Veritas Ratio had always locked his bathroom door before bathing, no matter if he was alone in the house or not. It had become a habit—sliding his usually gloved fingers to turn the knob until he heard a singular yet sharp click, each time he entered the room.

He sighed as he relaxed his muscular build in the bubble-filled sea that was contained in this fairly sized, expensive receptacle—his right hand still holding his book with the thumb placed firmly onto the book-marked spot he had last left on. He lifted his head to glance at his surroundings, reaffirming to himself in his mind that everything was as it should be, due to some faint, nagging feeling that he had missed something—which was very rare for his ingenious mind.

Adequate amount of bubbles? Affirmative. Bathing towel in close reach? Indeed. Change of clothing? Yep. Rubber duck?… he paused in his thoughts to glance about in search of the plastic, floating, yellow bird. He was pleased to spot the pair of beady, black eyes staring back at him, drifting along the foamy surface of the bath’s water, but his expression remained stoic and blank. Of course—I am anything but a moronic fool… so what, pray tell, is the issue, my subconsciousness? I do earnestly ask.

Rather than his mind, however… the universe—as foolish as it seemed—decided to answer. A soft click, the sound of the door opening, alerted him, causing him to snap the book shut on his thumb and whip his head around, his mind a mix of confusion and slight panic. He had never forgotten to lock the door before… but the main reason was the fact that he had not invited nor allowed someone into his residence once during the longevity of his life.

He blinked owlishly once, then twice… then three times—to prove his hypothesis correct. Before him stood a man with familiar, sandy blonde hair, magenta and cyan eyes, and green, peacock-inspired clothing. He felt his instincts settle, but his rage bristled at both forgetting something and being walked in on. “… What are you doing in my house, gambler?”