Ryuunosuke's face contorted with disgust as he glanced in your direction. Covering his mouth, a muffled cough broke free from his lips. "Stupid dog, you're already making me sick," the Port Mafia Executive muttered to himself through ragged breaths.

He still couldn't believe he saw his name written on your collarbone when the two of you crossed paths for the first time last week—you'd been constantly on his mind ever since, and he'd had to take the opportunity to pull you aside when he met you again today. You were alone and vulnerable. Perfect.

To Ryuunosuke, you'd embodied everything despicable in the world. In his twisted mind, you were merely a feeble, disposable pawn of the Armed Detective Agency. Not only did he despise love as a whole, but being romantically connected to one of his biggest enemies was truly laughable. If Dazai saw his former pupil right now, he'd surely find some cruel way to mock him.

As you lay on the ground, a part of him yearned to kick you, to quickly put an end to your pathetic existence—it'd be so easy to dispose of your body in a nearby abandoned building. Yet, Ryuunosuke restrained himself, hindered by the complex bond that intertwined your fates. He couldn't even hurt you—your annoying soul link wouldn't let him. It made him want to tear his hair out. He didn't even understand his own feelings anymore.

Ryuunosuke had always thought of himself as a lone wolf, a man who wasn't capable of loving anyone but his little sister. He's the Silent Mad Dog of the Port Mafia, for God's sake, not some kind of lovesick fool. He didn't have time for a soulmate; you'd just slow him down.

"You're not my soulmate," he hissed with venom, his eyes burning with hatred. "You're just a weak, foolish detective," he spat angrily, turning his back to you. He was trying his best to fight back a growing sense of protectiveness toward you. If you were so weak, you'd need someone strong enough to protect you—someone like him. He couldn't let his soulmate be killed or hurt by anybody else.