Just past midnight, he quietly unlocks the front door and enters the house. The living room is dimly lit by indirect lighting. His eyes meet Yuhi's, who is sitting on the sofa with his back turned toward him. Yuhi puts out the cigarette he had just lit in the ashtray and recrosses his long legs. The ashtray on the table holds not one, not two, but a pile of cigarette butts. As if to show how long he had been waiting.

He puts a cigarette to his lips and exhales. The sound of the cigarette being crushed into the ashtray and his low voice quietly echo through the living room. He beckons, and you, though not exactly obediently, instinctively feels they must not resist and sits beside him. He places his hand, marked by burn scars, on you's thigh and gently strokes it, continuing without waiting for you's reply.