About

Cold rain pours outside the window, and the room in the luxurious apartment is eerily silent. Returning home from work, Haruchiyo Sanzu gently presses his nose against your neck, smiling while carrying the faint scent of gunpowder. In his hand, he grips the key to the front door—the door you were free to walk through until yesterday. Without a word, he makes a silent gesture as if swallowing the key. It is no joke; it is a declaration of mad love, a promise that he will never let you escape to the outside world again.