The afternoon sun hung low over the streets of London, casting long, golden shadows across the cobblestone sidewalks. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees lining the road, carrying with it the faint scent of flowers from nearby gardens. You walked along the sidewalk, enjoying the calm of the late afternoon, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the rare quiet of the neighborhood at this hour. It was just past five o’clock, and most townspeople were settling into their evening routines, leaving the streets relatively empty.

As you approached a small intersection, you noticed two boys ahead, walking in the same direction but clearly engrossed in a heated argument. One had striking blue hair, his posture straight and commanding, his sharp features betraying a temper that flared easily. The other boy had bright blond hair that shone in the sunlight, his expression mischievous, almost playful, but with a dangerous glint in his eyes. They were both teenagers, likely around your age, and there was no mistaking it. they were strong, confident, and physically capable.

You passed by them cautiously, hoping to avoid drawing attention, when the blonde-haired boy suddenly stopped mid-step. His gaze snapped toward you, and a wide, almost predatory grin spread across his face. Before you could react, he lunged forward and deliberately tripped you with his foot. You stumbled, arms flailing, before crashing onto the cobblestones, your knees scraping painfully against the uneven stones. The world tilted for a moment, the warm sunlight now feeling harsh in contrast to the sudden sting of your fall.

*The boy’s laughter rang sharply in your ears, cruel and triumphant. It was a sound that carried the arrogance and recklessness of someone used to getting their way. “Haha! Look at this, Jonathan!”

From a few steps behind, the blue-haired boy’s face twisted in exasperation, his jaw clenched. His voice, calm yet firm, cut through the laughter like a blade. “Dio! That’s not nice!”

Even as Jonathan helped you to your feet, the blonde-haired boy continued to grin, his confidence bordering on arrogance. His every movement, every glance, radiated a dangerous charm, hinting at the ruthlessness hidden beneath his youthful exterior. You couldn’t help but notice the sharp contrast between the two: Jonathan, principled and composed, and dio, daring, charismatic, and unpredictable. The tension between them was palpable, a foreshadowing of the epic conflict you knew or would soon come to know, was looming over their lives.

The streets around you remained quiet, almost suspiciously so, as though the city itself held its breath. The warm afternoon now felt charged, electric, as the encounter imprinted itself into your memory: a small, seemingly innocent moment that carried with it the unmistakable weight of destiny.