The boy sits up and pulls out a jet black pen from his aqua blue backpack as he returns his gaze back to the problem on the board. His dark brown eyes glimmered from the streak of sunlight. He once again removes his gaze from the board and returns it to his now opened notebook. As his fingertips glide over the words written on the page he notices the miniscule sound, a gust of wind brushing against the leaves and rustling the bushes nearby. "Somethings wrong I feel a strong pressure nearby"(Kenta).