PROLOGUE
The rain that had been falling since dawn stripped Tokyo of its color. The hallway of the old apartment building on the border between Okubo and the red-light district felt like a stuffy cavern, swallowing up the dark remnants of the night and the scent of rusty iron.
Before Hiyori, the hiss of the rain and the roar of car engines from the street below faintly drowned out Noah’s voice. Yet Hiyori could still catch every pause in his silence—and the words she never expected to hear from Noah’s mouth.
“Look at me, Noah.”
Noah didn’t budge. His jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the cracked tiles at their feet, as if avoiding the judgment of the pair of eyes before him.
“Noah… after that night, after you forced me to believe in this illusion of togetherness, now you’re telling me to erase it and speak so cruelly?”
“I’m sorry, Hiyori.”
“Sorry?” Hiyori gave a bitter chuckle. “Do you think an apology can erase what you’ve done?”
“Hiyori, I—”
“Enough.” Hiyori cut him off, feeling she no longer needed to hear the rest. “The car is waiting downstairs. Your people are getting impatient. Go. We’re done anyway, so stop acting like you’re the one who’s been hurt the most. There’s no need for any more excuses.”
Hiyori turned away, letting the darkness of the hallway swallow her. She forced herself to keep walking, using her part-time shift at the shipping warehouse—which was about to start—as an excuse. If she didn’t leave right away, Noah would see just how fragile she really was.
But she hadn’t gone far when the sound of heavy footsteps followed her.
Noah charged down the stairs. His uniform was soaking wet, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, where his temples were throbbing wildly. Without warning, Noah’s hand clamped down on Hiyori’s wrist. The grip was rough and possessive, leaving red marks on the girl’s pale skin. Hiyori’s transparent vinyl umbrella slipped from her grasp, bouncing loudly on the wet asphalt and rolling into the gutter.
“Let me go, Dojima!” Hiyori hissed.
The surname rolled off her tongue like poison. Noah flinched; his eyes, which had been averting her gaze, finally met hers with an expression that was hard to read—a mixture of pain and obsession he couldn’t quite hide.
“If you really want to leave, then go!” Hiyori’s voice trembled, drowned out by the roar of the increasingly heavy rain. “Why did you come back just to torment me like this? I’ve known this all along. People from your world can never be trusted. I’m just entertainment, right? Part of your perverted game. So, let me go and get out of my sight!”
“It’s not like that, Hiyori,” Noah protested, his voice hoarse.
Hiyori closed her eyes for a moment. The increasingly heavy rain seeped into the fabric of her clothes, bringing a chill that almost froze the anger in her chest, though it at least masked the tremor at the tip of her chin.
“Dojima,” Hiyori called out. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the shadowy figures behind Noah. “Your men are looking at me as if I were merchandise ready to be dragged to an underground club and sold. They clearly don’t like seeing me yell at you. So, let’s just end this. We’ve already agreed to part ways. Stop beating around the bush. If you’re standing here just to play the role of a man tormented by guilt, please stop. Get it over with now. It’ll be much easier for me that way.”
Noah’s gaze fell on Hiyori’s fists clenched at her sides. Her skin was pale and trembling violently, whether from the cold or fear.
The muscles in Noah’s jaw tensed. Every dark instinct within him screamed to seize that hand, to warm it between his rough palms. But he knew that his touch might now be nothing but poison to her. If he touched her now, he knew he would never be able to let her go again. And that would destroy them both.
“Someday, I’ll explain everything to you, Hiyori. I swear.”
“No.” Hiyori shook her head slowly, staring at Noah with eyes filled with conviction. “I already told you to leave while I was still speaking to you politely, Dojima. Now, or any other time… I don’t need your explanation. Save your promises for someone else. I hope we never have to meet again.”
Hiyori finally turned her face away, ending the verbal sparring. She turned her back, letting the rain swallow her figure, and kept walking without looking back.
Noah Dojima might not have been crying. However, the wild tremor in his jaw and his ragged breathing revealed a storm far more deadly. Fools might call this a failed first love story; for Noah, however, everything about Hiyori Tanaka was far more than just a first love that could be easily let go of and forgotten.
His dark eyes stared at Hiyori’s receding back, swallowed up by the darkness of the Okubo district. That gaze was not the gaze of a man willing to let her go. For Noah, not now—no, not now. Someday, he would make sure Hiyori would come back to him and listen to him again. Hiyori was a kind-hearted girl who always understood him. The only person capable of understanding all his wounds.
Slowly, Noah slid forward until his knees hit the wet asphalt.
When Noah knelt down, he didn’t mean to give up, but this was the only way to stop himself from chasing after her, snatching her away, and locking her up forever. Under the dim glow of the streetlight, reflecting the cracked neon light in the puddles, Noah’s eyes looked empty.
I’ll clean up all this mess, Hiyori, Noah thought to himself. I’ll destroy anyone who dares to stand in our way, and then I’ll come to get you. You’ll understand. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?
Amid the pouring rain, Noah continued to stare after Hiyori, even though her silhouette was no longer visible. His subconscious had already forgotten what he’d just done to Hiyori—the words that hurt her, drowned out by delusions born of guilt.
Yes, Hiyori was a good girl. Too pure for this rotten world. She always understood how the world’s cruelty had taken everything away from me. She was the only one who didn’t run away when she saw the blood on my hands.
Noah stared at the reflection of his own face in the puddle of water between his knees.
Hiyori must understand, Noah muttered, quickly immersing himself in his own conviction.
She has to understand.
