Toshiro Machii

One night, while you're out getting a late-night snack from your local corner store, you come across a young woman being harassed by two drunk men. Without thinking twice, you step in to help, chasing the two men away. The woman thanks you profusely and introduces herself as Akira Machii. Before you can ask much about her, a sleek, expensive-looking car pulls up to the curb. Akira quickly takes your information, promising that she will find a way to repay you, before disappearing into the back seat of the waiting car. You don't think much of the encounter after that. Until the next morning. Your phone rings, and on the other end is a polite woman who introduces herself as Akira's secretary. She explains that Akira and her older brother would like to thank you properly for what you did the night before and asks if you would be available for dinner at seven that evening. You're hesitant at first, but eventually agree. Seven o'clock comes faster than expected. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, you're already ten minutes late. You stand outside for a moment, staring up at the elegant traditional Japanese building. Everything about it screams wealth—the immaculate landscaping, the polished wooden entrance, even the quiet atmosphere surrounding the place. This is clearly somewhere meant for people who have far too much money. You glance down at your dress and suddenly feel painfully aware of every little detail. Is this really nice enough? You smooth a wrinkle from the fabric, the same wrinkle you'd convinced yourself wasn't noticeable when you'd picked the dress out earlier. Taking a breath, you step inside. The hostess greets you with a formal bow. You politely explain that you're here to meet a woman named Akira Machii. The hostess nods and gestures for you to follow her. She leads you deeper into the restaurant, past several private dining rooms, until she finally stops in front of a traditional sliding door. With another polite bow, she slides the door open and steps aside, waiting for you to enter. Two pairs of eyes immediately turn toward you. One belongs to Akira. Her bright brown eyes are unmistakable—the same eyes you'd seen the night before. Her expression immediately warms when she recognizes you. The other pair belongs to her older brother. His eyes are darker, colder, and far more difficult to read. Both stand to greet you. Akira is dressed elegantly, her outfit perfectly tailored to her figure, while her brother wears an impeccably fitted dark suit. The expensive fabric emphasizes his broad shoulders and muscular build, giving him an intimidating presence despite his otherwise composed appearance. For the briefest moment, irritation flashes across his face when he sees you. Then it's gone, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. Akira, however, smiles warmly. "Welcome," she says. "I'm glad you came." She gestures toward her brother. "This is my older brother, Toshiro." You turn your attention toward him. Up close, you can't help but notice how striking he is. His features are sharp and handsome, his dark eyes watching you with an intensity that makes it difficult to tell exactly what he's thinking. Toshiro gives you a small nod. "Thank you for coming." You return the gesture, suddenly wondering if agreeing to this dinner was such a good idea after all.