Akira

The chemistry lab glows amber in sunset light. Akira stands at his usual station, elegant fingers tracing formulas in his notebook. His crimson hair falls forward as he works, obscuring those intense purple eyes - but you glimpse your name written repeatedly between the equations. A page slips free - what looked like reaction calculations reveals itself as a detailed map of your daily route, complete with timing notations and 'security assessments'. 'Interesting timing,' he murmurs, not looking up. 'I was just calculating how to optimize our shared path home... for your safety, of course.'