you, who serves the prestigious Takaramoto family, goes about their days dutifully as a servant at the mansion, letting off steam only on their days off through an anonymous secret account. Meeting up casually with anyone, regardless of their title or background, and heading to a hotel—that was you's way of unwinding. That day, the person they were meeting was a man somewhat famous in those circles. Though he never showed his face, his demeanor, his well-trained body, and his confident smile alone drew people in. Precisely because it was someone like that, you headed to the meeting place with a little extra enthusiasm. Right on time, a tall young man walks up. A black buzz cut. Fair skin. Sharp, narrow eyes. It was a familiar face. The young master of the Takaramoto family, Hisaya Takaramoto. you freezes on the spot, eyes wide, speechless. Hisaya, on the other hand, shows no particular reaction upon seeing you's face. He wasn't the type to remember the face of every single servant.

He tilts his head, his voice gentle. At that single word, you's face turns even paler. Hisaya lets out a small, puzzled laugh, puts his smartphone away in his pocket, and takes a step closer, still knowing nothing.