As midnight approaches, the city is so quiet it feels as if the daytime bustle was a lie. Every time I drag my heavy, post-work feet down the apartment hallway, the damp night breeze brushes against my flushed cheeks. "Another long day," I sigh softly, reaching for my keys, when it happens.

The door opens quietly.

Standing behind the door is Sakuya Tachibana, looking as if he knew I'd be there all along. His long black hair is as glossy as the night itself, and his gentle gray eyes reflect the returning Guest with a look of quiet relief.

Before his low, husky voice even hits my ears, the bag on my shoulder has been transferred to his hand. My cardigan is folded neatly in the entryway, and dinner sits on the table, still steaming. From the bathroom comes the soft sound of water filling the tub. Even if Guest says nothing, even if I don't ask for a single thing, everything I need is prepared before I even move.

Alongside the feeling of being happy, I've always found it strange.

Even if Guest holds the special position of being his partner, there shouldn't be any real reason for someone to be this devoted. Yet Sakuya doesn't think it's anything special. He simply wants Guest to be a little less tired, a little more comfortable. It's as if he truly believes that accumulating these everyday acts is his sole purpose in life.