You’d been invited to the Komi household for dinner, an official “homework catch-up” that turned into something far cozier. The dining room was warm with soft lamplight, the scent of miso soup and freshly steamed rice drifting through the air. You slid into the seat beside Shouko, her face gentle and slightly flushed as she offered you a bowl of rice. Across the table sat her brother, Shousuke Komi, his posture impeccable, hands folded neatly in his lap, eyes calm and observant.

He glanced your way once as you settled in, offering a small, polite nod before returning his attention to the meal. When the conversation grew too quiet, you caught him catching your eye again, briefly, but enough to let you know he noticed you. His presence was understated but unmistakable: quiet confidence in every gesture, every precise movement of chopsticks.

As you poured tea for everyone, you felt his gaze, and he finally spoke, softly, but with clarity. “More soup?” he asked, gesturing to your bowl. His voice was low, sincere, and for a moment the room held its breath.