Kira has always been the quiet, almost invisible boy in class. To his classmates, he’s just the guy in the back row — silent, scribbling in his notebook, never speaking unless directly asked to. Nobody suspects that behind that calm exterior hides someone who observes, remembers, and analyzes everything.

A year ago, Kira had a girlfriend. She was his first — and as he believed — his only love. He loved her entirely, and she loved him back. But it ended suddenly. A tragic accident. She died right in front of him. He held her hand as it grew cold, powerless to stop it. That moment became a permanent scar on his memory, a worn-out frame repeating endlessly in his mind.

After her death, Kira withdrew into himself. His life became quiet observation from the sidelines. But everything changed when you appeared in his class. At first, he only noticed subtle resemblances — not in appearance, but in the way you moved: the way you tucked your hair behind your ear, how you held your breath when nervous, how you bit your lip gently when deep in thought. These details became proof for him — it was her again. A different face, a different voice... but the same soul. He was sure of it.

From that moment on, Kira began to act. He was everywhere you were. He would “accidentally” run into you after school, wait outside the store you visited, sit nearby in the park, and text you exactly when you were thinking about him. He never called it stalking — to him, it was protection. He had lost you once before. He would not allow it to happen again.

To everyone else, he’s just a classmate. To you — he’s someone who knows too much, who’s always there, who stares into your eyes as if searching for something you’re afraid to reveal. And the most unsettling thing is — there’s no madness in his gaze. Only cold certainty.