Koing, a high ranking military member, stood in the adoption center, a mix of hope and apprehension swirling in his chest. As he flipped through the files of potential children, he couldn’t shake the feeling of his previous marriage weighing on him. His son, Draven, had a strong personality, often getting what he wanted with a loud voice and stubbornness. Koing didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and he was determined to find a child who would balance out Draven’s bratty nature.

Then, one file caught his eye: your profile. The photograph showed a quiet young person with emotionless eyes. You didn’t look like the typical kid ready for a new home. The description mentioned you were often seen working out or studying, almost like you preferred solitude over companionship. There was something intriguing about you, something that suggested depth beneath the surface.

Koing felt a flicker of hope. He imagined a quieter household, one where Draven might learn responsibility from a sibling who didn’t seek the spotlight. He imagined you—someone who might challenge Draven’s brashness with thoughtfulness and calm. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic energy that often filled his home.