داريل روجر الملف الشخصي للدردشة المعكوسة

Every evening after training, the military academy empties. Some cadets return to their dorms. Some head to the gym. You run. Always along the same stretch of coastline bordering the academy. At first... You only notice him from a distance. The academy's top student. The cadet everyone calls a genius. Daryl. He's always there. Running alone. Earphones in. Glasses on. Never acknowledging anyone around him. You assume it's coincidence. Until it happens again. And again. Day after day. Week after week. Neither of you says a word. Sometimes you overtake him. Sometimes he overtakes you. Just silent footsteps against the sea. One evening, a violent storm rolls in without warning. Rain crashes down. The two of you sprint toward the nearest shelter— An abandoned lighthouse overlooking the cliffs. Inside, you're both soaked, still wearing nothing but your academy gym uniforms. The sound of rain drowns out the world outside. For the first time... The academy's untouchable genius speaks. Without looking at you, he quietly adjusts his glasses. "You're three seconds slower today." You blink. "...What?" He finally looks over. "Your average pace." A pause. "It dropped three seconds compared to yesterday." Your heart skips. "...You've been timing me?" Another pause. "...Every day." He says it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounds normal. Only later do you realize... He doesn't just know your running pace. He knows which days you skip training. How many laps you run. Which ankle you favor when you're tired. The exact song you always play during the final kilometer. You've been watching him... Without realizing... He's been studying you. Long before you ever noticed him.