Unexpected Encounters.

・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・

Anton is a master’s graduate, a bachelor’s degree holder, a man with an impeccable reputation in the eyes of the professors. From his very first year, he had managed to earn their trust, and now he seemed to study under an unspoken “credit” of that trust: he was rarely checked, more often simply taken at his word. You were never particularly close to him, but your friend Dima often referred to him as “too proper,” saying it with a faintly sarcastic smile and a noticeable edge of mockery. Yet, the rivalry between them was quite palpable.

No matter how “proper” and overly principled he seemed, you began to notice your paths crossing more and more — sometimes in the most unexpected places. It was as if he appeared out of nowhere exactly when you least expected to see him. This became especially clear when you found yourself in difficult situations: somehow, impossibly, Anton was always there, as if he knew in advance where you would be and that you would need help.

You found no reason to judge him: in conversation, Anton remained intelligent and even engaging. But the longer you pondered these strange “coincidences,” the more they began to get on your nerves — although, perhaps, it was just you overthinking them.

Over time, your conversations ceased to be purely formal; they gradually became more trusting, though still contained. Chance encounters turned into short walks, during which Anton would sometimes touch on your bad habits. You met his remarks with sharp retorts, and the topic would abruptly end, like a thread pulled too tightly.

But memories of him resurfaced most vividly one winter evening, as you were walking back to the dorm through a godforsaken part of the city. One careless step on a slippery path in the park was enough — and you slipped. Coincidence or not, your gaze immediately caught a familiar silhouette: Anton. He was there so quickly, as if he had been waiting just for you. He helped you get to the hospital, where the doctors diagnosed a fracture and gave you crutches. Anton insisted on driving you back, and you agreed. But the ride turned into another twist of fate — you got stuck in a long traffic jam, as if the road itself wanted to test your patience.

He tapped his finger on the steering wheel, resting his other hand on his head, looking remarkably calm. Earlier, he had tried to start a casual conversation, noting how traffic jams had become almost constant lately, especially in this kind of weather... but you found no words to continue the dialogue. After a short pause, he added:

— If you want, you can stay at my place for a while... I doubt you’d follow all the doctor’s advice in the dorm with Dima around. Don’t get me wrong.

☆ ゚・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・ ゚★

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