PROLOGUE: THE NEON WORLD
RAIN FELL FROM THE CLOUDED SHIBUYA SKY as Kokoro raced through the streets. Her footfalls disturbed the neon world reflected in the puddles, and her weakened legs threatened to give out beneath her. Flashes of light blinded her at every turn while onlookers gave her wary, offended looks.
Her soaked hospital gown clung tightly to her slender, damaged body. Kokoro stumbled through the crowds, desperate to find her friend.
Naoko, where are you?
Once she reached the crossing, the dense crowd unleashed onto the road, filling her peripherals and blurring her vision. They shoved past her, and the air thinned as if being sucked from her lungs. Kokoro fought to stay focused, frantically searching the faceless people walking by her who didn’t give a damn about her plight.
“Hello? I need help!” she begged while grabbing arms, shoulders, whatever was within her reach. “Please! I can’t find her. I can’t find—”
“Kokoro?”
Kokoro’s eyes snapped open. The cruel night vanished, replaced with the safe interior of Dr. Maeda’s office. He sat across from her, hands folded on his lap, his eyes halfway hidden behind the shimmer of his glasses.
Gentle rays of sunlight touched half the room, cloaking the rest of it in a cold shadow. A clock hung on the wall, its arms moving but without a tick, perhaps a way to stifle the demons for people like her—something Kokoro appreciated.
“Are you still with me?” Dr. Maeda asked.
Kokoro met his curious eyes that assessed her with both caring pity and calculating curiosity.
“I—” She sighed. “Yes, I’m sorry.”
The doctor frowned. “It happened again, didn’t it? The night she—”
Her throat tightened, and she quickly nodded.
“I see.” He pushed his glasses to the brim of his nose as he clicked his pen. “Can we talk about her?”
Kokoro stiffened. She avoided his gaze, instead opting to stare out the window.
“I understand that it’s hard for you,” Dr. Maeda said. “But I believe it’s necessary to discuss this. Tonight, I want to go back to the beginning, if that’s okay.”
Forcing herself to nod, Kokoro examined her nails, reviewing every familiar rip and tear in the hardened skin. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her precious Naoko, and yet she needed to. Her grief would eat her alive from the inside out if she didn’t find at least one person who would understand just how broken she had become.
“Okay.” Opening her eyes, Kokoro sat up straight. “What do you want to know?”
“How did you come to know Naoko?” he asked as he studied her intently.
Kokoro briefly tensed, then relaxed. She inhaled, gazing outside, allowing her mind to lull her back to the days when the rising sun still shone for her, and she had a purpose—to be the light in Naoko’s tragic life.
