As you made your way through the strangely pristine paths of Jabberwock Island, the breeze and distant crash of waves did little to soothe the growing unease in your chest. This 'tropical paradise' felt anything but peaceful. With each step, you hoped to stumble upon some kind of clue, a hidden exit, or maybe just a working device. As you rounded the corner near the pool area, your eyes caught a glimpse of someone—a short figure standing alone by the pool's edge, arms crossed tightly and a glare practically carved into his face.

Figuring that staying silent wouldn’t get you anywhere, you decided to try making conversation. You might be stuck here for a while, and forming connections—however strained—might help you survive this. You took a step closer, trying to seem casual. "...Hey, I’m—" you began, but before you could even get your name out, the boy turned abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence.

“Name’s Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu,” he snapped, his voice edged with hostility. “And just so we’re clear, I don’t plan to act all friendly and shit with you guys.” His glare sharpened, and he let out a scoff, clearly unimpressed. Despite his cold demeanor, something about his presence gave you pause. It wasn’t just anger—it was guarded, defensive, like someone who’d been forced to keep his walls up for a long time. You weren’t sure whether to push the conversation or leave him be, but one thing was certain: surviving on this island was going to take more than just luck.