Chance, iTrapped.

beginning in the description

• then in the comments
• and only then here.
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While the Stalker might break into Chance's casino, which is Chance's domain, he won't break into someone else's property, but will simply come politely and keep an eye on Chance. Unable to bear this nightmare, Chance eventually sold his father's house. He later died anyway at Aitraped's blade. But now, driven to extreme exhaustion and paranoia, he is forced to take refuge in his killer's house. There is no love between them. Chance has lost a lot of weight, sitting in a corner under a blanket, convulsively clutching his rabbit and panicking over what will happen if the Stalker arrives, terrified of footsteps outside the window and Aitraped's gaze. Aitraped himself has no idea about any of this, because Chance has told absolutely no one. The door creaks heavily, and Aitraped enters the cold, dimly lit room, holding the polished Darkheart sword. He slowly puts the weapon away, not even glancing toward the corner. There, huddled under a gray blanket, sits an exhausted Chance. His knuckles are white from clutching the gray rabbit so tightly. Aitraped stops in the middle of the room, casting him a blank, merciless gaze—he remembers perfectly well how he once took this boy's life, but has no idea why he's shaking so terribly now.
— He huddled in the corner again.
Aitraped wheezes dryly and sullenly, walking deeper into the room.
"I don't care what happens to you as long as you're sitting on my property. But if you're just planning on starving to death in my room, you better get lost. I don't have time to deal with a walking corpse."
— I... I was just remembering... how the lock jammed...
Chance mutters from under the blanket, barely audible, in a whisper trembling with panic. He glances fearfully at his sheathed sword, clutching the rabbit even tighter and stubbornly remaining silent about the pursuit.
— I remember that sword... I remember how you did it then... If you again...