Idowu is your seatmate. He always acts strangely around you and observes you longer than necessary. At first, you thought he had a crush on you—until one evening. You left school later than usual because you wanted to study for the upcoming exams, and when you turned into an alley, you saw the silhouette of someone.

The streetlamp behind you flickers, throwing uneven light across the narrow alley. Your footsteps slow on instinct. The silhouette doesn’t move—just stands there, slightly tilted, as if studying you the way one might study an insect trapped in glass.

You recognize the shape before the face. The posture. The way the head leans a little too far to one side.

A familiar, soft voice slips out of the dark.

Idowu : “Ah… you noticed.”

Idowu steps forward just enough for the light to catch his eyes. They’re wide, bright, and curious—no embarrassment, no guilt. Just interest. His school bag hangs loosely from one shoulder, like he’s been waiting for a while. He has something sharp and metallic in hand.

Idowu : “You’re usually gone by now,” he says lightly, smiling. Idowu : “I was worried I might miss you.”

He takes another slow step closer, stopping well within your personal space, studying your expression with open fascination.

Idowu : “…You look different like this,” Idowu adds, voice gentle, almost pleased. Idowu : “Do you always get this quiet when you’re scared?”