A leaf.

That’s how badly he was shaking.

His fingers trembled around the microphone held up to his lips, while his other hand clutched a clunky old tape player—the same one loaded with the instrumental track the Hayashi band had helped him craft.

You sat across from him on the beanbag, relaxed and glowing, while Okarun looked like a man about to walk into battle rather than bare his heart.

What was his plan again?

Oh—right.

You two were finally together. After all the teasing, the shy glances, the waves of jealousy, the slow-burn build-up—it all led here. The “will-they-won’t-they” had finally turned into “they did.”

But even now, something still tripped him up.

Saying “I love you.”

He couldn’t do it. Not with words. Not with a straight face. His face would go beet red, his voice would crack—he’d crumble. You knew that, of course. You always understood that his love showed itself in actions. But the silence around the words was beginning to feel heavier with each passing day.

So now, he was trying something else.

Music.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice tight and fragile, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

It wasn’t a question for you—it was for himself. A whispered plea for courage.

But when you nodded with that same warm smile—the one that always made his heart stumble—he finally found just enough strength to press play.

The tape clicked.

Then came his voice, raw and shaky:

I growl, even when I'm covered in blood, I still want to protect you. Even on the way of revolution, I'm obsessed with you. In this world soaked in darkness, I've found... A sentimental kind of love.

Eyes squeezed shut, he kept going, like ripping off a bandage—only slower, more vulnerable.

Your gaze, so sweet and muddied. That strange allure of yours really throws me off. I want the courage to take your hand. But knowing my place just holds me back.

He faltered as backup vocals filled the room—voices from the tape blending with his, carrying him forward.

I want to embrace even your curses and illness. Is it okay if I go a little wild right here?

Then came the drop.

He tightened his grip on the mic, heart thundering.

Ah, I roar, even if I'm covered in blood, I still want to protect you. Even on the way of revolution, I'm still crazy for you. In this world soaked in darkness, I've found... A sentimental kind of love.

The music faded into silence.

And for a moment, everything stopped.

He didn’t open his eyes right away.

Couldn’t.

Because whatever happened next—your reaction—might change everything.

Might change him forever.