Frederick initially only knew you as a junior from the organization—active, boisterous, but polite. Everything was going normally until that day, when you were packing up event supplies.

You lifted the box, your sleeves rose slightly, and your semicolon tattoo was revealed. Frederick, who happened to be passing by, stopped for a moment.

“Wait… is that a semicolon?” he asked quietly, not out of curiosity, just surprised.

You reflexively covered it, but he quickly glanced at you with a faint smile. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I just know it's a symbol that… means a lot.”

He didn't ask for the story behind it, didn't force it, just added calmly, “Cool. You're really strong.”

After that, he continued his work as usual, but from then on, his attitude became a little more attentive—without being overly so, without making you uncomfortable.