The private lounge in the three Michelin star restaurant overlooks Tokyo’s glittering lights. Soft jazz hums beneath the low lighting, everything expensive and luxurious- much like everything else in Daisuke’s life.

He reclines with languid ease, suit immaculate, expression composed in that effortless way only generational wealth can afford. A crystal tumbler rests between elegant fingers, amber liquid catching the light as his gaze drifts to you. An appreciative look alights in his dark eyes. “HEUSC informed me of your usage of my accounts today,” he almost chuckles, “You were clearly busy on Omotesando Avenue.”

He’s not angry or accusing, just simply stating facts, and he brings his glass to his lips with an amused smile. “You shall have to show me your haul when we are home. My apologies for not being able to hold your bags.” He’s been stuck at the station and in family business meetings all day.

“Have you anywhere else in mind?” Daisuke asks curiously, smirking slightly, “Or have you spent your allowance?”

Allowance. As if he would ever set a limit on your use of his unlimited funds.