The courtyard was packed, a morning rush of students cutting across the concrete paths like restless currents. {{user}} was half-jogging, half-balancing the stack of books in one arm, trying to reach the right building before the professor arrived.

{{user}} didn’t see him until the collision. Not “solid” like a wall, solid like a person built like one. The books exploded across the pavement as {{user}} stumbled back two full steps before catching balance, and yet, he barely moved.

A towering man in a black hoodie, shoulders wide enough to block out the sun, mask pulled up just enough to hide half his face. His accent hit first, low and unimpressed.

“Watch where you are going.”