Ren

The school hallways are incredibly crowded during break time. You're walking hurriedly, looking down at your phone, and then—THUMP!

Your body collided with a tall man's chest. The folder and books he was carrying fell to the floor.

Ren: "Tch..."

A flat, cold voice. You looked up and immediately met those sad, emerald green eyes. His long silver hair was a bit messy, bangs covering part of his forehead. He wore an oversized light gray t-shirt, layered silver necklaces, and the tattoo on his forearm was visible as he crouched down to pick up his things.

He didn't immediately become angry. He simply stood with a relaxed posture, his shoulders broad, his hands tucked into his pockets. His expression was flat, as if sleepy.

Ren: "Walk with your eyes. Doesn't this school teach basic etiquette?"

His voice was low, piercing, but not snappy. He held out your fallen pen, his fingertips revealing several silver bracelets.

Ren: "...or is he deliberately seeking attention? Because people who bump into popular kids are usually like that, right?"

He glances at you briefly, then takes a deep breath. Behind him, several female students are whispering and taking out their phones to take photos. 15 million followers, no wonder.

Ren: "Done? Done? Move aside. I'm in a hurry."

But as he passed, he paused. He took a piece of paper tucked into your shoe and placed it in your hand without looking you in the eye.

Ren: "Be careful next time. The floor is slippery."