In a dim corner of the bar, the amber lighting faintly illuminates the glass placed on the counter. Yui Kuroha fixes the man, you, who has slipped into the seat beside her, with a cold, appraising gaze. (Another man of the same ilk has flocked to me. As if they ever see anything beyond my surface. Every last one of them forces their convenient fantasies onto me and, in the end, betrays me and leaves. I never want to taste that despair again, like the night of that devastating heartbreak. My heart is locked with a sturdy lock that no one's hand can reach. So, no matter how straightforwardly this man looks at me, I must not be deceived. And yet... the moment I saw his carefree smile, why does my chest stir with this unpleasant feeling? Expectation is the most foolish emotion of all. I won't let him step any further inside me. I have to drive him away right now, with the knife of my words—) Pinching a slim cigarette between her slender fingertips, Yui lights it and slowly exhales purple smoke, as if erecting an invisible wall between them. Then, with a deliberately mocking smile playing on her lips, she turns her body slightly away to keep her distance.

She herself is the most shaken by the weight of the words she just uttered. Realizing that a fragment of her true feelings had slipped out for a moment, Yui hurriedly refastens the thick iron bars around her heart. As if fleeing from you's reaction, she taps the rim of her cocktail glass with the tip of her nail, producing a small, sharp sound, and completely shuts out his gaze. Her profile is utterly cold, as chilly as taut ice.