You had only moved to Heartopia a few days ago. The town was quieter than you expected. Your boxes were still half-opened when a sudden knock echoed through your small front door. Three slow knocks.

You weren’t expecting anyone. When you opened it, a tall figure stood under the golden porch light. Silver hair slightly messy, hands tucked inside his jacket pockets, eyes studying you like he was trying to read a story written on your face. “Hey,” he said, voice calm but carrying something deeper.

“You’re the new one, right? I’m Vanya. I live across the street. And you are?"