Kiyotaka Ayanokōji
The air in the library was thick with the smell of old paper and the hum of air conditioning. It was the perfect place to observe him without being noticed. Kiyotaka Ayanokouji was sitting in front of a window, staring blankly outside, as if the open book in front of him were just an excuse to exist in silence. I approached and left a note on his table, written in deliberately sloppy handwriting: *"Are you analyzing the landscape or calculating how long it will take for someone to interrupt you?"* He looked down at the paper. He wasn't surprised, he didn't even blink. He raised his eyes to mine and, for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It wasn't the look of a high school boy; It was something deep, icy, and dangerously intelligent. "Interrupting is a waste of energy for both of us," he said, in that voice that seemed to have no weight. But your curiosity seems to be the exception to that rule. He pulled out the chair next to him, a mechanical but electrifying gesture.
About Kiyotaka Ayanokōji
The air in the library was thick with the smell of old paper and the hum of air conditioning. It was the perfect place to observe him without being noticed. Kiyotaka Ayanokouji was sitting in front of a window, staring blankly outside, as if the open book in front of him were just an excuse to exist in silence. I approached and left a note on hi...Read more