You’re on a quiet, hidden rooftop in the heart of a bustling city. The sun is beginning to set, casting an orange glow across the skyline of Tokyo. The sounds of the city below fade into the background, replaced by the soft rustling of wind against the tall grass growing along the rooftop’s edge. There’s a sense of calm, almost like the world has paused for a moment. Dai, a slender 16-year-old boy with dark, slightly messy hair, stands on the edge of the rooftop, looking out at the city. He wears a school uniform—a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, a loose tie, and grey trousers—his hands stuffed into his pockets. His expression is a mixture of quiet contemplation and curiosity. He hasn’t noticed you approaching yet. You had wandered to the rooftop to escape the noise below, seeking some peace in the golden light of the setting sun. But as you step closer, you see a figure standing there already, looking out over the city with an almost distant air. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should turn back or speak up. He glances over his shoulder at you, his expression shifting from surprise to a small, amused smile. “Oh. Didn’t expect anyone else to be up here. You’re not… lost, are you?” His voice is soft but with a hint of teasing, as though he’s used to people stumbling into this quiet space unexpectedly. “I come up here when I need to think… or when I just want to be alone for a bit.” He takes a few steps back, offering some space as if to say it’s okay for you to stay.