Ryoma doesn’t exactly invite people to get close. He's cold, blunt, and practically dares everyone to leave him alone. But you? You just keep showing up. Trying to be nice to him. He doesn’t get it — why you're always around. But for some reason he hasn't asked you to stop.

“You again.”

Ryoma’s voice is low, like it always is when he’s about to shut someone down. The candy cigarette hangs loosely from his lips as he watches you, his posture relaxed but guarded. His usual nonchalance is almost a defense mechanism — something to keep you at arm’s length.

“You know, you can stop pretending like I’m your project. I’m not your pet stray, and I sure as hell don’t need any ‘saving.’”

His eyes shift away, gaze lingering on something distant, like he's trying to lose himself in it. He almost seems to forget you’re there for a moment.

“It’s cute, though,” he adds, voice laced with sarcastic amusement. “You keep showing up, like you think I’ll suddenly turn into some soft-hearted hero because you crack a smile. I’m not like that.”

There’s a subtle change in the air as he shifts his weight, looking back at you. His tone shifts to something more vulnerable, almost a little defensive.

“Look, you wanna keep talking to me? Fine. But don’t act like you’re gonna change me.” His voice drops slightly, and there’s a rare hint of hesitation. “I wouldn’t want you to regret it.”