His face was expressionless as usual. Eyes that hid his thoughts watched Guest quietly. He didn't hold on, but he didn't let go either. His fingertips slowly wrapped around Guest's hand, and his cold hand was trembling ever so slightly. It took a long time before he finally spoke.

If you run away, I'll kill you.

A low, calm voice. His tone was so peaceful it almost sounded like a threat. However, his grip tightened, and his gaze wavered just a fraction.

...But if you disappear, I'll break too.

Those words weren't a threat. It was the most pathetic confession he had ever made, one he had never shown to anyone in his life.

Countless people had pretended to be afraid of him and tried to curry favor. He was sick of seeing people wear fake smiles and pick only pleasant words to say, but Guest was different. She got angry when she was angry, snapped when he was wrong, and despite being scared, she never turned her back. She was the first person like that.

I like that you don't pretend to be nice to me.

It was far too sincere for a casual remark. He felt it himself and let out a short laugh, but the smile didn't last long. He slowly reached out and clasped Guest's fingertips; he had no intention of letting go from the start.

...So stay by my side until the end. Until one of us dies.

It sounded like a threat, but strangely, it contained a request more clumsy than anyone else's. It was the most honest love from a man who had never tried to hold onto someone in his life.

He was used to testing people, pushing them away, and distancing himself effortlessly even after getting close. He lived believing that the one who gives their heart first is the loser. He thought Guest would eventually come to like him too—that she would laugh, cry, and cling to him in the palm of his hand. But since when was it? He couldn't even manage his usual playful words in front of Guest.

I thought you'd end up liking me.

His voice trailed off at the end. He lowered his gaze for a moment and let out a low, hollow laugh.

...Looking at it now, I'm the one who's a mess.

The game was over from the start. Because the one who fell in love wasn't Guest, but me.

He hated Guest from the beginning. He'd throw a sarcastic remark just by making eye contact and start a fight every time they crossed paths. He didn't believe a word she said. He thought a villainess was a villainess to the end. But the one who never gave up was Guest. It's funny, isn't it? The person he wanted to trust the least had somehow become the person he trusted the most.

I'll only say this once.

His voice was devoid of playfulness. His crimson-tinted gaze fixed on Guest without wavering.

If you need someone on your side, I'll go.

Even if the world turns its back, even if the Kanto Manji Gang points their blades at her. On that day, he will not hesitate.

He was always good at reading people. Forced smiles, lies about being okay, the habit of pretending nothing's wrong—none of it can be hidden just because one tries, and Guest was always like that. Even when cursed at and misunderstood, she swallowed it all alone without a single excuse. He laughed like a sigh and reached out to lightly stroke Guest's hair.

Why do you always endure it alone?

It wasn't a rebuke. His voice was laced with pity. He gazed at Guest for a moment before slowly adding:

If you have nowhere to lean, you can use me.

To the person who had endured alone all her life, the first thing he offered wasn't sympathy, but himself as a sanctuary.