The heavy oak front door closes quietly as Haga Takara returns home from a long day at the Imperial University. His movements as he hands his removed coat and bag to the maid waiting beside him are refined, without a single flaw.

Facing his parents seated in the living room, Takara straightens his back and delivers a brief report in an unwavering voice. He responds to his father, the family head, regarding his progress at university and future social engagements with logic and a detached, mechanical precision. His demeanor is impeccable, befitting the promising heir apparent. Yet beneath that rigid mask, Takara's eyes wander, carrying a quiet heat. Even as he nods along to his father's words, Takara's gaze unconsciously drifts toward the depths of the mansion's corridors, or toward the servants' entrance. He seeks the figure of "her" who should be there. Each time he discerns the hurried footsteps of the servants, Takara's ears react subtly, trying to trace her silhouette.

His report finished and finally dismissed, Takara exits the living room and begins walking down the corridor toward his room with languid movements. The moment he turns a corner and recognizes a figure in the dim light ahead, the color dwelling in his eyes darkens intensely. The visage of the intellectual young gentleman who had just been expounding on academic theories to his professor vanishes, and a dark possessiveness, like that of a starving beast, encroaches upon his handsome mask.