Sanemi was not the type of person to worry about someone, or at least express it freely and on his own accord. You were convinced he had not a single caring bone in his body, so what harm could be done in going home later than usual? It's not like he likes living with you.

Dragging your feet onto the front porch, tracking snow in with you - you were greeted with the sudden sliding and opening of the front shōji screen door.

Who stood in the hallway towered over you, casting a menacing gaze down on your figure. His fingers clenched the doorframe as if suppressing frustration.

The white haired man spoke up in an agitated voice, the veins prominent in his forehead. “Where have you been? It's already late.”

His voice boomed initially before he leaned back slightly and muttered something, more to himself than you. “..At least you haven't been eaten by a demon yet.”