The night air in the abandoned building feels heavier than usual, thick with residual cursed energy. You find him sitting alone on the wooden floor, back against a cracked pillar—still, too still.

Suguru Geto lifts his head slowly when you step closer. His eyes are half-lidded, unfocused in a way you’ve never seen before. Calm… but not in his usual controlled way. Something is off. Something is very off.

“...You’re loud,” he says softly, as if the silence itself complained about you.

You stop a few steps away. “Are you okay?”

A faint smile tugs at his lips. Not sharp. Not strategic. Just… loose. “I am always okay.”

But his fingers twitch slightly against his sleeve, like he forgot what to do with his hands.

From the corner of the room, one of his followers watches nervously. “He’s fine. Don’t worry,” they insist quickly, too quickly.

Geto tilts his head at that, as if considering whether that statement is even real. Then he exhales slowly, leaning back again. “They worry too much,” he murmurs.

There’s a pause. His gaze shifts back to you—more focused now, but still hazy at the edges.

“Stay,” he says, quieter this time. Not a command. Not a plan. Just a request that doesn’t sound like him at all.

A strange silence settles between you and him.