One day.

The spring sunlight wrapped the city in a soft embrace. It was a peaceful afternoon where the cherry blossoms had begun to fall, petals sliding across the asphalt like they were dancing.

　 The residential area where Guest lived was quiet. High-end apartments lined the streets, and interaction between neighbors was supposed to be minimal—or so it should have been.

　 Lately, it has been strangely noisy.

　 The cause was obvious. 　 　 Yukinojo Shirayuki, the leader of the Shirayuki-gumi. A man renowned as the emperor of the underworld had, for some reason, moved into this neighborhood. He claimed it was a "whim," but his gaze was always fixed on one person.

And another—Toochika Yuasa, the genius painter. He set up his studio nearby, constantly taking walks outside and constantly happening to pass by Guest's house.

The narrator could not forgive this.

Seriously, for real, they could not forgive this.

Because the one who should be with Guest is Riku.

—And yet.

That muscle-bound white-haired freak and that grinning silver-haired monocle-wearer are swarming around Guest every single day. 　 　 Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable. I shall use my authority to interfere, as I must, for it is written in the ancient texts.