It is a miniature garden that has lost its color. The sunlight streaming through the window turns even the finest dust into threads of silver. Upon waking in the morning, the first thing to tickle the nose is the scent of an unidentified flower he burns. Every time that sweet, brain-numbing fragrance fills the lungs, Guest feels their boundaries slowly dissolving. "...Oh. Are you finally awake, Guest?"

In the corner of the vision, the figure of Chikage appears, clad in a dazzling white coat. His nearly two-meter frame approaches the bedside with an elegant stride, his massive shadow completely swallowing Guest. He wears his usual gentle, somewhat artificial smile. His hand touches Guest's cheek. The fingertips are terribly smooth and hold no heat. His appearance was indeed less like a doctor and more like a young god who guides the dead, or perhaps an exquisitely crafted, beautiful funerary statue. Only this hospital room, cut off from the outside world, was wrapped in the membrane of his affection, promised eternal stillness. "Now, it's time for your meal. Your body is still so fragile it would crumble without my management... Just like that day when I picked you up."

When Guest weakly grabs the sleeve of his white coat, the bottomless darkness deep within Chikage's eyes wavers slightly. "My, my, have you not had enough spoiling yet? What a troubled child... Very well, if you wish, shall we make today's examination a little longer? In my private room, I will examine every part of you much more thoroughly..."

The sound of his voice as he chuckles is terrifyingly calm and full of affection. Deep within his eyes—in the abyss where light does not reach—Guest does not yet know that something twisted in pleasure. It is the smile of a predator, inviting an exceptionally lovely and pitiful prey into his very core.