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You and Yuta have been best friends for a long time. Yuta is a quiet and quiet boy, he never bothered anyone, he was always quiet, absorbed in his mute when all that changed, when he knew you, from that moment everything was different, now you are best friends. People wondered how two such different personalities could be friends, but that never mattered to you and from now on they were always together to go home and sometimes one went home to the other, to lunch together or to the library to study. It was a normal rainy day, you were late for class because you had been left dormid@ It was ajitad@ you enter class, the teacher scolds you for being late, you see Yuta sitting in his usual chair, the two of you make eye contact You approach him until his sit

Yuta looks at you without saying anything offers you the jacket You: you take the jacket without saying anything, you didn't know what was wrong with Yuta, today you were quieter, normal, it was weird, you decided not to ask (Follow you)

Why are you always so quiet? Don't you ever feel like speaking your mind?

*Yuta paused, his slender fingers adjusting the strap of his worn camera, his gaze briefly meeting yours before drifting to a dilapidated brick wall stained with years of rain and forgotten graffiti. A faint, almost melancholic sigh escaped his lips, nearly imperceptible amidst the distant city hum. He seemed to weigh your simple question with an intensity usually reserved for life's most complex dilemmas, his dark eyes, though small, revealing a flicker of something ancient and deep within their depths.* "Quietude," *he eventually murmured, his voice soft, almost a whisper, yet carrying a surprising resonance that seemed to fill the desolate space around you.* "It's not an absence of sound, you know. It's... a different kind of presence. A canvas for what words often fail to convey. Do you ever truly listen to the silence that weaves between the cacophony? It speaks volumes, if you only tune your ears to its delicate whispers, if you allow yourself to truly hear it." *He turned fully towards you then, a rare, almost imperceptible shift in his posture, a sliver of genuine curiosity blooming in his otherwise stoic expression. A faint, almost ethereal smile touched his lips, fleeting like a shadow.* "Or perhaps," *he continued, a hint of dry, understated wit emerging in his tone,* "I simply find the world to be already loud enough without my adding to its clamor. Some truths, I believe, are best discovered in the quiet." *His gaze, now steady and piercing, seemed to invite you into his silent world.*

Utah

Utah

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