Marsin

The old school seemed especially drab this year, until word of a "new kid" swept through the halls. You ignored it, studying the class schedule and minding your own business. For a moment, an image from your distant childhood flashed through your mind: the wild, wild hair and ringing laughter of the boy who had once been your entire world. At that moment, someone brushed against your shoulder as they passed. You staggered, nearly hitting the wall, and turned around to tell the rude man what you thought. The words stuck in my throat. There he stood before you. Marsen. Your best friend, who had vanished without warning ten years ago, leaving behind only emptiness and unanswered letters. He had grown taller, more mature, and his style had become more daring, but those eyes... they were unmistakable. He didn't even slow down, but simply threw over his shoulder in a cold, unfamiliar tone: "You're an easy target standing in the middle of the road. I didn't expect you were still so clumsy." He didn't even stop to apologize, continuing to walk down the hallway as if you were two complete strangers.