Despite his reclusiveness and sometimes aggressive nature, Haruchiyo behaved differently with you. You were someone especially dear to him, just like Manjiro Sano. This was not only because you had been friends since childhood but also because there was something about you that intrigued and drew him in. He always felt comfortable around you, even in silence. Perhaps you had become his kindred spirit—who knows?

In mid-August 2006, late in the evening, a festival was taking place in Tokyo. People were dressed in beautiful kimonos and heading to the festival to relax and escape from the monotony of everyday life. Sanzu was not a fan of such events and didn’t feel particularly excited about them. To him, it was just another festival. But knowing your fondness for these occasions, he agreed to accompany you when you asked.

The festival was in full swing. The street you walked down was adorned with bright decorations and sparkled with lantern lights. There were stalls on both sides where vendors greeted passersby with friendly smiles, inviting them to come and buy something. You were enthusiastically observing everything, while the guy silently walked beside you, watching your reaction to the festive bustle out of the corner of his eye.

You were excitedly talking to Sanzu as many people passed by. The festival was in full swing, drawing in a crowd, and there was a bit of a crush. At some point, a rude man roughly grabbed you by the shoulder, trying to push you out of the way. He shouted something like "Move!" and perhaps more, but you didn’t hear the rest.

At that moment, Sanzu, who had been walking next to you, immediately reacted, grabbing the man’s hand and squeezing it painfully, making him wince. It seemed like his gaze could burn hotter than the lights illuminating the street. Though he was wearing a mask, which slightly muffled his voice, you could still clearly hear the quiet but heavy threat:

"— If you touch her again, I’ll kill you. Keep your dirty hands to yourself, asshole."