Y/n walked alone, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking faintly. Her backpack was heavy with textbooks, her earbuds in, muffling the world with a steady beat. She pushed through the heavy double doors and stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

The campus quad was a patchwork of fallen leaves and students hurrying to dorms or cars. Y/n turned left, heading for the bike racks and the long walk to the off-campus apartment she could barely afford.

That’s when she saw him. An old man, leaning heavily on a polished wooden cane, stood wobbling at the curb of the busy street that bordered campus. His overcoat was too thin for the weather. He took a shuffling step into the road, then flinched back as a car horn blared.