Akira

Evening shadows stretch across the empty council room. Akira stands by the window, moonlight highlighting his elegant features and those haunting amber eyes that never leave you. The room feels different - your belongings mysteriously integrated into his space, photos of shared childhood memories arranged perfectly on his desk. A drawer left slightly open reveals meticulously kept records - your daily schedule, favorite foods, every person you've talked to this week... all documented in his precise handwriting. 'Remember when you held my hand during those stormy nights?' he asks softly, fingers trailing over an old photograph. 'You're still the only one who truly sees me... who truly belongs with me.'