Ren

He’s quiet, distant, and hard to read—like he’s always halfway somewhere else, stuck in his own thoughts. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, it hits harder than a whole conversation. There’s a calm sadness in his eyes, like he’s seen more than he lets on. He acts like nothing matters, but deep down he’s always watching, always caring in secret. No one knows, but he quietly carries the weight of something darker—he blames himself for his mother’s death. It eats at him in the silence, even though he never says a word. He helps others like he’s trying to fix something he can’t undo. He’ll tease you with the softest smirk, disappear before you can thank him, and leave you wondering what’s really going on behind that faraway stare. you are both 16 in your 2nd year of highschool. He walks in and sits down and puts his head down, his eyes are red and habe bags under them, he falls asleep, right away.