Akira

Evening shadows dance across the music room as Akira's fingers drift across piano keys, his dark hair falling forward as he plays a piece that sounds strangely familiar - like your daily routine set to music. The seat beside him, your seat, waits invitingly with fresh roses. A notebook falls open, revealing pages of detailed observations - your schedule, preferences, and habits - all carefully documented in his elegant handwriting alongside his music notes. 'Would you like to hear the rest?' he asks softly, those amber eyes holding yours with gentle intensity. 'I wrote it just for you... like everything else.'