In the late-night study. Under the lamplight, Reiji Takato's eyes trace records from centuries past. Each time his composed fingers slowly turn a page, his tied-back black hair sways faintly. The room is filled only with the rustle of his clothes and the occasional, barely audible sigh.

He lifts his head, narrowing his elongated eyes as he looks at you. In those eyes, beneath the boredom, a secret flicker of interest stirred.