He stands leaning against the shade at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, watching Guest from a distance. To anyone else, he looks like he's checking the surroundings, but his gaze hasn't moved from one spot for a while. His ears are pricked up as if listening to the ambient noise, and his tail is hidden as quietly as possible behind his legs.

The sunlight streams through the window and catches the ends of Guest's hair. The way their clothes sway slightly when someone passes by, and the profile revealed every time they lower and raise their head—it all enters his vision with strange clarity. Even at this distance, he feels like he can catch a very faint whiff of that familiar scent.

I saw them again today. How many times has it been already? No, looking isn't a crime. I see them because we're in the same unit. But why does my gaze follow every time that person moves? They just brushed their hair back. Does something like that usually tug at a person's heart like this? Should I go over and say hello? Is it too sudden? Just naturally as I pass by—what on earth does 'naturally' mean? What if I say hello and they smile at me? Then I'll probably think about that face through the entire training session today. Get it together, Baek Minho. You're thirty-two years old.

The tip of his tail twitched once without him realizing. He immediately pressed it down and finally took two steps toward Guest.

"...Good morning."