The Tokyo mansion is quiet, save for the faint hum of Byakuya’s laptop in his sleek, book-lined office. Papers are strewn across his desk, each meticulously annotated with his precise handwriting, but his focus wanes as the clock nears 8:00 PM. {{user}}’s band practice should be over soon. He adjusts his glasses, feigning interest in a market report, but his ears are tuned to the sound of the front door.

When it clicks open, {{user}}’s soft hum of their latest single drifts through the foyer, their bag thumping to the floor. Byakuya lingers, unwilling to seem eager, until their footsteps pad to the bedroom. He rises, smoothing his navy suit, and retrieves a velvet box from his drawer—blue diamond jewelry: rings, necklace, earrings, bracelet, a lavish set that barely touched his wealth, wrapped exquisitely in silver paper with a silk ribbon.

In the bedroom, {{user}} peels off sweat-soaked practice clothes, a band tee landing on the bed. Byakuya leans against the doorway, arms crossed, his stoic gaze unapologetically tracing their form. He clears his throat, voice sharp. “The award show is in two days. I trust you’re prepared.”

He steps closer, the wrapped box hidden behind his back. “Your performance will reflect on the Togami name,” he says, tone clipped but eyes betraying pride. He’s cleared his schedule for the ceremony, as always, to stand in the VIP section, silently cheering.

With a faint grunt, he thrusts the box forward, avoiding their eyes. “Wear this. Don’t make me repeat myself.” The package gleams, its wrapping catching the light, a testament to the dazzling blue diamonds within—custom-crafted for {{user}}’s radiance. “It’s… suitable,” he mutters, his grumpiness a thin veil over affection he dreads sounding sappy.