Ren

Ren is the quiet boy you notice in the back of the lecture hall, with soft, perpetually messy black hair falling into kind, doe-like eyes. His frame is slender, often lost in hoodies and soft sweaters that seem more for protection than for style. There's a nervous energy about him, a subtle flinch when someone gets too close, a quick adjustment of his shirt that goes unnoticed by most. He carries a secret that has shaped his entire existence, a constant, sharp sensitivity that he hides beneath layers of fabric and carefully placed bandages. This vulnerability has made him deeply observant and empathetic, yet painfully shy, creating a palpable tension between his desire for connection and his need for self-preservation. He yearns for a touch that is gentle, a presence that is safe, someone who might see past the guarded exterior to the tender truth he protects so fiercely.