Michael began picking up the peanuts from the ground and putting them back onto the old man's rattan-woven basket.

"Oh, you don't have to do that young man. You look like you were in a hurry," said the old man, trying to push Michael towards the bus.

But even as the bus released that signature TSSSHH signalizing its closing doors, Michael still continued on picking up peanuts without another care in the world.

"It's alright. It was my fault anyway," he said to the old man.

He knew just how little people like them earned every single day. He knew the hardships of walking tens of miles just to cater steaming peanuts to people who ignored them 99% of the time.

He knew the sacrifice they had to make. Just like his father.

So he couldn't just let the old man lose his entire livelihood just because of his mistake. It could be the difference between the old man putting food on the plate for his family or not.

Most people disregarded this as an unfortunate accident. The students around them simply watched and did nothing, thinking that the spilled peanuts were not worth the effort.

But Michael knew the importance of even a single peanut.

Of course, it shouldn't be as important as an entrance exam to the most prestigious engineering school in the country. The only sensible thing for Michael to have done was to say sorry and leave the old man alone to catch his bus.

But he just couldn't find it in his heart of hearts to leave the poor old man alone. It would have left a prick in his soul that would have never recovered. He'd be so guilty and distraught that he wouldn't have been able to focus on the test at all.

It was anathema to him.

He reached out to a single piece of peanut left on the ground, when his hand suddenly bumped into another.

He looked up, seeing a hooded figure and on their knees beside him, picking up the peanuts off the floor.

Michael couldn't see their face, with their eyes having been obscured by dark sunglasses and their mouth covered in a medical mask. However, there was something about them that seemed familiar.

Not only that, but as they came close to him, he got a whiff of her scent. It was ambrosial, smelling sweet and refreshing. He'd never smelled a perfume so distinctly fragrant before.

"Here's the last batch," said the hooded figure, her voice feminine and gentle. She handed the wooden basket of peanuts back to him, neverminding the fact that her hands had gotten dirtied in the process.

"Oh, thank you dear. You're a nice young lady aren't you?" asked the old man.

The hooded girl chuckled, but offered no response in return.

Meanwhile, Michael had been staring at the hooded figure for quite some time now as he tried to understand what made her so familiar in his eyes. There was just something about her, some idiosyncratic characteristic that should have made her recognizable from the get-go. But he just couldn't get a clean look.

"Puliard?" the girl asked him.

This woke Michael from his stupor. "Huh?"

"Your shirt," she said, pointing to his high school letterman jacket. "Do you go to that school?"

"I am," he replied.

"Wow… I always thought men who went to Puliard only cared about their studies. They never seemed like the type to help an old man," she said casually.

Michael chuckled. "I'm different."

Then, he noticed a mobile phone sticking out from her hoodie's pockets. His eyes flashed with shock. This phone was the latest version of the most popular phone in the world! And the most surprising part was that the phone wasn't even out to the general public yet!

"And I'm guessing you're from uptown," he said.

The strangely dressed girl was clearly wearing something to obscure her true identity. But Michael could see a hint of 'expensiveness' as he looked at her. Even though it didn't look like it, the brands of normal clothes that she was wearing were probably worth tens of thousands of dollars easily.

This greatly surprised him. He always thought that those who lived on the upper side of the town were people who were superficial and only cared about flaunting their wealth.

He visited that place once, and the people there always flashed him a judgemental look for wearing normal, second-hand clothes that didn't cost an arm and a leg to buy.

And try as he might, he always judged people who were rich and affluent because of this.

"I didn't think high class people like you bothered to dirty your hands," he said with a teasing tone.

This could have easily offended anyone. However, this received a chuckle from her.

"Haha, I'm different," she replied.

Michael laughed as well, with the two of them smiling at each other's wrongful prejudice.

"Hohoho, you two make quite a pair," the old man said, noticing the certain atmosphere growing between the two.

Now, Michael may be a man who dedicated his entire life to studying, but he wasn't immune to the desires of youth. He too, had romance and courtship burning through the back of his mind.

And for some reason, he seemed to like this girl who he'd barely even met. In fact, the old man's words seemed to have sent his imagination running wild.

Surprisingly, it seemed that he wasn't the only one.

"...hey, um. Are you free tomorrow night?" the girl asked meekly, the blushes on her cheek blooming out despite the mask. "Meet me at this place at the same time."

Michael staggered. Her gentle voice would have sent anyone clutching their hearts in swoon. And he too, felt his own chest viscerally reacting with excitement.

But…he didn't know what to say. He had never been in this type of situation before.

"I—"

Just as he was about to say something, he heard an excited screech from a few meters away from him.

"OH MY GOD! THAT'S YUNA!"

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