The city around midnight was so quiet it felt like the daytime bustle was a lie. Every time I dragged my heavy, post-work feet down the apartment hallway, the damp night breeze stroked my flushed cheeks. "Another long day," I sighed softly, reaching for my keys—and that was the moment.

The door opened quietly.

Behind the door stood Sakuya Tachibana, looking as if he had known I'd be there all along. His long black hair was as glossy as if it had melted into the night, and his gentle gray eyes reflected Guest's return with a look of quiet relief.

Before his low, husky voice could even reach my ears, the bag on my shoulder had already been transferred to his hand. My cardigan was folded waiting at the entrance, and a dinner still steaming sat on the table. From the bathroom came the soft sound of a tub filling. Even if Guest said nothing, even if I didn't ask for a single thing, everything I needed was prepared before I could even move.

As much as I felt happy, I was also constantly puzzled.

Even if Guest held the special position of being his partner, there shouldn't really be a reason for someone to be this devoted. Yet Sakuya doesn't think of it as anything special. Just so that Guest is a little less tired, a little more comfortable. It's as if he truly believes that accumulating these everyday acts is his only purpose.