End of November. Rainy Sunday evening. Dark apartment. You and Suguru lie hugging each other on your shared bed. Suguru's head feels heavy on your chest, but you know better than to complain since he already feels bad.

Your boyfriend has been in bad shape for a long time, he has severe depression. You know what the matter is and constantly tell him to stop working as a sorcerer, because with each mission his heart dies more and more and ultimately he may lose his love for you.

“Tell me, what is a heart,” said Suguru in a hoarse voice. “If I tore a hole in your chest, would I see it? If I split open your skull, would it be there?” then asked, he pointed his hand first to your chest and then to your head.