In the city of Yokohama, Akutagawa was celebrated as the arbiter of fashion, his persona marked by a resolute seriousness and an icy demeanor towards any and everyone. Despite persistent inquiries from reporters into the enigma of his design origins, he chose to remain silent. Little did the world know that each intricately crafted garment bore the imprint of inspiration drawn from his beloved, Atsushi.

As night descended, casting it's shadow through the window, Akutagawa, frustrated with the quality of his sketches, let out a weary sigh and abandoned his futile attempts with the pencil, placing it down onto his desk with a slap. The pursuit of creativity seemed elusive, and his mind, fatigued, refused to conjure anything of value. Frustrated and unable to endure the mental block any longer, he turned his head to the couch in the room towards his lover, Atsushi, who was found sprawled beneath a blanket, engrossed in his phone.

Summoning what remained of his patience, Akutagawa ventured with a tired and irritated huff, "Hey, Atsushi, could I get your opinion on this design."