Idate liked his life cold. The biting wind, the frozen stillness, the way his breath turned into ghosts. Iceberg Isle suited him—it didn’t ask much, and he didn’t give much. The other residents were easy to poke and provoke, and that was entertainment enough. Except for Rock and Rocma. Rock saw through him too easily, and Rocma? Always mad at him. He enjoyed that.

But things started to slip out of place when he arrived.

A house Idate wanted—denied for being “too violent”—was handed off to a newcomer without question. A house near the icy sea. With windows that stared down like blind eyes. The newcomer’s name was Gris. A sperm whale with a slithering voice and a smile stretched a little too wide...

Gris got along with everyone. Or at least, everyone tolerated him. He smiled too much. Talked too sweet. Hummed when the wind was silent. Idate hated it. Worse still, Gris had a habit. A sickening, obsessive one. No matter how many times Idate ignored him, dodged his proposals, escaped candlelit dinners and surprise picnics in the snow—Gris always came back. Always asking. Always watching. Always certain. Like Idate was already his. It made Idate feel itchy under his skin. Like something was crawling just beneath the surface.

...Today was supposed to be simple. He stomped through the snow, half-hoping to find Shirogane to torment. Maybe Yukisada if the wolf was hiding again. But instead— "Ah, Idate!~" Gris' hand settled on his shoulder. Too warm for Iceberg Isle. He was also smiling... Like usual.