The howling night wind battered Kaoru Hoshitani’s thin body without resistance, tossing his soft black hair into utter disarray and whipping up the hem of his single layer with violent force.
He clutched his now-darkened phone tightly in one hand, knuckles showing a bluish pallor from his grip.
His other hand hung powerless at his side, fingers cold and numb.
His head was bowed slightly, messy bangs obscuring most of his expression—only a pale chin and tightly pressed, bloodless lips remained visible.
Below his feet stretched the city’s dazzling but cold sea of lights, nighttime traffic weaving together into a flowing river of light.
In the distance, neon signs in the commercial district shimmered with dreamy, shifting colors. Everything seemed so far away, so unreal, as if separated from him by a thick, impenetrable pane of glass.
He was high up here, the wind was fierce, the world noisy, and yet so quiet.
So quiet he could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, hear his heart thumping heavy and slow in his chest, every beat carrying a suffocating pain.
He didn’t even dare look down, or toward the direction of his own Home.
The light shining from that Familiar Window, at this moment, was more terrifying than any darkness, more despairing than any abyss.
He stood there like a statue deprived of Life, frozen at the rooftop’s edge, behind him a daily life he could never return to, before him…
An endless, icy Void.
The night wind kept blowing, trying to steal away what little warmth clung to him, as if attempting either to push him from this perilous edge—or… drag him down.
And downstairs, Aina Saiten, oblivious to it all, waited for her Akane to come Home, her lingering worry overshadowed by greater anticipation…
—————
Rika Kawasaki still couldn’t bring herself to just let it go.
Her movements stiff, she walked back to the Master Bedroom, hurriedly slipped on a loose T-shirt and track pants, not even bothering to fix her messy blond hair, grabbed her Car Key, and strode toward the Garage.
The Engine’s low growl echoed in the quiet Garage, Direction Lights slicing through the dimness.
She pulled the Car onto the street; the city’s night lights flowed past the windows, the world outside noisy and indifferent.
As she rounded the first corner outside the Villa District, slowing in confusion to search the sidewalks, her gaze landed on a familiar, slender figure—Kaoru Hoshitani, opening a Car door and bending to sit inside a just-arrived Taxi.
The Orange Taxi Roof Light glowed conspicuously against the night.
Without hesitation, Rika Kawasaki pressed the accelerator softly, keeping an unremarkable distance as she tailed the Taxi.
Her fingers tapped unconsciously on the steering wheel, gray eyes locked on the vehicle ahead, gaze conflicted.
She couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Was she afraid he’d run out and get into trouble?
Or was it, after that slap and those hateful eyes, some deeper, murkier bond within her made it impossible to cut ties completely?
She couldn’t untangle it.
The Taxi weaved through the neon-lit Commercial District, entered quieter residential streets bathed in yellow streetlights, and finally stopped in front of an Apartment Building.
Rika Kawasaki parked in the shadows across the street, turned off the Engine, and watched in silence.
She saw Kaoru Hoshitani push open the door, pay the fare, then—with a bowed head and unsteady steps—walk toward the Apartment Building’s entrance.
The Remote Control Light in the stairwell flickered on with his footsteps, fading floor by floor after he vanished, until, upstairs, not a single Window lit up—perhaps he went straight to the bedroom, or maybe didn’t turn on the lights at all.
Only after confirming he’d truly entered the building did Rika Kawasaki finally lean back in the driver’s seat, as if a burden had been lifted.
She rolled down the window, letting in the chilly night air, laced with the city’s faint dust and distant traces of food.
She reached into the Storage Compartment, pulled out a pack of Cigarettes, and lit one.
The red tip flickered in the dark, a faint tobacco scent spreading.
Leaning against the window, her gaze remained on the Apartment Building as if she could see through its walls and glimpse that little man within, not knowing what he was doing at this very moment.
Only after the Cigarette burned to ash did she stub it out, start the Engine again, and silently drive off, melting into the Main Road’s traffic, leaving the Apartment Building far behind.
Yet, what she didn’t know was that after Kaoru Hoshitani entered the Apartment Building, he didn’t go to his own Home.
He moved like a soulless shell, drifting on instinct through the silent halls, not taking the Elevator, but instead climbing the stairwell—step by heavy step—upwards.
The Remote Control Light flickered on with his approach, casting his paper-white face and hollow eyes into sharp relief, before fading away behind him as if devouring the world he left.
When he pushed open the heavy Security Door to the rooftop, the night wind—laden with the scent of city dust—immediately assaulted him, pressing his thin shirt tight to his body, his black hair whipped into chaos. Staggering, he approached the edge.
There was no railing here, just a low Cement Parapet, barely reaching his thighs.
Beneath his feet yawned dozens of meters of vertical Void, and below, shrunken cars, pedestrians, and a sea of cold, dazzling lights in the distance.
Kaoru Hoshitani himself did not know why he’d ended up here.
He only felt as if his insides had been completely hollowed out, leaving only boundless, suffocating pain and confusion.
In his mind, everything that had happened that day in the villa replayed over and over—those inescapable touches, burning breaths, humiliating shudders, and finally, his futile, desperate resistance.
Each detail seared his memory like a red-hot iron, sizzling into him.
He couldn’t imagine how to face Aina’s clear, gentle, trusting eyes with a body that had been defiled.
How to keep up the daily lies under her caring questions.
Just thinking about Aina’s possible breakdown or revulsion if she ever learned the Truth hurt more than dying.
His Life, that carefully guarded, simple happiness built with Aina, had been utterly destroyed today—by that woman, and by his own weakness.
Now that his most precious thing was shattered, living on seemed to mean only endless pain, disguise, and torment.
Even breathing the chilly air felt burdensome.
[If I just jump from here… everything will end, right?]
This thought circled his empty mind, like the most tempting whisper in the dark.
The Pain would vanish, the shame would end, he’d never have to face Aina again, never have to remember that blonde woman.
The dizziness of height and his death wish mingled, making his frail body sway in the biting wind, toes almost over the edge.
Just one step forward and gravity would take everything.
For people—especially someone like Kaoru Hoshitani, sensitive, emotional, and with little life experience—the dam of reason is easily destroyed when faced with an overwhelming, unbearable blow.
Taking things to the extreme is a common tragedy.
His childhood bond with Aina Saiten, their pure relationship as each other’s only partner, formed his almost perfect Faith in Love and loyalty.
Before meeting Rika Kawasaki, he’d never, not even in his imagination, thought he’d be close to any woman but Aina. Loyalty was the foundation of his Faith in Love.
But today, all that was smashed brutally.
Deep inside, he screamed not to betray Aina, unable to accept the loss of his chastity, but the memory of his body being forced and the lingering physical responses coldly proclaimed the irreversible Truth.
This intense mental conflict, self-loathing, and utter hopelessness spun into a maelstrom, shredding his will to live and finally pushing him to the brink.
As his body swayed more and more, eyes losing focus, as if the next moment he’d fall into the Void—
“Riiing… Riiing…”
A clear, familiar ringtone suddenly rang out from his pants pocket, breaking the monotonous reign of wind atop the rooftop.
It was as sharp as a needle, piercing through the fog of his near-collapse.
For any living creature, the desire to survive is the deepest, most primal, and powerful instinct.
This sudden ringtone was like a rope thrown to a drowning man; fragile as it was, it sparked a ripple of the will to live.
Kaoru Hoshitani’s body shuddered violently, as if awakening from a nightmare.
He stared blankly for a few seconds, a glimmer of clarity struggling back into his eyes.
Slowly, stiffly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the insistent phone. On the screen, the name “Aina” flashed.
Those two characters seemed to burn his eyes with warmth.
Hesitating, trembling fingers hovered over the answer button.
Maybe…
Maybe this would be the last time he heard her voice? At least, say a proper goodbye?
With such tragic resignation, he pressed the answer key.
Yet, when his girlfriend’s familiar voice, thick with open worry and urgency, called his name and asked where he was, all the parting words he’d prepared caught in his throat.
Instead, almost by instinct—he lied.
He heard his own hoarse voice spinning weak lies like “at the Supermarket,” “night discounts”—so ordinary, so fragile.
He couldn’t let her hear anything wrong, couldn’t make her worry, and definitely couldn’t…
Break down over the phone.
That act nearly drained his last reserves of strength.
After hanging up, only the busy tone remained.
The rooftop’s night wind seemed to blow harder and colder, cutting through his thin clothes, raising goosebumps, but also cooling his feverish mind just a little.
[I promised Aina… I’d be Home soon after shopping…]
That promise, trivial as it seemed, now shone like a faint but unwavering light in his dark heart.
Home, that warm, familiar place where Aina waited.
Promise—even just a simple, everyday promise about shopping. These mundane, trivial bonds now gathered into a soft but mighty force, slowly pulling him back from the edge of self-destruction.
The longing for Life, like the returning tide, slowly but steadily took back its ground.
He suddenly stepped back from the dizzying brink, his undershirt instantly soaked with cold sweat.
Cautiously, almost crawling, he backed away until his back pressed against the inner side of the Cement Parapet, and finally collapsed.
His legs shook violently, unable to hold him up.
Sliding down the wall to the freezing ground, he curled up, face buried in his knees, shoulders shaking silently.
The immense exhaustion of survival, mixed with renewed pain and confusion, made him feel helpless as a lost child.
He didn’t know how long he’d curled up on that icy rooftop, but only when the night’s chill seeped into his bones and his trembling slowly subsided did he finally struggle to his feet with the help of the wall. His legs were still weak, but at least he could walk.
He cast one last glance at the devouring black Void, then turned and stumbled through the Security Door back into the stairwell, returning himself to the world of light and warmth.
He didn’t go straight Home.
Since he’d told Aina he was at the Supermarket, he had to bring back some “evidence.”
Down the stairs and out the Apartment Building, he headed for the nearby Mall.
Even at night, the Mall was still brightly lit, though the crowds had thinned.
Bright lights, soft background music, aisles packed with goods—these familiar daily sights stood in strange, ironic contrast to the storm raging inside him.
He drifted like a ghost in the fresh produce section, grabbing a few discounted vegetables and a bento that looked reasonably fresh, his movements mechanical.
Pushing the cart past the clothing area, his gaze brushed the racks of hanging clothes, and his body froze.
He glanced down at what he wore—high-quality, well-tailored garments, bought without argument yesterday by Rika Kawasaki at that Boutique.
The Price Tag on those clothes cost Aina a month of hard work.
If he went Home wearing these, Aina would immediately notice and ask questions.
Without hesitation, he headed to the budget clothing section, searching quickly.
Soon, he picked out a plain, off-white High-neck Sweater that would fully cover his neck, and a pair of deep blue, ordinary Blue Jeans.
The reason for the high neck was obvious—right now, his previously smooth neck and collarbones were covered in deep and shallow red marks and bruises, marks left by Rika Kawasaki, impossible to erase at once.
Even on the way back from the villa, he’d already felt the curious or suspicious stares of passersby—he absolutely couldn’t let Aina see these glaring “evidences.”
With the chosen clothes in hand, he hurried to the Changing Room.
Closing the door, the small mirror inside reflected his pale, haggard, red-rimmed eyes.
He quickly stripped off the expensive clothes, as if shedding a filthy skin, and put on the plain sweater and Blue Jeans.
The high neck wrapped tightly around his throat, bringing a sense of closed, almost suffocating security, thoroughly hiding all the shameful marks.
Staring at his reflection—almost like his old self for a fleeting moment—the deep shadows in his eyes and the inescapable hollowness reminded him of the ruin inside.
After changing, he folded the costly clothes neatly, walked out of the Changing Room, and calmly paid for everything at the Checkout Counter.
Carrying a Shopping Bag with cheap clothes, a little food, and the expensive old clothes, he left the Mall.
The night street had grown much colder.
He walked to a large Garbage Sorting Bin not far from the Mall, didn’t pause, didn’t look back at the bag of old clothes, and tossed it straight in.
The clothes hit the bottom with a muffled thud, quickly covered by other trash.
Hundreds of thousands of yen’s worth of luxury was thrown away so easily—just as he tried to throw away that unbearable memory and the “gift” forced upon him.
Having done all this, he tightened his grip on the Shopping Bag with the things he truly needed to bring Home, looked up at the Apartment Building.
There was a window there, with a light behind it, and someone waiting for him under that light.
He took a deep breath of cold night air and, with heavy but resolute steps, walked toward that place called “Home.”
Though the road ahead was uncertain and the Pain hadn’t faded, at least for now, going Home was the only thing he could hold onto…
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