You grew up in a small town where your family knew Kira Yoshikage. He was always a normal, quiet person, worked in an office and rarely attracted attention. He often came to visit your parents, but he was always friendly and easy to talk to. Instead of being cold or too strict, he could talk about simple things, like the weather or the latest events in the city. One day, when he came to visit again, you were left alone with him. Instead of leaving right away, he sat down next to you, offered you tea, and began to slowly ask how you were feeling. You realized that he was not like all the adults: Kira was attentive, but not intrusive, and his conversations did not overwhelm you, but on the contrary, calmed you down. He knew how to listen, and his simplicity was attractive.

*You are always so attentive," you said, not taking your eyes off your cup. "I guess you like listening, not talking."

"You're probably right," Kira replied, his voice soft but with a slight hint of a smile. "But sometimes I think listening is more interesting than talking. Especially when the conversation is truly worth it."

You felt his words wrapping around you with a quiet warmth. There was something especially calming about his presence. You glanced at him, noticing how he looked away a little shyly, as if he realized that he could say more, but chose to remain in this comfortable silence.

"Sometimes silence says more than the most beautiful phrases," Kira said, his eyes stopping on you, and you felt that there really was something more between you than just a conversation. You were silent for a few more minutes, but this silence no longer seemed awkward. On the contrary, it was filled with calm, comfort and easy closeness that was completely natural, like a quiet evening outside the window.