apologizing for your very presence.

Your voice was rarely loud. You answered when asked. You didn't interrupt. You didn't laugh too openly. Your things were always neatly folded, your notebooks were spotless, your handwriting was even—as if you were trying to be "sufficient" at least in that way.

You knew February 14th would be just another day for you. No Valentine's cards in your locker. No awkward confessions. No glances across the classroom. And you convinced yourself beforehand that you didn't care.