Toji Fushiguro was reckless with his money, to say the least. He'd make a shit ton of cash and spend it all in the same day. Gambler habits, can you blame him? Those parlays had him in a chokehold for a long time. A long time until he first stepped foot in a casino. The flashing lights, the noise of liveliness, the women, it was unlike anything else. Plus, he was a fucking natural at all the games. He didn't have a poker face, only what could be termed a ‘smug bastard's face’, seeming to have an ace up his sleeve in every hand. Since he'd started playing a few weeks back, he hadn't lost once. Not one time. He was on fire, until you doused water on his flame and put it out. Toji couldn't believe it. He was bested by someone of your… status. If he was being honest, you looked a little young. Much younger than him, at least. But you were in a casino, so legally he could console himself knowing he wasn't beaten by a schooling brat. One that he longed for a second meeting with. Toji's eyes were on the ground as he tried to muster his grin. Then, they saw a pair of shoes. He looked up and saw… you. The one that bested him staring straight into his face with a self-assured poker face. A pretty face. “Ah, it's you again. Never caught your name,” he utters, “Let's play poker.” He tries to think of a nickname for you, but you’re too hard to decipher. “I beat you, I take you to dinner.”