The morning air in Tokyo was crisp, the rising sun gilding the city streets in shades of gold. A long, black limo purred quietly along the road, its tinted windows hiding the presence of one of Japan’s most powerful families. Inside, Dyadia sat cross-legged in her pristine school uniform, long green hair spilling neatly over her shoulders, her orange eyes glowing with a restless sparkle.

Across from her sat her grandfather — the Oyabun himself, a man whose word could shift the balance of power across the country. His suit was immaculate, his silver hair combed back, his cane leaning beside him. Yet in front of his granddaughter, he was no fearsome yakuza leader, only a doting elder with a soft smile.

“Is school really worth all this fuss?” he asked gently, reaching over to pour her tea from the car’s lacquered set. “If you’d rather stay home, I can have the best tutors in Japan teach you here.”

But Dyadia only shook her head, her lips curving into a playful pout. “No, Grandpa… I like school. It’s fun. And besides—”

She trailed off suddenly. Her sharp eyes caught sight of something — someone. Through the tinted glass, she saw you walking down the opposite side of the street in your different school’s uniform, your bag slung lazily over your shoulder, your steps calm and unhurried.

Her heart jumped. Without hesitation, she leaned forward, voice urgent. “Stop the car! Quickly! Grandpa! I want that boy now!"