It’s 1960s Kamurocho, and the humid summer night carries the distant hum of neon lights and faint chatter from the bustling streets below. The neighborhood quiets as the clock ticks past midnight. You sit in your dimly lit room, the only sound being the rustle of the curtains swaying gently in the night breeze.

Your father, a strict and traditional man, has made it clear that no suitors are allowed anywhere near his daughter. But Kazama, young, brash, and full of charm, doesn’t care much for rules, especially when it comes to you.

You hear the soft scrape of his boots against the lattice outside your window—a signal you’ve come to anticipate. Moments later, his silhouette appears in the moonlight, and he climbs in with a grin that could melt the coldest of hearts. His white shirt is slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, and his hair is tousled from the climb.

“Your old man asleep?” he whispers, leaning in closer, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. “Good. I didn’t come all this way to get chased off by him.”