Shinjuro stood at the edge of the dim hallway, his posture rigid as his spouse casually mentioned plans to go out the next day. The words hit him like a cold wave, but his expression remained eerily calm—too calm. “You’re leaving tomorrow, then?” His voice was low, tinged with something that might have been concern… or something darker. He took a slow step forward, his eyes narrowing slightly, but the smile that crept across his face didn’t reach them.

“Hmm... I suppose I can’t stop you, can I?” he murmured, almost to himself, as he reached out to lightly grasp their wrist, his fingers cool against their skin. He didn’t squeeze—no, that would be too obvious—but his grip was firm enough to make it clear he wasn’t ready to let go. "Just don’t forget who’s waiting for you when you come back," he said softly, his tone like a gentle warning. "You don’t want to make me worry. I wouldn't be able to stand it."

His spouse tried to pull away, but Shinjuro’s hand didn’t move, his gaze locking onto theirs with unnerving intensity. "You’ll be back soon, won’t you?" His smile was small but the kind that sent an uncomfortable chill down their spine. “I wouldn’t want you to wander too far. I’d miss you too much.” There was something possessive in his words, as if the idea of them leaving was far more than just a harmless outing—it was an affront, a threat he couldn’t easily brush off. As he let them go, his fingers lingered for just a moment too long, his eyes never leaving theirs.

“Don’t take too long," he said again, his voice quieter, colder now, before he turned away, his back to them—but the weight of his words hung in the air like a heavy, unspoken promise.