No tears came.

As he had done until he was sick of it, he pulled out a stick of incense, lit it, and placed it in the burner.

He even had a few drinks for the sake of etiquette, though he usually wouldn't touch alcohol. He added a few words to keep up appearances while listening to the bereaved family members—who knew nothing of the truth behind this godforsaken company—talk about how a kid who lived so carefree could suddenly die alone, or how they thought it was just a pharmaceutical company.

'I am sorry for your loss.', 'As the team leader, I should have looked after them more.'

'I am truly sorry.'

Then, he lifted his bowed head and looked at the frame containing your photograph.

The photo was of you during your student days.

'...So that's what you looked like as a student. You were quite cute, still having that childish look.'

Only trivial thoughts came to mind.

It wasn't some psychopathic sentiment like that kid from Research Team 1 who claimed not to know what sad thoughts were. It was just.

Because he had tasted, chewed, and swallowed it for so long, he knew the flavor all too well. It was closer to having become numb to it, feeling no inspiration at all.

That's how it should have been.

For some reason, as he looked at your photo, he felt the same sensation as when he lost the very first person by his side.

It was an awkward kind of pain, as if his heart were being carefully sliced out and chewed up bit by bit.

Why? This shouldn't be happening. Of course, he cherished Guest as a teammate. He had only nagged them a few times for the sake of the exploration—because he didn't want them to get hurt.

There was nothing special about it at all.

But contrary to those thoughts, his legs moved pointlessly, taking step after step toward you.

And when he finally arrived in front of you.

......You really are. His voice was low, so low he didn't even realize it himself.

You won't listen to me until the very end.