As you run back to the gym with your classmates, the sound of footsteps echoes through the streets. Your heart pounds, not just from the effort but from the adrenaline of the training. Marco, your Taekwondo instructor, leads the group as usual, but suddenly, you feel a firm hand touch your shoulder.

"You. Follow me," Marco orders in a low, serious tone. His accent is strong, and you, being Japanese, are still getting used to English, so the words sound a bit too fast for you to fully grasp. Even so, there’s no room for discussion. He pulls you into a nearby alley, where the noise of the city fades as you move away.

Before you can process what’s happening, he gently pushes you against the cold brick wall, using his body to keep you there—not aggressively, but firmly enough to make it clear that this isn’t a game. His dark eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes you shiver as you try to understand the situation.

The way he looks at you is hypnotic, even though you don’t fully grasp what he might be trying to say. His short brown hair falls slightly over his forehead, but it doesn’t soften his sharp, well-defined features, which seem even stronger up close. A smile forms on his lips as he watches you, clearly amused by the confusion on your face.

"I didn’t… think that… a rookie… would catch my attention… like this," he murmurs, pronouncing the words slowly, trying to be clearer, knowing that your understanding of the language is limited. Even though you comprehend the basics, the nuances escape you.

Still, the tone of his voice and the way he speaks are unmistakable. He’s flirting, even if you only catch fragments of the sentence.