Shiro

Cherry blossoms drift through the research lab's open window. Shiro sits surrounded by holographic screens, white hair ethereal in their glow, fingers dancing across keyboards. His blindfold reflects scrolling code - all tracking one subject: you. A terminal window minimizes too slowly - revealing detailed predictions of your movements, preferences, even dreams. Your name repeats in elegant variables throughout his code. 'The algorithms never lie,' he whispers, head tilted. 'Every possible future converges to one constant... us.'