After taking turns showering, the group settled in for a well-deserved night's rest.     

However, sleep eluded Yomite, his mind consumed by the day's battles. Seeking solace in the night air, he left his room and ventured outside for a quiet stroll.     

It was then that he spotted Rosaria, perched upon a rooftop, lost in slumber. Intrigued, he deftly scaled the roof to join her.     

"..."     

Bathed in moonlight, Rosaria's distinctive beauty captivated him, her gray skin shimmering like silver.     

Though she despised her complexion, Yomite found it enchanting.     

Overcome by curiosity, he delicately grazed her arm with his fingertips, marveling at its texture and wondering if her entire body shared this unique trait.     

As Yomite's fingertips made contact with Rosaria's skin on her arm, he was struck by its distinctive coolness. Her skin, though delicate, felt cold, it was a smooth surface of her skin that seemed to defy the warmth of human touch.     

At his touch, Rosaria's violet eyes snapped open, ablaze with shock and fury. "You've finally shown your true colors, you animal! I knew it! Leaving Barbara with you is a mistake!" she hissed, misconstruing Yomite's intentions. A spear materialized in her hand, its deadly point aimed at his most vulnerable region. At his crotch.     

"Castration isn't enough!"     

Yomite raised his hands defensively, his heart pounding in his chest. "Oi, oi, oi! Staaaaph! I didn't have any intentions like that! I'm all for consent between both parties! Leave my little brother alone!"     

Rosaria's grip on her spear tightened, but her eyes wavered with doubt. "Explain yourself," she demanded, her voice as frigid as the night air.     

Yomite inhaled deeply, choosing his words with care. "I couldn't sleep and saw you here. I...didn't mean to startle you...Why not sleep inside, where it's more comfortable? Even Barbara is there, you know? You'll just catch cold."     

"I prefer it here," Rosaria replied, her tone defensive. "It's quieter, and I can stand guard. Using Barbara as a bargaining chip won't always work."     

Yomite nodded, understanding her desire for solitude. He knew that Rosaria's presence in the teapot was due in part to her concern for Barbara.     

He had offered her a token to his teapot, unwilling to leave her alone outside in the abyss again while they rested in his abode. He felt bad for last time, so he wanted to make it up to her.     

Rosaria initially declined, but when Yomite playfully threatened to attack Barbara during the night, she reluctantly agreed to enter, her sour expression betraying her wariness. "I'll be watching your every move," she warned.     

"Alright, if you prefer it here, stay. But know that you're safe here; I doubt anyone would attack us in this place."     

"Quite possibly no one except you," she retorted, still suspicious. "I bet this is where you lure all the girls that fell for your charms. If it's not what I think it is, then why did you touch me? What did you want?"     

"I didn't want anything," Yomite admitted, his voice sincere. "I just thought you looked... beautiful. I didn't mean to disturb you. Somehow my body moved on its own and I just touched you...you could attribute that to my perversion, I guess."     

"Is this about my skin again...? You pervert."     

"I admit, I'm a pervert. I like what I like. Will you tear off your skin just because a handsome pervert likes it?"     

Yomite found himself captivated by the diverse colors of skin. Blue and green hues added an air of mystery that he couldn't resist. Now, confronted with Rosaria's silver skin, akin to that of a vampire, his fascination reached new heights. There was an otherworldly beauty about her, one that was both ethereal and haunting. In the presence of such a rare and alluring sight, he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.     

"...My skin again...why are you..."     

To Yomite's surprise, the corners of Rosaria's lips curved into a subtle smile. "You really are...a strange one, Yomite. An attention-seeking fly, always buzzing and waiting to be swatted."     

"Welp, unfortunately, that's me. Being the center of attention means I not only welcome troublemakers like you but try to resolve their problems. Oh, and you finally called me by my name. How nice of you."     

Rosaria lowered her spear and sighed, "Great, Trisha, now, if you're done being a pervert and a weirdo, I suggest you go and find your own spot to rest. Preferably far, far away from me. I won't let you off the hook next time you touch me in my sleep, you creep."     

Yomite smiled gently, relieved that the tension had eased. "I guess I'll be more careful around the sexy assassin nun, thanks for the heads up. I'll leave you here for the time being, but if you feel cold or something, then come inside. Good night."     

"Hmph."     

Yomite descended from the rooftop, leaving Rosaria to her thoughts as she settled back into her makeshift perch, her heart perhaps a little lighter than before. As she resumed her watch, her eyes were drawn to Yomite's retreating figure. A flurry of emotions cascaded through her, ones she had never thought she would feel.     

The usual calmness of hers that once shrouded her had been replaced with anger and something she couldn't quite identify, something that lingered at the edge of her consciousness whenever she talked to him.     

The night air grew colder, but her heart felt warmer, inexplicably so. She couldn't deny that Yomite had affected her in a way no one had before.     

His honesty about what he liked about her, his peculiar sense of humor, and his unwavering willingness to approach her despite her nasty exterior—all of it had slowly begun to erode the walls she had built around herself.     

Could it be that she was beginning to harbor feelings for this strange and unpredictable man? The idea seemed absurd.     

She was a disciplined warrior, a woman of focus and resolve. Crushes were for little girls who needed protection from their prince in shining armor and dreamers like Barbara, not for someone like her.     

Rosaria scolded herself for entertaining such thoughts. She was an assassin, a servant of darkness. She had no time for sentimentality or foolish crushes. The mission always came first; there was no room for distractions.     

But as the night wore on, she found herself contemplating Yomite's words and actions. His voice echoed in her mind, his smile lingering like a ghost.