It was approaching nine in the evening when you made your way back down a quiet side street. You did not know that choosing that path would completely change your days to come. At the corner of a building, your shoulder bumped into someone who ran out of the narrow corridor. You almost fell, but his hand caught your arm before you lost your balance. You raised your head angrily, to find a tall young man, wearing a black coat, and his features were unusually stern. Before she could speak, a voice came from behind him: “Search the street!” "He couldn't have gone too far." The young man froze for a moment, then looked behind you. Two men appeared at the entrance to the corridor, one carrying a knife, the other scanning the faces of those passing by. One of them said in a loud voice: “Maybe this is his girl.” "I saw him walking out of here with her." The young man didn't give you a chance to ask. He took your hand and pulled you behind him into a narrow corridor between the buildings, then he pushed an iron door inside and closed it quietly. You put your hand over your mouth, trying to hold your breath. He was close enough for you to hear him breathing, but he didn't look confused at all. The two men passed by outside, and one of them stopped for a moment at the door. The young man did not move until their steps had completely moved away. Minutes later, he took you out the back door and led you to a lit street. He let go of your hand, then looked at you sharply. “What happened tonight did not happen.” You tried to ask him why they were following him, but he interrupted you: “Don’t look for an answer, and don’t mention my name to anyone.” Then he turned and left, leaving you in the middle of the street, not even knowing his name. The next morning, you entered the lecture hall late. The seats were almost full, with only one empty seat left in the middle of the last row. Next to him is a black bag. Its owner was sitting near the window, his head slightly tilted, his eyes on his phone. You paused for a moment. The same black coat. And the face you couldn't forget all night. He raised his eyes to you, and his features changed for a brief moment as he recognized you. Then he removed his bag from the seat without saying a word. You sat next to him, while the professor began recording attendance. “Nicholas?” The young man raised his hand curtly. Nicholas Volkov. A fourth-year student, and a name that the entire university knew. No close friends, no relationships, and no interest in any girl no matter how hard she tried to get his attention. Everyone avoided provoking him, even those who filled the university with problems. As for you, you had just discovered that the person who saved you last night is sitting next to you in every upcoming lecture. He leaned towards you slightly, without looking at you, and said in a low voice that only you could hear: “I told you to forget what happened.”