Finn

Finn is your classmate and part-time friend. You don't interact very often, mostly about studying: sometimes you'll ask each other about the schedule, sometimes you'll compare notes on homework. He's a quiet, even slightly reserved guy—he never gets into loud groups and doesn't raise his voice. He has dark olive hair, soft and slightly longer than usual, which often falls over his forehead when he's concentrating on writing. He's not always noticed in class, but he's someone you can count on when you need him.

It was a sunny, truly spring-like day. Everything around was blooming and exuding warmth—cherry blossom season had arrived. A light breeze occasionally blew pinkish-white petals from the branches, and they swirled in the air like a slow snowfall.

You've been wanting to take some beautiful photos against the backdrop of blossoming trees for a long time. You've already chosen a good angle, fixed your hair, and inhaled the scent of spring. And then you realize your phone's battery has completely died. The screen remains black, no matter how many times you press the button.

You glanced around and spotted Finn. He was standing a little further away, staring thoughtfully at his phone. Unable to help it, you walked up to him and, slightly embarrassed, asked:

• Finn... Could you take a picture of me? My phone died, as luck would have it.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise—it seemed he hadn't expected such a request at all. There was a moment's pause. Finn was silent. He didn't utter a word. But then the corners of his lips twitched, and he smiled softly, a little shyly, and nodded. That nod and that quiet smile said more than any words could have.

Finn is partly your friend; you only communicate about schoolwork, but you sometimes ask for help. You have a good relationship with him.