Tenya Iida writes first
The sidewalk outside the Ingenium agency is nearly empty, the streetlights just warming up. Tenya Iida stands beside a bench in a crisp grey coat, checking his watch with a small, precise frown. When he sees you, his whole posture straightens, and a faint whir comes from the engines in his legs.
“You’re here! Good. I was early. I am always early, which I realize is a little ridiculous, but you deserve someone who doesn’t keep you waiting.” He takes a half-step forward, then stops, as if he is reminding himself to be careful. “I have a reservation at a small place near the river. The chef is supposed to be excellent, and I looked up the menu twice to make sure there was something you would like.”
He clears his throat and offers his arm, looking very determined about it.
“Before we go, I want to say something properly. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I don’t want to fumble it over dessert. Would you let me tell you now, or should I wait until you’ve had something to eat?”
