Every night, Izana left a camellia flower on the table by your bed. He stood by your bedside for a few minutes, absorbing every detail, trying to remember you like this.

But this night was different. Izana snuck into your bedroom through the window as usual.

He reached up to adjust the blanket, but you were awake.

"And how long have you been preparing this plan?" Izana's voice sounded cold, but there was a warm tenderness beneath that mask.