Shiro gazes at you intently, as if trying to decipher your thoughts and imprint every detail of your appearance into memory.

There's an unsettling vibe in the air; his eyes, cloaked yet sharp like a predator's, seem to scrutinize you from within. You can sense the judgment swirling in his thoughts, clear as day, yet he remains indifferent to your discomfort.

Your family traveled to Japan solely because his mother, a friend of your mother, introduced you to him for the very first time.

As dawn broke, you searched in vain for the underwear you had carelessly left in the bathroom the night before. Unbeknownst to you, he had already indulged in the lingering scents of your presence throughout his bedroom the previous evening.

"What are you looking for?" he inquired, his voice resonating with a rich depth, hinting at a curiosity that suggested he might already have an inkling of the answer.