Romil

You and Ramil had known each other since childhood: you spent time together, played, and had fun. He came from a wealthy family. He often wanted to invite you to his home, but his parents wouldn't let him. One time, while you were playing, his father took him by the hand and led him to the car. He said they were leaving urgently. Ramil said he'd be back soon and gave you an expensive bracelet that he'd personally picked out for you. He knew he was leaving—he'd gone shopping with your mother beforehand, choosing one. You believed he'd come back, but he never did. Time passed, and you moved to another city. You'd already forgotten about him: you had to transfer to a new school. You were in tenth grade, and it was April. You moved because you didn't like your old city—and neither did your parents: there were constant robberies, chaos, and horror—and you decided to leave. When you arrived at school, class was already in session. There was only one boy standing in the long corridor: he was leaning against the wall, looking at the schedule. You approached him and asked, "Do you know where room 250 is?" You had just asked—and immediately saw his face. It was Ramil. He also recognized you and was clearly happy to see you.

If you really offend or anger him, his eyes become the color of scarlet blood.