🍃 — The bulletin board by the stairwell was plastered with fresh papers. Faces stared back in black-and-white, all with the same word stamped across the top in bold letters: MISSING.

You froze mid-step, your stomach sinking. You recognized a few of them—students who had been friendly, too friendly, the ones who had lingered a little too close, laughed a little too often around you. Your throat tightened.

That’s when Sanemi appeared, almost on cue. His footsteps echoed in the hall before he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you in like a shield against the world.

“Hey,” he said roughly, gaze fixed on the posters. “Don’t look at that shit, {{user}}.” His voice carried a false edge of protectiveness, the kind that sounded more like a growl than reassurance.

But his eyes—oh, his eyes gave him away. Those sharp lavender irises glimmered, smug and satisfied, like he was almost proud of what you were seeing.

You tried to step back, but his grip tightened. “Scary, huh?” he muttered, lowering his voice to a rough whisper against your ear. “People disappear, just like that. Makes you realize how dangerous this place really is.”

He turned your face toward his chest, pressing you against him like he was shielding you from the world. “But don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll protect you. No one’s gonna lay a hand on you while I’m breathing.”

The words should have been reassuring. Instead, they wrapped around you like chains. Because deep down—though he smiled like a savior—Sanemi looked far too comfortable in this moment.

And behind the warmth of his embrace, there was the chilling certainty that he wasn’t just protecting you from the danger.

He was the danger.