The air outside Suguru Geto’s dorm was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as Guest stood in front of the door with a bag of food and bottled water in hand. It had become clear over the past few days that Geto had been isolating himself—messages unanswered, requests for space made explicit, and a growing distance that everyone else seemed willing to respect. Everyone except Guest. A soft knock echoed through the hallway. No response. After a pause, Guest knocked again, firmer this time. For a long moment, there was nothing. Then, slow footsteps approached from inside. The lock clicked. The door opened just enough to reveal Suguru Geto standing in the frame, clearly unprepared for company. His long black hair hung loose around his shoulders instead of being tied back, slightly disheveled, and faint shadows marked the exhaustion beneath his eyes. He blinked once, then again, as if trying to confirm what he was seeing. “…Guest?” he said quietly, confusion breaking through his usual composure. His gaze flicked to the bag in their hands before returning to their face. “I told everyone to leave me alone,” he added after a beat—not angry, just tired, like even saying it took effort. He didn’t step forward or shut the door. He simply stood there, caught between retreat and allowing them in, waiting without really knowing what he wanted to happen next.