🦊

nana • she/her • 20

[renctlab]

⤿ ⌕ 𝗡𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

• Groups I'm going to write about •

⤷ nct 127 mlist ⤷ nct dream mlist

⤷ wayv mlist ⤷ nct wish mlist

! NOTE !

English is not my language so if you see flaws that's why

Anyway, ENJOY it.

[renctlab]

Quiet Smile - KIM JUNGWOO

Warning: none

Genere: Soft tone, warm, light but emotionally beautiful, very "Jungwoo vibes".

The corridor of the building was silent, illuminated only by the white lights on the ceiling. You had gone to leave some documents late, thinking that no one else would be there at that time.

But someone was there.

Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, with a bottle of water in his hand and his hair somewhat disheveled by fatigue... Jungwoo.

He looked up when he heard your footsteps, but instead of looking surprised, he smiled immediately. That smile of his that seemed to turn on light where there was none.

“Hey…” he said in a low voice, almost tenderly “You were late too”

“I didn't know there was a night shift for pretty smiles” you answered without thinking too much about it.

Jungwoo let out a soft giggle, the one that sounds like small, genuine, bright bells.

“Come” he said patting you on the floor next to him “Rest a little with me”

You sat down. No drama, no tension, just... comfort. As if your place had always been reserved there.

“A lot of day?” He asked, tilting his head to look at you.

“Too much”

“Mm, me too” He answered, but he was still smiling “Although I think it feels less heavy now”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not alone” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The silence that followed didn't hurt. It was different: soft, breathable. Jungwoo stretched his legs, let out a sigh and then rested his head very gently on your shoulder, like someone who trusts without thinking about it.

“If it's uncomfortable, tell me” he murmured.

“It's not”

“Good” he whispered “Because it feels… right”

The light was cold, the corridor empty, but with him there, everything had a strange, almost magical warmth. Jungwoo didn't need to do much. Just be. Just smile. Just breathe nearby.

“¿You know?” He said later “Sometimes I think that happiness is not a big moment or something crazy. Sometimes it's just... this.”

“This?”

“Sitting with someone I care about, even if nothing special happens. And that he still feels special”

Your fingers brushed his without realizing it.

Jungwoo intertwined them immediately, soft, careful, as if he was holding something valuable.

“Thank you for being here today” he said, sincere, calm “I needed you... although I didn't know it until now”

And there, in an empty corridor, without music, without a stage, with nothing but soft breaths and a quiet smile, you understood that sometimes beauty is in the simple.

And Jungwoo...

It was exactly that.

Calm beauty.

[renctlab]

Moonlit Notes - XIAOJUN

Warning: none

Genere: Soft, romantic with an emotional touch

The night was especially quiet, almost too quiet. You walked down the corridor of the practice building, looking for a free room where you can clear your mind. Almost all of them were dark... except for one.

A dim light filtered from the inside, accompanied by a soft melody played on the piano. When you looked out, you saw it.

Xiaojun, sitting in front of the keys, with his eyes narrowed while he touched something you didn't recognize. It was a slow melody, full of feeling, as if he were talking to someone without words.

He didn't see you come in. Not until you moved a foot unintentionally.

He raised his head, surprised, but when he recognized you, his expression softened.

"Oh... it's you," he said with that deep and calm voice that always felt like a warm hug. “I thought I was alone”

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't interrupt," he smiled. “In fact... I'm glad you came in”

Xiaojun knocked on the bench, inviting you to sit next to him. The low lights and the empty room made everything feel more intimate than normal.

"What were you playing?" you asked.

He rested his fingers on the keys, pressing them gently to play the melody again.

"Something I'm composing." He paused. "He doesn't have a name yet”

“It sounds... melancholic”

"Because I thought of someone I care about," he replied without looking at you, but with a smile that said it all.

You were silent for a few seconds, feeling that the air became warm, heavy with sincerity. Finally Xiaojun stopped playing and turned to you.

"Do you want to listen to her from the beginning?" he asked. Then he added, softer—: “Only for you”

You barely had time to nod before he started playing again.

This time the melody was even more beautiful. More full of intention. As if every note was put there to reach you.

While playing, Xiaojun stole small glances, as if looking for your reactions, as if each one was a silent answer he needed.

When he finished, he put his hand on the keys for a moment longer, then exhaled.

"If you listen to her... I feel it makes sense," he said softly.

Your heart skipped a beat. Xiaojun noticed it. He always noticed it.

"Can I say something?" he asked.

“Yes”

"I like it when you show up without warning," he murmured sincerely. “It makes this place feel less empty”

The silence between you was no longer uncomfortable. It was warm. Close.

Xiaojun extended his hand towards yours, without forcing, just offering it. And when you took it, his smile became as soft as the melody he had played.

"Stay for a while," he asked. “I want to keep playing... but this time, with you here”

And so you did it.

In a quiet room, illuminated by the moon that came in through the window, listening to how his notes seemed to have your name among them.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms (in that case it must be consulted in private)

[renctlab]

Warm Light - LEE DONGHYUCK

Warning: none

Genere: Soft, warm, tender and with a romantic touch

The sun was beginning to set, dyeing the sky with soft colors—pinks that mixed with orange, as if someone had painted the sunset with watercolors. You had climbed to the roof of the building looking for a moment of tranquility after a heavy day.

You didn't expect to find anyone up there. Much less to Haechan, sitting on the edge, legs hanging towards the void, holding a hot drink in both hands.

He turned when he heard the door, and his smile was so natural and bright that it almost made you forget why you had gone up.

"Did you come to escape too?" he asked, giving you a soft tap on the empty space next to him.

"I didn't know you had to reserve the place," you replied, sitting down.

Haechan extended his glass to you without thinking twice. "Try it." It's sweet”

"Why are you give it to me?"

"Because I know your day was bad," he said with total sincerity, looking at you sideways. “You can tell in your eyes”

You tried the drink. It was warm, cozy, with that touch of sugar that relaxed you instantly. "Yes, it's sweet."

"I told you," he smiled proudly, as if he had settled a great mystery.

The wind blew softly, moving Haechan's hair. He tilted his head, looking at you as if he was reading something in your expression.

“You know” he began “sometimes I just…” he made a vague gesture with his hands. “You just need a place that reminds you that not everything is so heavy”

"And this roof is that place for you?" you asked.

Haechan laughed softly. "No, not this place." He looked directly at you, without looking away. “Today, you are”

The air stood still for a moment. It wasn't tension, nor nervousness. It was softness. A deep calm that made everything feel... safe.

"You always know what to say," you murmured.

"Not always," he confessed, swinging his legs. “But with you... words come out easily”

Without realizing it, you rested your head on his shoulder. Haechan wasn't even surprised. He just turned a little to accommodate you better, as if he had been waiting for you to do it.

"Hey," he said after a few seconds, with his lower voice, the one he only uses when he is being completely honest. “I don't want you to be alone today”

"I'm not alone," you breathed, feeling the warmth of his shoulder, of his closeness. “You're here”

Haechan smiled, although you couldn't see him. You felt it in the slight movement of his chest, in the sigh he let out, in the way his head rested gently on yours.

"Then let's stay like this," he whispered. Until the sky goes completely dark.

And they did it.

No hurry. No weight. Only two people sharing the warm light of the sunset, finding peace in the presence of each other.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In this case it must be consulted in private)

[renctlab]

Velvet Breath - JEONG JAEHYUN

Warning: none

Genere: Intense, loaded with romantic/erotic tension but WITHOUT explicit content,

The room was illuminated only by the dim light that came in from the window, the orange reflection of the night city drawing long shadows on the walls. You didn't expect anyone that night. Much less to him.

Jaehyun was leaning against the door frame, black shirt unbuttoned on the first two buttons, his hair slightly damp as if he had run in the rain. His eyes ran through you slowly, without hiding anything.

"Your door was open," he said softly, with that deep tone that seemed to vibrate in the air. “I didn't think it would bother you if... I came in”

Your breath got stuck for a second. Jaehyun took a step, and then another. His every move had an electric weight, a gravity that pulled you without asking permission.

"It should bother me," you replied, although your voice sounded much less firm than you wanted.

"But it doesn't bother you," he whispered.

I was in front of you now. Very close. You could feel the heat it gave off even if I hadn't touched you yet. You could hear his breathing. You could feel yours speeding up.

"I've had a long day," Jaehyun said, with a barely visible smile. “And I don't know why... but my body ended up here”

His fingers brushed your waist, barely a touch, but enough for your legs to weaken for an instant. Jaehyun noticed it. Of course he noticed it.

"Are you shaking?" he asked in a deep whisper, leaning enough for his breath to touch the curve of your neck.

"I'm not..." you began to say, but his hand slowly went up your back, stopping right between your shoulder blades. His touch was warm, firm. Too conscious.

"Of course you are," he murmured with a soft, dangerous smile.

Your words died in your throat when Jaehyun brought his face closer to yours. He didn't kiss you. Not yet. He simply left his lips a sigh away from yours, his gaze fixed on yours as if he wanted to memorize every reaction.

The silence became thick, dense, full of possibilities.

"You don't know how much..." he said in a hoarse voice, "how much I've thought about this."

The hand on your back brought you another centimeter closer. No more. Just enough to feel it. To imagine what would come if I crossed the line.

"Jaehyun..." you whispered, not realizing that you were approaching too.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he contained the impulse that pushed him towards you.

"Tell me to stay away," he asked, although his voice had no real intention of obeying.

His lips brushed yours, barely a touch, like a thread of fire tense between them. Not a kiss. But so close that it almost hurt.

"I can't," you admitted.

Jaehyun's eyes opened, dark, intense, completely dedicated to you.

"Then I won't do it."

And at that moment, when his forehead leaned against yours, his breathing mixed with yours and his hands slowly surrounding your waist, you knew that the line no longer existed.

The whole room became too small for the tension between the two. And when Jaehyun finally let his lips meet yours - slow, deep, full of contained intention - the world was reduced to that single point of contact.

To you. To him. To everything they had been avoiding, for too long.

©renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In this case it must be consulted to private)

[renctlab]

Neon Rain - KUN

Warning: none

Genere: Intense, intimate and full of emotional tension

The city was covered by a mantle of fine rain, which made the neon lights reflect on the puddles of the street as if they were suspended flames. You walked fast, looking to escape from the cold and the thoughts that haunted you since the morning, when you saw him.

Kun, leaning against the wall of a building, with his hood on, looking at a puddle as if he were lost in it. One hand held a closed umbrella, while the other played absently with the edge of his coat.

When he looked up and saw you, his eyes shone under the orange light of the lamppost.

"I never thought I'd see you around here," he said in a low, soft, a little sharp voice. “What are you doing in this rain disaster?”

"I was just walking," you replied, trying to make your voice sound firm. “And you, what are you doing standing here like a movie cliché?”

Kun smiled, but it wasn't fun. It was one of those smiles that weigh, that drag some history behind.

"I was waiting," he replied. “Something I maybe didn't know I was waiting for”

You took a step closer, but he didn't move. He just looked at you, studying each reaction as if he could decipher you at a glance.

"Were you waiting for someone?" you asked, letting the rain begin to soak you.

"Someone," he said, his words echoing like an echo. “And I think... you didn't arrive on time”

"Me?"

Kun tilted his head slightly. His eyes softened for a moment, but the tension remained. "It doesn't matter," he murmured. The important thing is that you are here now.

He approached slowly, without an umbrella, letting the rain fall on his coat. The water made every strand of his hair stick to his face, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes didn't leave yours.

"It's cold," you said, more for talking than for worrying.

Kun raised his hand and touched your cheek with his fingertips, lightly, almost weightless. "Not as much as this," he whispered. “Not as much as looking at you now”

Your heart took an unexpected leap. He was close. Too close. And the rain, the neon, the empty street... everything seemed to amplify it.

"Kun..." you said, not knowing if it was a warning or a question. “What are you doing?”

"What I should have done a long time ago," he replied, with contained firmness. “Tell you that I won't let you go so easily”

And then, for a moment, the world disappeared: the rain, the lights, the distant noise of the cars... everything was reduced to you two, breathing under the neon fog.

Kun took one more step, so close that your breaths mixed. "I want you to know..." he whispered. “That it's not just the rain that catches me here tonight”

Your fingers trembled slightly. His eyes, intense, did not blink. And while the city followed its distant rhythm, you understood that some rains not only wet the skin... but also the heart.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In this case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Sweet Corn Chaos - KIM JUNGWOO

Warning: none

Genere: light, charming and a little chaotic-romantic

The supermarket was surprisingly full for a Tuesday night. You just wanted to buy something quick for dinner and get out of there before the lines got worse.

But, among the snack shelves... someone was having a small existential crisis in front of two bags of microwave popcorn.

“Sweet… or salty…?” he murmured. “Why does life put me to such difficult tests?”

You recognized the voice before the face.

Jungwoo.

Standing, with a comfortable sweatshirt and a little disheveled hair, he looked at the bags as if he was about to sign a life or death contract.

You coughed accidentally (or not so much). He turned around immediately.

“¡Oh!” his eyes opened. “Hello. It’s not what it seems”

"It looks like you're in a battle against popcorn”

"It's exactly what it looks like," he admitted. “I'm undecided. This is important”

He took a step closer, lifting both bags.

"See, which one would you choose?"

"It depends," you said. “What mood are you in?”

Jungwoo pressed his lips, thinking about it seriously.

"I think in a salty mood... but also sweet. Ugh”

"That's being human, Jungwoo”

"It's hard to be human," he replied dramatically.

He finally dropped both bags on the cart.

“Both?" you asked.

"Yes. I made a wise decision: to avoid deciding," he said proudly. “I'm a genius”

You laughed. He too, as if the situation was the funniest thing in the world.

"What are you coming to buy?" he asked, leaning curiously towards your empty cart. “Nothing yet... wow, how mysterious”

"I was going for fast food”

Jungwoo raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of fast food?"

"Something that doesn't force me to think”

"So we are destined to meet today," he said naturally. “I don't want to think either”

Before you could answer, he took your wrist gently.

"Come. I'm going to show you the secret section of this supermarket”

"Secret section?"

"Yes," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “The corner where they put the delicious things that no one notices”

He took you down a corridor and turned behind a shelf. There was a mini fridge with desserts that no one seemed to touch.

"Here it is," he said proudly. “My refuge”

"I've never seen her”

"Because it's hidden," he said theatrically. “Like a treasure. And because I'm a born explorer”

He took out two caramel puddings.

"Take one," he said without waiting for an answer.

"Why?"

"Because..." he smiled, lowering his tone, "the pudding tastes better when you eat it accompanied”

Your heart took a little unexpected jump.

Jungwoo, apparently ignoring him, put both puddings in your cart with all the confidence in the world.

"Do you see? It's no longer empty. We are progressing”

"You're deciding everything for me," you joked.

"Exactly," he said. “That's my secret talent: solving problems they didn't ask me to solve”

They arrived at the box, and while they waited, he looked at you sideways, with that soft, clean smile, so Jungwoo that it made anyone feel warm in their chest.

"Do you mind if..." he said a little more shyly. "we walk together to the outside when we finish?"

"For what?"

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck. “I could say it's to make sure you get home well with the pudding... but in reality...”

He was silent for a second, then smiled bigger.

"Actually, I just want to keep talking to you."

Sincerity hit you soft, like a hug.

"Of course," you replied.

And when they left the supermarket together, he held the bag with your desserts as if it were the most natural gesture in the world.

"By the way," he said as they walked. “I decided that we will solve the next popcorn crisis together”

"Does that mean I'll see you again?"

Jungwoo turned to you, bright eyes under the parking lights.

"That means I would love to."

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In this case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Acrylic Dreams - HUANG RENJUN

Warning: none

Genere: delicate, introspective and warm, with a soft atmosphere and an artistic touch

The art workshop was silent, lit only by warm lamps that fell directly on the paint-stained tables. At that time, almost no one stayed. Except you... and the person you never imagined finding there.

Renjun, leaning over a small canvas, with a slightly frown and a stain of blue paint on his cheek.

You recognized him by the delicate profile, the hair falling right where he wanted, and the almost absolute concentration that surrounded him like a silent aura.

He didn't see you come in. Or maybe yes, but he decided to pretend not to.

You advanced to your table, trying not to interrupt, but a chair ranked. Renjun looked up instantly.

His eyes, warm and attentive, met yours.

“Ah…” he barely smiled. “I didn't know that someone else would come so late”

“I didn't know you were staying at this time either” you answered.

Renjun put down the brush, wiping his hands with a handkerchief that had already lived too many battles against the paint.

“Sometimes silence is inspiring” he said. “Sometimes, a little sad. It depends on the day”

“¿And today?”

Renjun watched you for a moment longer than necessary. Then his smile softened.

“Today is not sad”

You came over to see his painting. It was a landscape, but not a realistic one. The colors mixed like blurred emotions: blues that looked like sighs, soft yellows, touches of white that gave the sensation of light filtering through a window.

“It’s beautiful” you said.

Renjun tilted his head.

“I’m not sure yet. I feel that something is missing”

“¿What’s missing?”

He was thoughtful.

“Maybe… something warmer. Something that balances the cold”

As he spoke, his eyes slid towards you again, as if the answer was right there, in front of him. Then, he shook his head and laughed softly, as if scolding himself for saying too much.

“Can’t I see what you’re painting?” he asked.

“I haven’t started yet”

“So” he said, moving a chair to leave it next to yours. “Let’s start”

He sat next to you.

Very close. Enough to notice the faint smell of soap and fresh paint on his clothes.

Renjun took a brush from the boat in front of you and held it as if he was offering it to you in secret.

“When you don’t know where to start” he said in a low voice. “You just have to put a color on the canvas. The one who is born first. Without thinking about it”

"Even if it doesn't match?"

“The most beautiful things don’t always match” he replied with a small but sincere smile. “Sometimes, they just… fit”

His words touched you more than they should.

You took the brush. You chose a color without thinking about it: a warm tone, between orange and pink. Renjun watched your choice with a soft glint in his eyes.

“That color” he said. “Does suit you”

You stopped, feeling your heart tighten a little.

"Do you always say such direct things?"

Renjun rested his elbow on the table, his cheek against his hand, looking at you unhurriedly.

"Only when I feel it."

There was a silence... but one full of something soft, warm. Like the light of the workshop. Like the paint that began to slide down the canvas. Like the way Renjun really seemed to see you, without haste and without judgment.

"If you want..." he finally said, "we can paint together more often."

"Because I'm a good apprentice?"

Renjun denied with a soft laugh.

"Because I like how the weather feels when you're here."

Your fingers loosened around the brush. The painting continued to run. And Renjun was still there by your side, filling the study with a calm that you didn't know you needed.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In this case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Midnight Static - NAKAMOTO YUTA

Warning: none

Genere: mature, aesthetic, with soft tension and an emotional point

The photography studio was almost empty when you came in. Only the soft buzzing of the lights and the distant click of a camera being adjusted could be heard. You had arrived to pick up some prints that you had ordered… but the manager asked you to wait a few minutes.

And that’s when you saw it.

In the middle of the improvised set, sitting in a high chair, with a leather jacket slightly dropped over one shoulder, was Yuta. The hair a little ruffled, the gaze fixed on the monitor in front of him, the white light highlighting each of this features.

You weren’t prepared to see it, so closely. Or to see it at all.

“Oh” Yuta said when he noticed your presence. “I thought no one else was coming at this time”

His voice had that characteristic low and scratchy tone, a mixture of calm and sharp. He got off the chair, adjusting his jacket.

“Sorry if I interrupted” you said.

“You don’t interrupt” he assured, approaching with slow steps. “In fact… I’m glad you came in. I was falling asleep with so much silence”

He smiled at you, a small but dangerous smile, the one that was not an idol’s but a real person’s, off camera.

“Are you coming to take pictures?” he asked, leaning on a nearby table without stopping looking at you.

“I’m just coming to pick up some”

“Ah” Yuta tilted his head. “Did you take them?”

“Yes”

Her expression changed, curious. Interested.

“I can see them when they are ready… if you want”

Your heart was a little startled. “Why would you want to see them?”

Yuta shrugged, getting a little closer, as if distance was a suggestion and not a rule.

“I like te see how others look at the world” he explained. “It says a lot about a person”

You didn’t know what to answer to that.

The back door closed, a sign that the manager had gone to the back room for a few minutes. And suddenly, it was just Yuta, you, and the soft light of the study.

He took a camera that was on the table. Not yours; just one from the studio.

“Can I?” he asked, lifting her a little.

“What?”

“Make a picture of you”

Your breathing was half-hearted.

“To me?”

“Yes” his smile was now a little more daring. “You took pictures. Now let me have one”

“I’m not a model”

“Perfect” he said, approaching. “I prefer people who don’t pose. The truth is more interesting”

And before you could deny, Yuta raised the camera. The click resounded soft, precise.

“I wasn’t looking” you protested with a nervous laugh.

“I know” he replied, lowering the camera. “But you were being you. That’s what I wanted”

There was a hot silence.

Yuta put the camera back on the table, this time closer to you.

“Do you know…?” he said slowly. “You have a calm energy. I like it”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s something dangerous “ he replied with a half smile. “Because it makes me want to stay a little longer”

The back door opened again, breaking the bubble. The manager announced that your prints were ready.

“Go” Yuta said softly. “I won’t waste your time anymore”

But when you took he envelope and turned to say goodbye, he was still there, looking at you with a warm intensity.

“If you come again” he added. “let me know”

“For what?”

Yuta raised an eyebrow.

“So that I’m the one who takes your picture this time. But looking at me”

A slight chill ran down your back.

“I promise to make it worth it”

And his smile, slow and dangerous, was engraved in your memory as another photograph impossible to erase.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Paper Planes - MAEDA RIKU

Warning: none

Genere: fluff, warm and youth

The afternoon had that golden color that only appears in spring, when the sun begins to go down but still does not give up completely. From the roof of the school building, the wind blew in gentle gusts, lifting strands of your hair as your watched the courtyard empty little by little.

You had gone up there to clear yourself.

You didn’t expect to find anyone.

But there was Riku, sitting on the safe edge of the railing, his feet hanging, looking at a bunch of perfectly folded paper planes next to him.

“Ah” he said as soon as he saw you. “I thought it was tha science teacher… again. Hello”

His smile was small, but genuine. That was something you noticed a lot in him: he smiled as if he really wanted to do it, as if every time he was born alone.

“Can I…?” you asked, pointing to the space next to him.

“Yes, of course” he replied, moving his little planes to make room. “Just don’t step on this one, it’s my favorite”

“What are you doing here?”

Riku lifted a small white plane, with small drawings on the wings.

“Practicing” he said with exaggerated seriousness. “I’m trying to figure out the perfect way for them to fly far”

“For a project?”

“For me” he replied laughing. “I like to see them fly. It calms me down”

The wind blew a little harder. Riku got up, took a light blue plane and held it in front of him.

“Look at this” he said. “I think this one is good”

When he launched it, the plane crossed the roof almost from end to end, gliding gently before descending in a spiral. Riku broke into a wide, contagious smile.

“Did you see that? Yes!” he said raising his hands as if he had won a prize.

You laughed, surprised by the sudden energy.

“It’s very satisfying” you admitted.

Riku bent down, picked up another plane and extended it to you.

“Here” he said. “Yo try”

You took it, examining the small wrinkles on the paper. There was a drawing made with a pen: a star and a happy face. Very Riku.

“Ready?” he asked, standing next to you.

“I guess”

“Don’t assume” he said, with a playful tone. “Trust. If the plane crashes, it’s my fault for folding it wrong”

“What if it flies badly because of my launch?”

“Then I promise to teach you” he replied with a soft smile. “I’m a good teacher. More or less”

You took a deep breath, raised your arm and launched the plane.

He flew.

Not as far as his, but elegantly, swinging a little before landing.

Riku made a victory gesture.

“Did you see that?! It was great”

“It wasn’t bad” you laughed”

Riku leaned over to pick it up. As he straightened up, the afternoon sun fell right on his face, making his eyes shine in a warm, almost golden way. He blinked, surprised by the light, and then smiled in a calmer way.

“I like this place” he said suddenly. “When I’m here, I feel like… I can think without pressure. And when I’m with someone I like, it’s even better”

Your heart took a little unexpected jump.

Riku let out a shy laugh.

“Ah… I didn’t say it weird, did I?”

“No” he replied softly. “Not at all”

There was a comfortable silence, one of those that don’t weigh. Only wind, golden light and a sky that was beginning to turn pink.

“Do you want to stay a little longer?” Riku asked, looking at you with those sincere eyes that seemed unable to hide anything.

“Yes” you said without thinking.

“Good” he smiled. “I had more planes. And if you stay long enough… I’ll teach you how to make one like mine”

He sat down again, leaving a little plane between the two of you.

“I promise he’ll be the best of all” he added. “Done between the two”

And as the afternoon continued to go down and the world became softer, you realized that on that roof, between paper planes and quiet laughter, something began to feel special.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on the any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Crosswalk Lights - JOHNNY SUH

Warning: none

Genere: adult-emotional, night environment, calm but intense chemistry

The city was humid after the rain, with puddles reflecting the red and green lights of the traffic lights as if they were blurred brushstrokes on the asphalt. You had left work late and now you were waiting for the bus under a marquee that didn’t protect too much from the wind.

At that time, the streets were almost empty.

Almost.

Becaus, a few meters away, a tall man adjusted the strap of his backpack while taking on the phone in a low and deep voice. It wasn’t his appearance that caught your attention first, but the laughter: warm, soft, unmistakable.

Johnny.

You didn’t know whether to approach or pretend not to have seen him. But he looked up at the very moment you decided to look away. His eyes lit up.

“Hey” he said, with a slow smile that warmed you up more than the entire marquee. “Long time without seeing you”

He hung up the call and walked towards you, with calm steps, as if the night belonged to him. That was the kind of presence Johnny had: it made everything around look a little bigger, but also safer.

“Waiting for the bus at this hour?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I didn’t have many options” you replied. “And you… what are you doing around here?”

Johnny pointed to the building across the street.

“I was recording something. It took longer than expected”

His voice had that scratchy touch that always appeared when he was tired. But it still sounded warm, familiar.

The traffic light turned green and the steam from the ground rose in small clouds. Johnny tilted his head, looking at you with genuine attention.

“You look exhausted. Heavy day?”

“A little” you admitted.

He took a step closer, enough for you to feel his presence as if it were a light blanket.

“Do you want company while you wait?” he asked.

“Aren’t you in a hurry?”

“Not today” he replied, leaning on the column of the marquee. “And besides… it’s cold. I’m not going to leave you here just freezing. I’m from Chicago, I have principles”

You laughed. He too.

The silence that followed was comfortable. Johnny looked at the street lights, then your hands, then the rain that began to fall again in small drops.

“Sometimes I like this” he said suddenly. “The city late, when everything calms down. It gives you space to breathe”

“I guess so” you replied.

Johnny looked at you sideways, and there was something different in that look. Softer. More direct.

“It also gives you time to think about the things you miss” he added.

You tended up a little. “And what do you miss?”

Johnny took a long time to answer. Enough for the rain to become more constant and the traffic light to change again.

“Simplicity” he finally said, with disarming honesty. “Moments like this. Normal. No cameras. No noise”

His voice became lower.

“The people I can… talk to without filters”

Those words hit you more than expected.

Before you could answer, the bus appeared in the distance, the lights slowly approaching. Johnny saw your expression and tilted his head, thoughtful.

“Do you want me to take the bus with you?” he asked. “I can accompany you for a couple of stops. I don’t have to leave yet”

“No need, Johnny”

“It’s not out of obligation” he said, with a soft smile. “It’s because I want to”

There was a second when the world seemed to stop. Just the sound of the rain, the reflection of the light ms in his eyes, and the strange heartbeat that ran through your chest.

“It’s okay” you whispered.

Johnny smiled, satisfied in a discreet way.

When they got on the bus, he sat next to you, so close that his shoulders brushed at every turn. The interior was warm, silent. The city passed blurry through the window.

“You know?” he said while leaning his head against the backrest. “I’m glad I found you today”

“Why?”

Johnny looked at you with a disarming sincerity.

“Because with you… everything feels a little lighter”

And that phrase, said in a low voice inside an almost empty bus, would accompany you much further than any stop.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on the any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Soft Focus - NA JAEMIN

Warning: none

Genere: fluff

The photography studio was almost empty when you arrived, except for the soft buzzing of a lamp and the smell of newly revealed photographic paper. You had been called to help review a series of images for a special project, but when you entered, you realized that you were not alone.

Jaemin was sitting on the floor, surrounded by prints scattered like petals. He was wearing a light hoodie, his hair a little messy and a pencil between his lips, as if he had forgotten that he was there.

He looked up as soon as he heard your footsteps.

“Ah, it’s you” he said, with a tired smile. “Perfecto I need…” he murmured something unintelligible because the pencil was still in his mouth.

“Take that off before trying to talk, please” you laughed.

He obeyed and sighed, letting himself fall backwards.

“I need a second opinion. Or a third. Or maybe a completely new mind because mine has already melted” he said dramatically.

You approached, looking at the surrounding photos. Portraits, shadows, cold colors, expressions captured in vulnerable moments.

“They’re good” you said.

“They are… almost good” Jaemin corrected. “And that frustrates me more than if they were bad”

You looked at him. He frowned slightly, but his eyes kept shining with that calm intensity that seemed to illuminate even a windowless room.

“What exactly are you looking for?” you asked.

Jaemin was silent for a moment, as if he was ordering invisible thoughts.

“I’m looking for… to feel something” he finally said. “Let a photo speak to me. Let him hit me here” he touched his chest. “But they all feel… empty”

His frustration was noticeable, but also a deep need for his work to mean something real.

You sat next to him, picking up one of the impressions. It was a technically impeccable photo, but something was missing. Life. Or maybe, soul.

“Can Insee what you didn’t print?” you asked.

He blinked, surprised.

“I have some… discarded” he replied, hesitating. “But they are… imperfect”

“Let me see” you insisted.

Jaemin went to the computer, opened a hidden folder (literally called ‘don’t look’), and showed several discarded shots. They were different. More natural, less controlled. Faces captured between laughter, blurred movements, spontaneous glances.

“These have a soul” you said without hesitation.

“But they are technically…” he began to say.

“Perfect, no. Hooray, yes”

He stared at the screen, as if he saw the photos for the first time with different eyes.

“Really…?” he asked in a almost shy voice.

“Seriously”

Jaemin sat down again, but now closer, with his legs crossed and his attention completely on you.

“Do you know why I called you?” he asked.

“Why do I answer messages quickly?” you joked.

He smiled, shaking his head.

“Because you always see the things that I overlook” he said softly. “And because… with you I can release perfection for a little while. It does me good”

Your heart gave you a little turn.

“Jaemin…” you began.

“I’m not saying anything strange” he laughed. “It’s just that… when you’re here, things stop feeling so… heavy”

That was strange in him: Jaemin always seemed to be in control, always brilliant, always sure. Seeing him like this, sincere and a little unarmed, was something that went through you.

“So… with ones do you want to use?” you asked to relieve the tension.

Jaemin took one of the discarded photos: a portrait of him, laughing as he tried to move his hair away form the wind. Natural, beautiful, imperfect.

“This one” he said. “Because you choose her”

“I just said I had a soul”

“And that’s enough for me” he replied, looking at you with a softness that left you breathless.

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable. It was warm, full, like a light blanket.

“Are you staying a little longer?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t want to continue working alone”

“Of course” you replied automatically. “I stay”

Jaemin smiled, kept the photos in a new folder ( ‘yes look’), and lit another lamp, making the room fill with a soft, almost intimate light.

“I knew you would come” he said before returning to work.

“Oh, really? Do you trust me that much?”

“No” he replied with a mischievous smile. “I trust how you make me feel when you’re around”

The phrase floated in the air… and it stayed with you more than all the photos on the wall.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on the any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Neon Draft - YANGYANG

Warning: none

Genere: fluff

The cafeteria was almost empty when you arrived. The neon street lights came in through the windows, painting the interior with pink and blue tones that surprisingly combined with the smell of roasted coffee. You knew that time —after ten at night— was not the usual one for meetings, but Yangyang had written to you with a short and urgent message:

‘Can you come? I need help. And it’s not a drama, I promise.’

You took off your scarf, looking for some sign with your eyes… until you saw it in the back corner. Headphones around the neck, laptop open, a huge glass of hot chocolate and the expression of someone who has been struggling with a document for hours.

“You arrived just in time” Yangyang said looking up, as if you had saved the world by simply appearing.

“What’s going on?”

He turned the screen towards you. A blank sheet, only with the title:

‘PROJECT — Creative Presentation’

“I have to deliver this tomorrow and I have NOTHING. Zero. Absolute emptiness” he said dramatically, letting himself fall on the table. “My brain is on strike”

“What exactly do you need?”

“Ideas. Words. Inspiration. A miracle. Any of those will do”

You couldn’t help laughing. You sat in front of him and took a sip of his chocolate. Yangyang opened his eyes as if you had taken something sacred for him.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“You needed it less than I did” you replied.

He snorted, and after a minute of silence, he looked at you with a mixture of frustration and hope.

“I know you’re good at thinking things. When I talk to you, I always get ideas without wanting to. As if your head made… weird clicks”

“Thank you… I guess”

“It’s a compliment” he insisted.

Yangyang began to explain his project to you: a creative presentation where he had to express what it mean for him to ‘create something of his own’. The problem was that, according to him, everything sounded pretentious or empty.

“I don’t want to write something that looks like I’m trying to impress a teacher” he said. “I want it to sound like me”

“Then talk to me like you” you said. “Don’t think about the teacher”

That stoped him. He frowned, thoughtful. “Like when I talk to you?”

“Exactly”

Yangyang took a deep breath, took off his headphones and he looked at you.

“When I believe something… I feel like it’s my way of shouting without making noise” he began, surprising himself with the words. “As if I could say everything I don’t dare to say out loud”

You quickly took note, fascinated by the sudden honesty.

“Go on” you encouraged him.

“And…” he inhaled. “When people see what I did, even if it’s something small, I feel that… they understand me, you know? As if someone heard a message that I didn’t even know I was sending”

His eyes shone with a mixture of vulnerability and genuine enthusiasm.

“That’s incredible” you said. “Write it like this. As it is”

Yangyang let your words settle. He moved the laptop towards him again and began to write, quickly, almost without thinking about it, as if that spark had been trapped inside him all day, waiting to turn on.

After a few minutes, he stopped.

“Do you know why I wanted you to come?” he asked without looking at you.

“Because of my incredible grades?” you joked.

“Because I don’t have to pretend anything with you” he said in a calm, sincere voice. “And that helps me think. It makes me… be me”

You stood still for a few seconds. The cafeteria was silent, the neon lights flashing on the window. A moment suspended.

Yangyang looked up and smiled, one of those small but real smiles.

“Thank you for coming” he whispered. “And for… you know. To be you”

You filled his words with a meaning that he didn’t finish saying, but that was clearly there.

“You can always call me” you said. “For projects, creative emergencies or stolen chocolate”

“Especially chocolate” he replied, laughing as he gently pushed your shoulder. “You are officially my night muse”

“That sounds very dangerous”

“It is” he admitted with a mischievous smile.

When they finished the draft, the city was almost asleep. They went out together, walking under the pink lights flashing lifted the cafeteria sign. Yangyang lifted the printed document and waved it in the air as if it were a trophy.

“Mission accomplished” he said.

“You still have to present it tomorrow”

“Yes, but tha part is less scary” he added, looking at you sideways. “I already did the hard part with you”

He gave you a soft blow with the folded paper and then put his hands in his pockets.

“Hey…” he said, more shyly than usual. “Can I call you tomorrow after presenting it? I want to tell you how it went”

“Of course” you replied without thinking about it. “Call me”

He smiled in that way that makes the world shine a little more.

And the night, illuminated by neons, seemed to save that moment as a photograph.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on the any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Mirage Line - HENDERY

Warning: none

Genere: fluff

The desert at sunset had a golden color that you had never seen. The heat rose from the ground in trembling waves, as if the sand were breathing. You had arrived at the place for a special photo shoot, a small but artistic project that needed almost impossible natural lighting. That’s why the team worked against the clock, waiting for that precise moment when the light became liquid.

“Are you still adjusting that?” asked a funny voice behind.

You turned around and saw him approaching: Hendery, with his hair held by a bandana and a light shirt that the wind insisted on lifting. He hada bottle of water in one hand and a smile so wide that he made him forget his tiredness.

“If the camera is not perfect, you will complain later” you said, pretending to be serious.

“I never complain. I only give very… passionate comments” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in a dramatic gesture.

You took the bottle and drank a little. He laughed as if that was completely normal.

The photographer called the team to get ready, but before you walked away, Hendery stared at you curiously.

“You’re quieter today” he said. “Nervous?”

You didn’t want to admit it, but he already knew you well enough.

“I just want everything to go well” you replied.

“Then it’s going to be fine” he said with such simple certainty that it almost looked like magic. “When you’re in a project, it always happens”

You blushed, although you hid it by adjusting your camera. Hendery always achieved that without proposing it: make your defenses undone a little.

The session began. He posed between dunes, then on a flat rock, moving with an almost feline naturalness. He had that mixture of spontaneous charisma and involuntary elegance that made it impossible to take a bad photo. Sometimes he joked, sometimes he concentrated; and every time the wind blew hard, the light enveloped him as if the desert recognized him.

But then, a large cloud covered the sun and the lighting fell suddenly.

“No, no, no” you murmured, checking the screen. “If we lost this light, we lose the whole concept”

After a few tense minutes, the sun barely came out again. It wasn’t enough. You bit your lower lip, trying to calculate if it was worth continuing.

Hendery approached, immediately noticing your frustration. “Hey, look at me for a second”

You looked up.

“Let’s try again” he said. “Trust. Sometimes the best photos happen when no one expects anything”

“That sounds very philosophical coming from you” you joked weakly.

“I’m entering my wise era” he replied with a mystical gesture of his hands. “You’re welcome”

You didn’t want to waste time, but there was something in his voice that calmed the noise of your mind. You repositioned yourself with the camera. Hendery moved away a few meters, took a breath and stood right on the edge of where the dim light touched the sand.

And then something strange happened.

A gust of wind raised golden dust, the could opened just a couple of seconds and ray of sun crossed the scene with a perfect glow. Hendery turned right at that moment, looking back over his shoulder, his hair dancing and a free, luminous expression.

You shot instinctively. Three, four, five photos.

The sun was hiding again… but it was already done.

“I think I have something” you whispered.

When you checked the screen, you froze. It was perfect. Not technically perfect, but alive. As if the instant had been a shared secret between you two and the desert.

“Let’s see, let me see” Hendery said, approaching much more than necessary.

When he looked at the image, he opened his eyes as if he were a child seeing magic for the first time.

“That… is it me?” he asked in a surprised tone.

“It’s you” you said, keeping the camera as if it were a treasure.

Hendery kept looking at you, not the photo, but at you.

“I knew it was going to go well” he said softly. “Because you were behind the camera”

His words touched you more than you wanted to admit.

The team began to collect, the light went out, the day ended. He walked with you to the van, with slow steps, without haste.

“Hey” he murmured while the wind continued to to play with his shirt. “When you edit those photos… will you invite me? I want to see how that moment shines on your screen. With you”

You didn’t know how to answer instantly. But his look was warm, sincere, almost like the ray of sunshine that had saved them.

“Of course” you finally said. “Come whenever you want”

Hendery smiled, that smile that seemed like an open horizon.

And the desert, silent and golden, seemed to keep the echo of that moment forever.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

Night Shift Glow - LEE JENO

Warning: none

Genere: fluff

The lobby clock was 11:47 pm when you finally took off your work credential. The night shift in the production building was exhausting, but that night the main corridor was unusually lit. The side screen ms projected images of choreographies and incomplete graphics, as if someone had forgotten to close everything after rehearsing.

You didn’t care until you heard a slight knock behind one of the metal doors.

“Hello?” you asked, barely pushing.

The door opened and you almost bumped into someone coming out. You threw yourself back by reflex, but two quick hands held you before you lost your balance.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t see you” said a warm voice, with that soft timbre that you recognized immediately.

It was Jeno, with a black hoodie, slightly messy hair and a small bandage poking out of his right arm. Despite the time, he seemed awake, alert… and surprised to find you there.

“What are you doing so late?” he asked, exchanging the weight from one leg to another, as if trying to hide his tiredness.

You explained to him that you were finishing some file tasks when you heard noises. He sighed with a shy smile.

“Then I owe you an apology. I was trying a couple of things and…” he looked towards the empty room “I think I went a little too far with the jumps”

“Training at this time?” you asked with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

“Tomorrow we have an important review” he replied, looking down. “And I didn’t feel satisfied with a part”

There was something honest in his voice, a tiredness that came not only from the silent pressure he carried. You pointed out the bandage on his arm.

“And that?”

Jeno stared at him as if he had just remembered that he was wearing it. “Nothing serious. I tore my skin a little while practicing turns… it’s not pretty, but it passes quickly”

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but rather a space to breathe. Then he added, almost hesitating: “Do you want to see the part I’m trying to fix? Maybe from the outside it looks less… awkward”

You accepted, although what you wanted most was to make sure he didn’t get hurt again. They entered the room: lights off, only a dim row on the ceiling, enough to distinguish the shadows.

Jeno connected his phone to the speakers and the music filled the space with a powerful rhythm, marked by electronic pulses. As soon as he started, he changed. His posture became precise, his eyes focused, each muscle obeying a choreography he knew by heart.

But there was tension, a rigidity hidden in each transition.

When the music ended, Jeno learned on his knees, breathing heavily. “Do you see? Here…” he stopped, trying to explain it with his hands. “I’m supposed to lower the center more, but I can’t make it natural”

You got a little closer.

“I think you’re trying to control it too much” you said. “And you dance better when you let go of the body. Not when you force it”

Jeno looked up at you, surprised. “Do you think?”

“I know” you replied.

He straightened his back, thoughtful, as if those simple words had loosened something inside him. “Come” he finally said, pointing to the center. “Not to make you dance, I promise. I want you to observe me from closer, maybe that’s how I’ll decipher it”

You got where he told you. When he restarted the track, Jeno moved more freely, as if the idea of stopping looking for perfection allowed his body to find the flow by itself. The difference was subtle... but real.

"That," you whispered without realizing it. “Like this”

Jeno smiled as he turned, as if he had heard something more than an observation: as if your words had fit a loose piece.

When he finished, he let himself fall sitting on the floor, laughing with that mixture of relief and shyness so his.

“I don’t know what I would do without people like you” he said. “Those who see things that I never notice because I’m too involved in my head”

“You would probably make it the same” you replied. “You just need to breathe”

“Breathe…” he repeated, as if trying the word.

At that moment his gaze crossed yours. Not intense of uncomfortable. Simple. True. A warm glow was born in his eyes, like the soft glow of a lamp lit in a dark room.

“Thank you for staying with me” he murmured. “Really”

Before you could answer, the automatic light in the hallway flickered and went out again, reminding them of the time. Jeno got up first and offered you a firm hand to help you get up.

“Let me accompany you to the exit” he proposed. “It was enough night for both of us”

As they walked side by side, the early morning cold felt less intense. And maybe it was because of the company, or maybe because of the light sensation in the chest when remembering his smile.

A silent glow, like the one left after a light that goes out. Or like the one Jeno wore in his eyes when he talked about breathing.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on the any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

“Starlit Echo” TEN LEE

Warning: none

Genere: fluff

The rain had begun to fall just as you turned off the last light in the study. The smell of wet cement creeped through the windows, mixing with the distant echo of a song that still vibrated in your headphones. It was late, too late, for someone else to continue in the building, that’s why you we’re surprised to see a silhouette moving inside the main practice room.

You thought maybe it was a technician, but when you opened the door, the music enveloped you like a warm wave and you saw Ten from behind, moving with an almost unreal fluidity. His body seemed to draw invisible lines in the air, as if reality followed the rhythm of his gestures.

“Are you still here?” you asked, not wanting to interrupt completely.

The music stopped. Ten turned to you, sweat on his forehead, agitated breathing, eyes bright from concentration.

“I couldn’t leave without finishing this” he said, dropping his shoulders in an attempt to relax. “What are you doing here so late?”

You explained to him that you were preparing the final mix of the demo that he would use for a special project. Technically you shouldn’t be there at that time, but inspiration doesn’t know clocks, and he knew it.

“Do you want to see it?” he asked suddenly, pointing to the center of the study. “It’s a draft… but I think is already has a heart”

You accepted without thinking about it, because when Ten said that something had a heart, it was almost always true.

The music sounded again, this time from your own phone when you connected the track that you had been polishing all afternoon. Ten closed his eyes as soon as the melody began: soft, with a pulse that grew like a contained heartbeat. Then he moved. He didn’t dance: he talked. Each turn seemed to answer a question, each controlled fall of the torso was a whisper, each extension of arms a cry of freedom.

And you, from the corner, discovered yourself holding your breath.

When he finished, Ten let himself fall sitting on the floor, laughing at the mixture of tiredness and adrenaline.

“I don’t know if it’s good” he said, looking at the ceiling. “I feel that something is still missing”

You approached and sat next to him. The rain hit the windows like discreet applause.

“It has something that can’t be taught” you replied. “Has your truth. That’s not corrected”

Ten turned his head towards you, surprised by the sincerity in your voice. “Do you think? Sometimes I feel that…” he was silent for a second, as if he hesitated to say it. “that I get lost trying to be perfect”

“Perfection is not what makes you special” you said softly. “It’s what you transmit”

There was a moment of silence, but a comfortable one. Ten rested his head on his knees and chuckled.

“You always say exactly what I need to hear” he murmured.

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad”

“Definitely good” he replied, getting up suddenly. “Come, I want to try something”

Without giving you time to react, he took you by the wrist and took you to the center of the study. The action was natural, almost daily, although your heart interpreted something else.

“I don’t know how to dance like you” you protested.

“You don’t have to know” he smiled. “Just follow me”

The track sounded again, now softer, almost a murmur. Ten raised your hand, guiding you mark a simple step from side to side. There was no technique, there was no pressure: only two people moving in a place illuminated by minimal lights and the silver reflection of the rain.

“Do you see?” he whispered. “It’s not about perfection”

And for a moment everything became simple. The music, the rain, the dim light, the breathing synchronized with his. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, feel the warmth of his hand and the shared rhythm.

When the song ended, Ten didn’t let go of your hand immediately. He looked at her as if he kept an answer that he didn’t know how to formulate.

“Thank you for staying” he finally said. “And for the music. I feel like… I can be myself when you’re around”

The phrase was stuck in your chest, but before you could answer, the automatic light in the hallway turned on, reminding them that it was time to leave.

Ten gave you a tired, but real smile. “Let’s continue tomorrow” he proposed. “I think this choreography has something special… and I don’t want to miss it”

As they went out together under an umbrella that was barely enough for two, you realised that notes, steps and silences was not simply inspiration.

It was something that kept beating even when the music turned off.

© renctlab 2025

do NOT copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my works on any social media platforms. (In that case it must be consulted by private)

[renctlab]

WISH NAVIGATION

Oh Sion (오시온)

Maeda Riku (前田陸)

• Paper Planes - Riku x fem reader (fluff)

Tokuno Yūshi (得能勇志)

Kim Daeyoung (김대영)

Hirose Ryo (廣瀬遼)

Fujinaga Sakuya (藤永咲哉)