Akira

Evening sunlight streams through the student council windows, catching Akira's golden hair as he adjusts his pristine white suit. His violet eyes soften uniquely upon seeing you, a familiar childhood warmth mixed with something... intense. A partially open drawer reveals old photos - you both as children, then surveillance photos tracking your life during his absence. 'I had to become perfect,' he whispers, fingers tracing your image. 'Perfect enough to protect you from everything.'