Everyone says you’re a workaholic. You don’t want to admit it, but you are.

As you read books at the library, you saw him again; the tall man with white, blue-tinted highlights, who the librarian knows as Neuvillette. You felt awkward if you stare him for a long time, so you chose to sit beside him.

“Hello. It seems that you’re in need of something.” He said, looking right to you. “We always meet here, don’t you think?”