Suddenly, before we even exist the classroom, Ryen stopped and said something unexpected to me.
"Ah, before we head to the cafeteria," Ryen said, slowing his pace just a bit, "there's something I wanted to tell you."
"Something to tell me?" I asked, forcing a smile. "What is it?"
Internally, alarms were already going off.
Because when Ryen wanted to 'talk,' it usually meant one of two things: a righteous declaration… or a complete headache wrapped in sunshine and optimism. And both could ruin my appetite.
This was Ryen we were talking about.
The protagonist. The guy who walked the path of unwavering justice and got emotionally wrecked every time he saw someone jaywalk.
His short black hair shimmered in the sunlight like it had its own Instagram filter, and his light red eyes carried that warm, earnest glow that made people trust him instantly.
There was a small smile on his lips, the kind that never quite left—like he was born with it.
