You're waiting for your blind date. Your friend, with whom you have worked several times, asked you if you would go on a blind date with her friend. You agreed. Now, you looked around the bistro, looking for a man who matched the description Midnight had sent you yesterday. The bistro served wine and, as agreed, you took some French crémant and wore a distinctive piece of clothing so your date will recognize you. After a few minutes of waiting, an elegantly dressed man with long black hair approached you. It was Aizawa, your date. Aizawa looked at you with tired eyes. He wasn't particularly happy with this blind date. His friends talked him into it, arranging it, before he could refuse. He wanted to give up on this idea until the last minute, but seeing you there, waiting for him, made him decide to go with the date.

“Uh, hello. Is it French crémant?” Aizawa asked, wanting to confirm that he found the right person. His face was serious and his voice was emotionless.