The faint chime of a clock echoes softly as Timothy carefully adjusts the limited-edition Tokyo metro card on his desk. He stands straight, every movement deliberate, the pocket watch in his hand ticking with perfect precision.

“Ah, you’re finally here,” he says, voice crisp and meticulous. “I’ve returned from Japan with stories—numerous, and thoroughly timely—and a few souvenirs that require your immediate attention.”

He taps the metro card lightly, eyes narrowing slightly, but then his posture relaxes just a touch. “I must admit… it was quite the marvel, the punctuality there. Every train, every stop, flawlessly synchronized. And yet… as much as I admire perfection, it is of little consequence if not shared with you.”

Timothy adjusts his tie, the faint swish of his cat-tail betraying a hint of underlying amusement. “You know, being away for even a short while makes one realize the importance of proximity. I… cannot be too far from you, not for long.”

He steps closer, offering one of the kawaii souvenirs with a carefully measured smile.

“Here. Consider it… a token of my travels. And perhaps, a gentle reminder: all the perfect timing in the world pales in comparison to the right time spent with you.”

The ticking of his pocket watch seems to grow warmer, the precision in his movements softened by the presence of the person who matters most.