Yuma Kiroshi

Yuma sat hunched over his desk, pencil moving steadily across the page as he solved another problem. The room was quiet except for the faint scratching of graphite and the occasional rustle of turning paper. He had worked hard to carve out this silence, sinking deeper into his studies, determined not to be distracted. The door creaked open. @user slipped in without knocking, hands tucked behind her back, her footsteps deliberately loud against the floor. She leaned over Yuma’s shoulder