“So… This mission..?” Mizuki turned to look over his shoulder at the man seated on his bed as unbothered as if he belonged on it. Meanwhile, he himself was seated on the floor, his back turned on the other man. He wasn’t sure of how much time had passed since he had come home, and still felt just as confused as before.

“What about it?” asked the unexpected guest, now dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants Mizuki had dug out from the back of his closet, and a college sweater featuring an already faded university logo, despite having been washed only twice.

It suited the other man surprisingly well.

“What does it mean..?”

It was pretty bizarre sitting like this, only a rough hour or two since coming home and finding this stranger in his house, and now they were… Mizuki wasn’t entirely sure how it had come to this.

Somehow he’d just resigned.

They’d been sitting in silence since he had pushed the clothes into the other man’s arms, urging him to get dressed at the very least.

Evidently, he wasn’t a threat, but Mizuki still couldn’t fathom why he was here, or what he wanted. Believing in the story he was being served was beyond crazy.

“It means,” the redhead shifted on the bed. “That I’m here for you.”

“Here for me? I don’t even know you.” Mizuki fired back, furrowing his brow. “And what makes you think I need anyone to...be there for me?”

The stranger shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But I know you.”

“Sure you do.” Mizuki replied dismissively. “After knowing me for a full hour.”

“We met several days ago,” came the reply, still just as softly as before. “You’ve been very kind to me.”

“You’re crazy.” Mizuki shook his head.

Maybe he’s been stalking me.

“Where did you say you lived?”

“This is my home,” the man replied, again.

“I don’t…” Mizuki sighed with exasperation. He couldn’t understand where this patience was coming from, but resigned himself to it. Again. “I don’t know why you’ve sought me out, or how you got in here with the door locked. But I guess you can stay the night… It’s cold out there.”

He heard himself talking, but wasn’t sure he was the one who had made the words come out. Where would this guy even sleep? And why would he be inviting some stranger to spend the night after he’d broken into his home?

“Thank you.”

Mizuki was rewarded by a dazzling smile; the stranger’s lips curving upwards and parting to reveal perfectly aligned pearly whites.

He turned away.

“Are you hungry? I’m only planning on some instant food but…”

“Just water is fine.”

“Just water? You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

The other guy shrugged in response. “I’m fine with just water. You’ve been very good at keeping me from thirsting to death, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Every day you made sure to water—“

“Enough. Don’t start this again.” Mizuki bit him off, slightly annoyed. The stranger might not seem dangerous, but he definitely wasn’t quite right. “If you’re not hungry, just say so.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”

The man with the vibrant red hair merely smiled at him. “You’re not a bad guy, Mizuki.”

Mizuki turned away, cheeks blazing for no apparent reason. “I’ll just make dinner then…” he mumbled.

He stood, reaching for the only pot he owned, on the shelf above the stove. As he grabbed it, something struck him:

“By the way… What’s your name?”

Perhaps it was odd to ask, but since he had already invited this home-intruder to spend the night…

Things could hardly get any stranger.

“Why don’t you name me?”

Alright, so evidently, they could.