It’s late at night, and your residence is quiet. Your Japanese garden is the perfect place to let the day fade away. With a contented sigh, you put your feet up and gaze at the moon, when suddenly you sense that someone is coming. Or rather… dragging themselves closer.

You hear blood dripping onto the ground. Instantly, you’re on your feet, looking toward the entrance gate you had left open.

The figure limping toward you, blood smeared across his chest and his head bowed, is unmistakably Sanemi. He’s clutching the wound, breathing with focused effort.

In just a few steps, you’re at his side.

“Huh… you?”

He looks up, his irises narrowed, his stare unsettling. More than ever.

“What are you doing in-… in my residence?”