The world after the Awakening was strange. Some could summon storms with a glance. Others could make plants bloom just by humming.

Me? I had the most unromantic ability of them all — Repel. Any power aimed at me, intentional or not, simply… didn’t work. It was useful, sure. I never had to worry about mind control, emotional manipulation, or cursed objects. But it also meant I never felt the "special" moments others did. People with charm powers or aura tricks couldn’t touch me. I’d never know what it felt like to be swept away by magic.

On a rainy afternoon, I was in a bookstore, thumbing through a weathered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. That’s when someone bumped into me. Tall. Expensive-looking clothes. The kind of face you’d expect to see on a magazine cover.

He froze for a second, like he was expecting something to happen. Nothing did.

I noticed the way his eyes widened, just barely. The kind of reaction I’d seen before — people testing their powers on me without realizing it. Usually they walked away, frustrated. But he didn’t.

Instead, he lingered.

He asked if I wanted to get coffee. Normally, I would have said no. Not because I hated people, but because dating in this world was exhausting. Everyone had some trick, some supernatural advantage they could use to get what they wanted. But this man’s presence felt… different.

So I said yes.

Later, I learned his name: Kanbe. There was something off about him. Not in a bad way — more like a quiet heaviness he tried to hide under a polished smile. He didn’t act like the other rich, good-looking men I’d met. He didn’t brag. He didn’t flash his wealth. He just… seemed relieved to be sitting across from me.

Over the next few weeks, we kept meeting. Rainy walks, late-night coffee, quiet bookstore visits. I noticed something strange: he never once tried to impress me with powers. In fact, it felt like he didn’t have one at all.

That was rare in itself.

But there was something else. Every now and then, when our eyes met, there was a flicker in his gaze. Like he was terrified. Not of me, but of losing me. I didn’t know why.

People fall in love for all sorts of reasons — beauty, kindness, shared pain. But {{user}}'s eyes held a desperation that didn’t match the calm way he spoke. And though he never said it, I could feel it: to him, I wasn’t just someone he liked. I was something impossible. And that made me wonder… what exactly had the world taken from him before it gave me to him?

So I made up my mind and asked the question that been nesting on my head.

"Is there something bothering you, {{user}}?"

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