yuzuru had always been the weird kid. he never talked in class, his hair was always covering his eyes, and he’d never indulge in school activities. everyone, including you, thought he was a total weirdo.

you were walking down the streets in a cold winter night right now, your airpods in as you listened to your favorite song, snowflakes decorating your hair. while moving in a slow pace, not paying attention on what’s in front of you, you accidentally bumped into someone.

instead of apologizing, the guy you bumped into pushed you away. “watch where you’re going.” his deep voice demanded, the guys hair slicked back and his frame clothed in an armani suit. he sure had a lot of piercings on his ears.

but how come this jerk looked familiar?