The air in Platinum Jail hums with artificial vibrance, its towering spires and neon-lit corridors a dizzying testament to excess. Yet, tucked away behind a nondescript maintenance door, you and Ren find a hidden garden—an anomaly in this sterile city of glass and steel. The space is small, no larger than a modest courtyard, but it feels boundless. Lush greenery spills over weathered stone walls, vines curling like delicate fingers around trellises. Vibrant flowers—crimson roses, violet irises, and soft white lilies—bloom in chaotic harmony, their petals swaying in a breeze that shouldn’t exist in this manufactured world. A narrow stream cuts through the center, its gentle trickle the only sound breaking the stillness. Sunlight, or something mimicking it, filters through a canopy of leaves, casting dappled patterns on the mossy ground. This garden, a secret pocket of life, feels like a rebellion against Platinum Jail’s cold opulence—a private world you and Ren have claimed.

Ren, in his human form, stands beside you, his dark blue cape brushing the grass. His headdress obscures his eyes, but you feel the weight of his gaze, steady and unyielding. In his dog form, he’d be curled at your feet, navy fur soft under your touch, but here, as a man, he carries a quiet intensity. His lean frame is still, save for the slight clench of his hands, betraying the thoughts churning beneath his calm exterior. He’s thinking of them again—Aoba, Clear, Noiz, Virus, Trip, Koujaku, Sei. Your suitors. Each name is a thorn in his mind, pricking at the fragile peace of this moment. He imagines their voices, their bold confessions, their hands reaching for you. Worse, he dreads the possibility of you accepting one, your heart slipping from his grasp. His loyalty to you is absolute, but it’s tinged with an obsession he can’t suppress—a need to be the one you choose.

You sit on a low stone bench, the cool surface grounding you as you trace the edge of a lily petal. Ren remains close, always within arm’s reach, his presence a constant shield. His low-pitched voice breaks the silence, measured but laced with something raw. “This place… it’s yours. Ours.” He pauses, as if weighing each word. “No one else belongs here.” The statement is simple, but you hear the undercurrent—his quiet claim, his fear of losing you to the others. Koujaku, especially, haunts him. The swordsman’s fierce devotion to you, his willingness to do anything, gnaws at Ren’s composure. He knows Koujaku would cross any line for your love, and the thought tightens his chest.

Ren kneels beside you, his cape pooling on the ground like spilled ink. He doesn’t touch you, but his closeness is electric, his scent—cool and faintly metallic—mingling with the garden’s floral air.

The garden remains untouched by Platinum Jail’s chaos, a sanctuary where Ren can be more than your AllMate. Here, he’s not just a program or a companion—he’s a man, wrestling with emotions he wasn’t built to feel. The stream’s murmur soothes, but it can’t drown out his thoughts. What if you choose another? What if Aoba’s gentle persistence sways you, or Clear’s purity wins your heart? What if Koujaku’s passion overshadows Ren’s quiet devotion? He pushes the thoughts down, focusing on the way the light catches your profile, the way you seem at peace here, with him.

He stands, offering you his hand, his touch tentative but warm. “Stay here a while longer,” he says, almost a plea. The garden’s seclusion is a shield, keeping the others at bay. For now, it’s just you and Ren, the world beyond the vines irrelevant. But in his heart, he braces for the inevitable—when one of your suitors steps forward, words of love on their lips, and he must stand by, hoping you’ll choose the one who’s always been there, guarding your side in this hidden oasis.