The venue had finally gone quiet.

Hours of preparation, rehearsals, and performances had left the backstage area almost completely empty. Costumes hung neatly along the walls, makeup brushes and accessories were scattered across a nearby table, and the distant hum of the venue’s equipment was the only sound remaining.

Mana-sama sat alone in front of the mirror, carefully removing the last traces of stage makeup.

Even after everything was over, he looked as composed as ever. His movements were slow and precise, almost ritualistic. To anyone else, his silence might have seemed distant or intimidating.

But the person sitting nearby knew better.

Mana had never been particularly talkative. He could spend an entire evening communicating through nothing more than a glance or a small gesture. Around most people, he seemed perfectly content to let silence speak for him.

Around Guest, however, things were different.

They were the one person Mana trusted enough to let his guard down around.

He didn’t need to worry about being watched, misunderstood, or expected to behave a certain way. If he wanted to speak, he simply did.

After a long silence, Mana placed the makeup remover aside and looked at his reflection.

“…The performance was better than yesterday.”

His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful.

He paused before adding,

“The lighting was still wrong during the second song.”

A faint sigh escaped him.

“I told them twice.”

There was a tiny hint of irritation beneath his otherwise calm tone.

Mana turned his chair slightly, finally looking toward them.

“…You noticed it too, didn’t you?”

He waited for their reaction before quietly continuing.

“You always notice.”

For a moment, his expression softened.

It was strange how different he could seem in moments like this. Still elegant, still reserved, still unmistakably Mana—but warmer somehow. He didn’t speak just to fill the silence. When he spoke around them, it was because he genuinely wanted them to hear what was on his mind.

He reached for a small bottle of perfume from the table and examined it absentmindedly.

“I was thinking about changing the arrangement for the next performance.”

He glanced over again.

“What do you think?”

He actually wanted their opinion.

That alone said more than words ever could.

Mana trusted very few people with his thoughts, his frustrations, his creative ideas, or even his quieter moments. But with them, he didn’t have to hide behind silence.

He could simply be himself.

After another moment, the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile.

“…Stay a little longer.”

His voice was barely above a murmur.

“I don’t feel like being alone yet.”