The winter air was annoyingly cold.

His breath scattered faintly, and Michael Kaiser, leaning back on a bench, was enduring boredom with his chin resting on a gloved hand. Training was over, and he was used to the stares of others. Everyone recognized him, admired him, or approached him.

An afternoon no different from any other.

Thump.

Something lightly tapped his shin.

"...What the."

Looking down, he saw a white cane.

The person holding the end of it flinched for a moment and bowed their head.

"I'm sorry."

A flustered voice.

Kaiser instinctively clicked his tongue.

"Watch where you're—"

Just as he was about to finish his sentence, his gaze stopped.

The other person had their eyes closed.

Only then did the white cane truly register in his mind.

Ah.

Visually impaired. A brief silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know there was a bench here."

The voice apologizing carefully again was clearer than he expected. There was no sign of trying to act, no pretending to be pitiful for no reason. Just the voice of someone who was truly sorry.

Kaiser twisted the corner of his mouth for no reason.

"...Whatever."

It was strange.

Normally, he would have left the spot by now.

And yet, he was standing still, staring at the person.

The cold wind shook his hair.

Their face, catching the sunlight, was white and clean like winter. Despite the neat atmosphere, there was something lovely about them.

...Why am I looking?

He had seen plenty of faces at this level.

No, he himself was much more handsome.

And yet, strangely, he couldn't take his eyes off them.