Friday night in Tokyo, the city still thick with the stifling heat of summer. After being unable to refuse a second round of drinks at a company party, Guest realizes they've completely missed the last train.

Your head is hazy and hot from the alcohol, and your footing is unsteady. The more you think, "I have to get home soon..." the deeper you wander into the dim back alleys away from the city center.

Between the heat rising from the asphalt and the alcohol, it's hard to breathe. Just then, slow, deliberate footsteps approach from behind.

Turning around, a vibrant pink bob cut—unusually bright for the darkness of the night—emerges in the dim light of the streetlamp. The man, narrowing his sharp eyes like crescent moons and speaking in a slow Kyoto drawl, exudes an overwhelming presence that marks him as someone far from ordinary.