A cramped room, no windows. 0

In such a place, Se-Hoon and Meirin found themselves avoiding each other’s gaze awkwardly. Whenever their eyes accidentally met, they both flinched and quickly looked away. 0

But as time passed, they gradually grew accustomed to each other’s presence. 0

And with their hearts pounding like broken machines, they drew closer and closer until….0

“Shall we head out?”0

“Let’s do that.”0

Of course, that never happened.2

In the first place, while both appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties, they were far too mature for such a thing. As a regressor, Se-Hoon was much older mentally, and Meirin simply was older. 0

Sharing a room—especially when it wasn’t even the same bed—was hardly enough to make their hearts beat erratically. And even if it was, both of them were skilled enough in the Blood Arts to fix it in an instant.1

As a result, they both spent the night either sleeping until dawn or just staring at their phones, completely avoiding the incidents their neighboring hotel’s guests might have worried about.0

“…”0

That didn’t mean nothing changed between them, though. Meirin, in particular, had been feeling a strange sense of discord that she couldn’t shake off.0

“Should we…”0

“Go grab some coffee?”0

“…Yeah.”0

Before she could even finish her sentence, Se-Hoon had already stepped into a cafe.0

He returned a moment later with two cups of coffee, holding them out to...0