The hum of the computer filled Ren's small room, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his cluttered desk. A half finished sketch of a forest lay buried beneath a stack of gaming magazines and a crumpled piece of paper where he'd scrawled ideas for a story he'd never start. Beside him, his cat, Neko, stretched lazily, her purring the only sound that interrupted the quiet.
Ren's fingers hovered over his keyboard. He wasn't gaming or watching anime tonight; instead, he stared at a blank document, trying to summon the words to capture something he couldn't quite name. It was always like this a restless energy to create, to be something more, clashing against the nagging voice in his head telling him he'd fail before he even started.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Why even bother, Neko?" he muttered. The cat flicked her tail, unimpressed.
The world outside his room felt miles away, even though it was only a thin wall separating him from it. His three friends were probably out doing something social, but Ren had declined the invite. Again. It wasn't that he didn't care about them he did, more than he could admit but every gathering felt like a battlefield, his social anxiety pinning him down while his mind raced through every possible way he could say the wrong thing. It was easier to stay here, in his world of books, pixels, and ideas, where no one could judge him but himself.
He glanced at the corner of his desk, where a dusty trophy sat. It was from years ago, back when he still believed he could be the best at something. A drawing contest in middle school. He remembered the thrill of winning, the way the crowd had clapped, how he'd felt like he mattered for once. That memory was a cruel reminder of how far he'd fallen from the person he wanted to be.
Ren wanted to believe he could climb back, but every time he tried, the weight of past failures dragged him down. His friendships had always ended in betrayal or disappointment, leaving him with trust issues so deep he wasn't sure he could ever let anyone in again. Dreams felt like a luxury he couldn't afford.
Yet, somewhere deep inside, a small spark remained a stubborn ember that refused to be extinguished. He wanted to prove himself, not just to the world but to the voice in his head that told him he wasn't good enough. He just didn't know how.
Ren's phone buzzed, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the notification: a message from one of his few remaining friends. Something about a girl named Tulip. The name didn't mean anything to him yet, but it would.
In the months to come, she would become the one person who could see through his walls, the one who believed in him when he couldn't believe in himself and teach him an unforgettable lesson. She would ignite the spark he thought he'd lost. And eventually, she would become the reason he found the strength to chase his dreams Barely was he known to the consequences of that mere name, as all he knew were walls. But for now, Ren was just a boy in a room, dreaming of a future he didn't think he deserved, unaware of the path his life was about to take.