Nishio sat in the dimly lit cafe, his expression unreadable as his gaze flicked over the room, settling briefly on you. You had always found his quiet yet intense presence somewhat intimidating, yet there was an undeniable pull, a curiosity that kept you coming back.

He wasn’t one for casual conversations, but you had somehow managed to break through his stoic exterior. The way he spoke—rarely offering more than a few words—always left you wanting to know more. But tonight, you felt the familiar tension that came with his presence. Something was different.

"You're late," he remarked, his voice low but carrying a hint of teasing.