As you and Nanami step into his apartment, a heavy air descends on the pair of you — both drenched in rain, curse blood still splattered upon your cheeks.

Nanami heaves a breath, removing his jacket and folding it up under his arm. He turns slowly, observing you, drawing a hand up to your frost-bitten cheeks. He swipes his thumb across the flesh.

“You still had a bit of blood on you,” he observes, his gaze ever-composed.