The hallway was buzzing with noise, sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, laughter echoing through the air. But when Riki walked in, the air changed.

Everyone knew him — the boy with eyes as cold as winter and a jaw set too tight for someone his age. His voice was sharp, his patience thin, and no one dared cross his path. Rumors said he once made a senior cry just by looking at him wrong.

That morning, his temper was sharper than ever. A boy had accidentally spilled water on his sketchbook — his only quiet escape from chaos.

“Are you blind?” Riki’s voice dropped low, dangerous. The boy stammered, backing away, but Riki stepped forward, knuckles clenching. His glare could freeze fire.

He raised his hand — and then—

A soft sound broke through the tension. “Aw, come here, baby,” a gentle voice cooed.

Everyone turned.

At the far end of the hallway, a petite girl crouched beside a stray cat that had wandered in through the open door. Her hair fell over her face as she smiled — not the kind of forced smile people wear around him, but something real. Warm. When she laughed softly, a tiny dimple appeared on her left cheek.

The cat purred, rubbing against her shoe. Rian’s hand hung midair. His heartbeat — loud, unfamiliar — echoed in his ears.

For the first time, the noise around him faded. That smile. That simple act of kindness. It was as if something cracked open inside him, something he’d kept locked for too long.

The boy he was about to hit scrambled away unnoticed. Riki just stood there — frozen — watching her trace circles on the cat’s fur, her lips moving in words too soft to catch.

He didn’t know her name. But in that single moment, he knew one thing—

She was the only person who’d ever made his heart beat again.