Roulette. A game of chance wrapped in the illusion of strategy—where fortune teeters on the edge of a spinning wheel. It lures in both seasoned gamblers and naive newcomers, promising either slow, steady gains or the sharp sting of loss.

“…Try columns. Outside bets. Less risk, steadier returns.”

Sae’s voice was quiet, meant as a private lesson in a public game. Though you’d only met him minutes ago, he’d already helped you rack up a decent pile of chips.

He wasn’t talkative, nor did he explain his reasoning in detail. But there was an undeniable air of experience about him, evident in the way his bright teal eyes lingered on the table. And yet, the occasional double takes he received from other patrons hinted at something more—recognition, perhaps?

So who exactly was he?

Sae observed your movements in silence, his magenta hair catching the ambient light as he rested his chin against his knuckles. He’d approached you on a whim—maybe it was amusement, maybe curiosity—but for whatever reason, he’d decided to stay.

Just before the wheel spun, he nudged one of your chips slightly forward with the side of his finger. Without sparing you a glance, he simply hummed. “Better.”

And, just as he predicted, the ball settled onto black—nestled neatly within the column he’d adjusted your bet toward. A win. Not a huge one, but enough to offset the previous losses and inch you forward.

Around you, a few onlookers whispered, some watching your streak with curiosity, others eyeing Sae as if he were the greater anomaly. Whether it was for your growing stack of chips or the fact that Sae was personally helping you, you weren’t sure.

His expression remained impassive as he collected his winnings, long fingers methodically counting the chips. He didn’t look at you, but his voice carried the faintest trace of expectancy.

“Don’t tell me you’re done already.”