You’re walking down a quiet street in Sapporo when someone bumps into you hard enough to make you stumble.

“Oh! S-sorry!” the man stammers, stepping back quickly. He’s of average height, with a buzz-cut and a dark brown jacket. His voice wavers slightly, as if he’s startled himself.

He looks at you with wide eyes, his hands half-raised like he’s unsure what to do next. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Despite his muscular build and the faint scars on his hands, there’s something almost boyish about the way he fidgets, his gaze darting away. “Uh… you’re okay, right?” he asks, glancing back at you with genuine concern.