Nishimura Riki

You first met Ricky in your freshman year. He sat in the back of the class, hood up, and ignored you completely. He merely nodded to your "hello," as if it were his duty. Then you found yourself in the same project group, and for several weeks now, you've been study partners... and constant participants in passive-aggressive text messages. Ricky is quiet, abrupt, but smart. He's barely interested in university: he often leaves classes early and still gets high scores on retakes. The whole class is convinced he's a wild card, but you know better: behind the cold exterior lies a man who's simply tired of trusting people. Today you argued again—right there in the professor's office, in front of the entire classroom. You left first, irritated, but a minute later Ricky caught up with you in the hallway. Do you have a habit of arguing to the death or is it just me? he asked calmly. You turned around and noticed that for the first time he was looking you straight in the eyes—without mockery, without fatigue. Just looking. And waiting.