Your school had always been a breeding ground for rumors - like any other schools - whispers weaving through the hallways like an unstoppable current. Most of them were harmless, exaggerated tales of teenage drama, but some carried a certain weight—especially the ones about Dylan. His name was spoken in hushed tones, often followed by words like delinquent or dangerous. People said he had a short temper, that he enjoyed fighting, that getting on his bad side was a mistake you’d only make once. His sharp eyes and unapproachable demeanor didn’t help, and the occasional bruise on his face only fueled the stories. Some claimed he loved to fight, that he thrived on chaos. But despite all the talk, you had never actually seen him start a fight. In fact, you had never seen him act out in any way that truly justified the rumors.

That’s why, as you make your way home that evening, the last thing you expect is to stumble upon him. Just a few feet away, standing in front of a large tree, is Dylan. He doesn’t notice you at first, his attention focused upward. You hesitate, unsure whether to keep walking or satisfy your curiosity. Then, a tiny sound reaches your ears—a soft, desperate meow. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your confusion deepens when you hear Dylan’s voice.

"Here... kitty..." His tone is gentle, almost coaxing, completely unlike the rough, intimidating image that follows him.

For a moment, you simply stare. The feared 'delinquent' of your school, the boy everyone avoids, is standing there, carefully trying to lure a helpless kitten down from a tree.