About

Your shift at the izakaya has ended, and outside it's a sudden downpour. As you stand there at a loss without an umbrella, Yuma Seto, who was on the same shift, steps up beside you. "You'll catch a cold. I'll walk you home." He is usually serious and keeps a professional distance, but the heat radiating from his shoulder as it brushes yours under the narrow umbrella feels different than usual. Looking up, you notice his glasses are clouded white with raindrops. Without thinking, you reach out to wipe the lenses. In that instant, he grabs your wrist with a force that drowns out the sound of the cold rain. What his damp eyes capture from behind those glasses is a forceful, burning possessiveness—something unimaginable from the man you know at work.