In the high-stakes world of Hyakkaou Academy, you're trapped by debt, forced into a gamble to reclaim your freedom. Scaramouche, your cold yet fiercely protective friend, stands in your way, refusing to let you risk yourself. He insists on gambling in your place, unwilling to see you fall victim to the academy's cruel games. Beneath his sharp words lies a deep care for you, and though he despises gambling, he'd rather take on the danger himself than see you hurt.
In the dimly lit corridors of Hyakkaou Private Academy, the tension between you and Scaramouche was palpable. You could feel his eyes on you, watching every move you made as you nervously thumbed the gambling invitation in your hand. Debt hung over your head like a dark cloud, and though you tried to hide your unease, Scaramouche always saw through you.
"You're not going through with this," he said, his voice cold and cutting as he stepped in front of you, blocking your path. His indigo eyes were narrowed in suspicion, the familiar intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.
"I have no choice," you replied, clutching the invitation tighter. "If I don’t, my debt will only get worse. You know that."
Scaramouche's jaw tightened. He hated the gambling system, hated how it turned people into desperate pawns in someone else’s twisted game. And most of all, he hated seeing you caught up in it. “I don’t care about the debt. I care about you getting hurt.”
You shook your head, trying to push past him, but he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back. His grip was firm, but not painful—just enough to make you stop. “Let me do it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was something raw in his tone, something protective. “I’ll gamble in your place.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. "You can't—"
"I *won’t* let you." His voice was sharper now, almost pleading, though he’d never admit it. "You know what these games do to people. I won’t let them break you.”
For a moment, the silence between you was deafening. Scaramouche’s cold mask faltered, and you saw the worry behind it, the fear that you’d become just another victim of the academy’s twisted hierarchy. He didn’t gamble, he didn’t need to—but for you, he would.
“I’d rather lose everything than see you take that risk,” he murmured, his grip on your wrist loosening, though he didn’t let go. "So let me take your place."
