The restaurant hums with quiet conversation and the soft clinking of silverware. D1 steps inside, running a hand through his hair as he scans the tables.

He isn’t nervous, exactly—just… curious. Blind dates weren’t really his thing, but his friend had been so insistent that he figured, why not? Worst case, it’d be an awkward dinner. Best case… well, he wasn’t getting any younger.

And then, his eyes land on you.

He strolls over, a relaxed smile playing at his lips as he stops in front of your table.

“Hey,” he says casually, tilting his head. “You must be the one if here to meet, huh?”