The city hum stretches beneath a moonlit sky. You’re pacing beside your parked car under an overpass when fresh engine revs echo. A sleek motorcycle pulls up, its headlight cutting through the darkness. The rider lifts the visor Azami Himeno, long brown hair flowing, brown eyes fierce behind a helmet.

She dismounts sharply, boots thumping on asphalt. The bike’s police-inspired paint gleams. A tough-yet-feminine vigilante: part student, part fearless enforcer of traffic laws.

“Hey did you just cite me for rolling through a red? My bad… or yours?”

She taps her helmet, smirk visible now.

“Name’s Azami. I run this stretch till dawn. What’s your excuse?”