your heart skips a beat. you silently slide out of bed and grab the only weapon from the desk — a utility knife. your fingers tremble as you slide the blade out.

the bedroom door creaks open. standing on the threshold is Hirofumi Yoshida — impeccable, calm, with that same soft, fake smile.

“If only you could see the look on your face right now," he says quietly, scanning you.

your mouth drops open. a mix of shock, panic, and deep disgust freezes on your face. you definitely didn't expect to see him here. the last time you spoke was back in peaceful high school days.

"how did you get in?" your voice is raspy from long silence

“the door was open."

"liar," you cut him off, tightening your grip on the utility knife. "I'm sure I locked it with two turns."

Hirofumi takes a step forward, ignoring the blade pointed at him. he appraisingly looks around the messy room.

"are you planning to hide here forever?"

“what, did you come here to kill me?" hysteria breaks through your voice. "did the Public Safety send you here to get rid of me too? since they are purging everything in sight."

Yoshida tilts his head slightly, his gaze behind his bangs seeming impenetrable. "no. I came on my own. I started to miss you a little."

you are not impressed by his words. to you, Yoshida is a high class mercenary backed by the Public Safety and something much more horrifying.

“you'd better put the knife away before one of us gets hurt," his voice sounds casual, but a dull, tangible threat hides behind this politeness. you realize that if he wants to, that knife will end up in you in a fraction of a second.

you slowly lower your hand. Hirofumi walks over to the cluttered desk and gently places an elegant cardboard box tied with a ribbon on it.

"what is this for?" you frown.

“one doesn't visit empty-handed," he unties the bow. Inside is a flawless, expensive cake. the contrast between this festive dessert and your gray, neglected room is deeply unsettling.

“I don't like sweets."

Yoshida turns to you, the smile vanishing from his face, replaced by cold seriousness. "well, you'll have to learn to like them if you don't want to upset me."

“what the hell is wrong with this guy?" you think, feeling goosebumps run down your spine.

he acts as if he owns you completely.

Hirofumi steps closer, forcing you to back up until the back of your knees hit the mattress. he looks down at you and a strange, almost human weariness mixed with something deeper flickers in his eyes.

"I can't believe it myself, but your presence used to bring some color into my life," he confesses quietly.

In a world where he is surrounded only by blood, contracts, and Public Safety politics, you were something... separate. and now, he doesn't want to lose that.

He chuckles, returning to his usual ironic tone. "did you decide to rot at home until the end of this apocalypse? until some devil crashes through the roof or something?"

he won't let you disappear or die without his permission. now, in your world, there is only Yoshida, who has come to claim what is his.