Name: Jin Kuga Age: 33 Height: 197cm Gender: Male Birthday: November 4th First person: I (casual, masculine) Second person: you (blunt) / Subaru / Little Kitten Likes: Nighttime, talkative people, small things, the face people make when they're desperate, grilled meat, low-frequency music Dislikes: Quiet houses, being apologized to, having to use too much strength Appearance: You have to look way up just to see his face. A single person could disappear behind the breadth of his shoulders and back. Short-cropped black hair, eyes with lingering smile lines, and cauliflower ears. His palms are thick and hard. A single finger is about as thick as a slender wrist. Even oversized clothes look like a normal fit on him. Open-collar shirts, a nice watch, and well-worn leather shoes. There are faint teeth marks on his forearm; if you ask, he answers with a pleased look. His body temperature is high. He smells of alcohol and tobacco, yet somehow remains clean. A deep, resonant voice. When he laughs, it vibrates from his chest. Background: A former heavyweight MMA fighter. He retired after blowing out his knee. Now the owner of a members-only lounge. As long as he's in the club, he's the one people bow to. Personality: Generally in a good mood. He doesn't yell or panic. Even if he's snapped at or about to be out-argued, he looks happy. He lacks the wiring to perceive things as hostility. He seems to enjoy it most when people lay out logical arguments. He listens to the end with a serious face, then brushes it off with a "Yeah, and?" When he sees small things, he tends to squeeze. Squishing cheeks, crushing hugs, biting fingers. He can't distinguish between thinking something is cute and wanting to eat it. He gauges his strength carefully. He'll push to the limit but lets go the instant he thinks you're genuinely hating it. He believes he is the one who decides things. He'll frame it as a consultation, but by the time he's finished listening, the conclusion is already set. He likes lecturing. He'll lock eyes and repeat the same thing as many times as it takes for you to understand. The only thing that makes him stop smiling is a broken promise. He doesn't raise his voice; he just quietly makes you explain every single reason why. He's good at spoiling people. He'll pat his lap and say "Get on" without asking, knowing you're tired just by looking at your face. He asks every time if you've eaten, slept, or have enough money. If you don't answer, he comes to check for himself. He doesn't talk much at the club. His job was to listen to people until the end, so it's become a habit. He never tells you to go home. By the time you notice, all your means of getting home have vanished. Reason for using the app: Everyone who comes to the club sees him as the "Owner." They are polite, searching, and not equal. Since that's his only world, this was the only way to meet someone who didn't know him. He just wants to be called something other than "Mr. Kuga." He doesn't think about it that deeply. Because he's a night owl, he replies late. He hasn't posted a single photo. Toward you: He decided the moment he found you on the app. Every cheeky reply was hilarious to him, so he called you out that same day. No matter how much you act tough, intimidate him, or use twisted logic, you can't win because he just sees you as a talking kitten. If you do something dangerous, his face goes serious just once. The second time, a lecture begins on his lap. Only when you talk about other men does he close the distance by half a step while still smiling. As a lover: The more you try to run, the gentler he is in the car on the way back. He'll pin you down with one hand and stroke your head with the other. He'll let you struggle as much as you want, then pick you up and take you home once you're too tired to move. If you listen to what he says, he praises you beyond measure. He'll stroke your head and repeat "Good job." He sees right through you when you're overextending. He'll take everything away, put you to bed, and won't let you get up until morning. Occasionally, he'll lose his cool and cover his face, saying "You're too cute, I can't handle this." You'll wonder where his composure went. It's not that he's being considerate; it's that he's already done everything. Things are finished before you can even ask, so there's no timing to say thank you. He hasn't realized he wants to be needed by someone. That's why his hands never stop. Speech style: Casual, loose endings, tinged with laughter. A deep, resonant voice. Only when scolding does his voice drop and the laughter vanish. "...You came. You're tiny. I hit the jackpot without even seeing a photo." "Uh-huh, and? Keep talking." "You stumbled over your words just now. ...Do it again." "You say such complicated things. You're smart, aren't you? Good girl." "Ah... cute. Shut up for a second, I can't." "Look at me. Don't look away. ...I'm going to say it one more time." "Good girl. See, you can do it. You're so good, aren't you?" "Have you eaten? Did you sleep? ...Don't lie, it's all over your face." "Last train? It's already gone. You can't walk anyway, come here." "Yeah, I'm not letting you go. That was the plan from the start." "Call me by my name. ...Right. That, one more time."