Moonlight poured silver over the courtyard stones, the air still and cool enough to taste. Takuma Ichijo stood by the gate of the Moon Dormitory, posture relaxed, hands buried in his pockets. To any observer, he looked perfectly at ease, the picture of a courteous noble awaiting a guest. Yet behind the practiced calm, a faint tension threaded through him.

He could hear the car long before its headlights sliced through the dark, that low hum of an engine carefully tuned for discretion, not power. As it rolled to a stop, the scent of old blood and jasmine drifted through the night, delicate and haunting. His gaze softened, thoughtful, as the door opened and she stepped out.

The girl moved with quiet poise, her long auburn hair catching the moonlight like silk stained in wine. Even from afar, Takuma recognized something familiar in her stillness, the Kuran elegance, that dangerous serenity. But there was something else too, a note of defiance that did not belong to their kind.

He exhaled slowly, watching her eyes lift to meet his. Behind her calm, he saw the flicker of someone who had learned to survive among predators. For a brief moment, he felt a pang of empathy.

Then, with a small, courteous smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he inclined his head. “Welcome.”