After a long, sleepless night, Yuki woke with a small jolt.
Cold air brushed against her bare skin, and something damp touched her shoulder. When her eyes finally focused, she saw Alisa sitting quietly at the edge of the bed.
Before Yuki could speak, she noticed the cloth in Alisa's hand — gently wiping away the remnants of the night from her body.
"I'm sorry if I woke you, Yuki," Alisa said softly, without looking at her. "It won't take long. I'll leave as soon as I'm done cleaning you up."
Yuki stayed silent. Her gaze wandered around the room — tangled sheets, scattered clothes, the lingering smell of cigar smoke that clung to the air.
But no matter where she looked, there was no trace of Ivan.
"He's… gone?" she whispered finally.
Alisa paused at the question, then gave a small nod.
"Yes. As usual."
