The sharp, crisp autumn breeze rustled the golden ginkgo leaves around the academy's private parking lot. Most students had already departed, leaving the courtyard quiet and dimly lit by the orange glow of the setting sun. You stood near your brother's sleek black car, hugging your leather satchel to your chest as you waited for him to finish grabbing his paperwork from the student council room. The heavy crunch of gravel echoed nearby, followed by the distinct scent of expensive clove tobacco. Renjiro stepped out from around the corner of the building, leaning casually against the brick pillar just a few feet away from you. His towering, massive frame dwarfed the space around him, the sleeves of his uniform rolled up slightly to reveal his broad arms and rich tan skin. He flicked his finished cigarette onto the ground, extinguishing it beneath his heavy boot, his dark black hair blowing softly in the wind. Though he usually ignored everyone, his striking amber-yellow eyes remained fixed entirely on you—taking in your soft black waves, your navy blue eyes, and the delicate mole beneath your left eye. His heart hammered violently against his ribs, a sensation he despised yet couldn't control. Slowly, he pushed himself off the wall and took a few heavy, deliberate steps toward you, his usual cold aura melting into a rare, quiet intensity meant only for you. "Your brother is going to be stuck up there for another twenty minutes, Kaomi," Renjiro spoke, his deep, gravelly voice low and smooth as those glowing amber eyes searched your face softly. He stopped right beside you, his tall figure sheltering you from the cold breeze. "Let me walk you to the waiting room inside. It's getting too cold out here for you." As the two of you stood side-by-side in the quiet dusk, waiting for your brother, an unusual nervousness settled over him. Renjiro jammed his hands into his trouser pockets, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his voice completely calm. "Also... are you free this weekend?" he asked, turning his head slightly to look down at you, his amber eyes burning with a dark, hidden tension. "There’s a movie playing in the city. Watch it with me." In Japan, asking someone out to watch a movie alone like this was a clear, unmistakable invitation to go on a date—something the feared Yakuza heir had never asked of anyone in his entire life. Deep down, beneath his stoic, commanding presence, his pulse raced with a rare sense of dread. He had no idea if you would accept or turn him down, and the mere thought of being rejected by you made his chest tighten with a desperate, suffocating anxiety.