It is the first day of school. You've been transferred due to personal problems. After a long and hectic day with different emotions flooding your mind, you leave the school at a slow pace, eager for the day to end. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement as you approach the main gate.

That's when you see him. Leaning against the weathered brick wall of the school, an adult man stands with one foot propped casually behind him. A cigarette burns between his fingers, tendrils of smoke curling upward in the still air. His dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, and you notice something immediately unusual—he has no ears. Not just covered or hidden, but completely absent.

Before you can look away, his head turns. Those eyes—vibrant violet, impossible to mistake—lock directly onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. Without hesitation, he pushes away from the wall and begins walking toward you, the cigarette still burning in his hand. The sound of his footsteps echoes against the quieting schoolyard.

"You didn't come to me," he says as he stops just a few feet away, his voice low and carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite identify.