With both hands weighed down by shopping bags full of groceries and daily necessities, Kaoru Hoshitani habitually lifted his foot, ready to gently nudge the Door shut with his toes.
The Door swung inward with the momentum, about to close perfectly flush.
The latch was nearly set to click into place, leaving only a narrow sliver of darkness where not even a ray of light could pass through.
At that very moment, the instep of his foot—clad in soft indoor socks—felt an abrupt, determined resistance.
[The Door… It feels like something is jamming it from outside, holding it tight. I can’t push it shut…]
That thought, like a cold electric current, shot instantly down his spine.
Before he could process it, the force from outside the Door abruptly surged, unmistakably forceful.
The gap, which had been about to close, suddenly screeched in protest, widening inch by inch under a relentless push.
Then, a few fingers—healthy and wheat-colored, with defined joints and an undeniable strength—slithered through the forcibly widening gap like invading vipers, bursting into the tiny space Kaoru Hoshitani regarded as his only safe harbor, the cozy home he’d built with his beloved girlfriend, Aina Saiten.
The Dream that had clung to him for days like maggots on bone now erupted into icy reality in the most direct and violent way possible.
Kaoru Hoshitani didn’t need to think at all—those distinct, wheat-colored fingers instantly overlapped in his memory with that terrifying figure.
He knew all too well. The person outside, forcing her way in with brute strength, was none other than the woman who had nearly dragged his entire life into the abyss—the yellow-haired Rika Kawasaki!
[No… I can’t let her in! Absolutely not!]
Overwhelming fear exploded into pure, instinctive resistance. He didn’t even have time to set down the heavy shopping bags. He simply let go.
The Plastic Bags emblazoned with the Supermarket logo hit the Foyer floor with a sharp “thud,” and Tomatoes, Potatoes, and other groceries tumbled out, gathering dust.
He almost threw himself forward, pinning his thin frame against the Door, pushing with pale, slender hands that now surged with desperate strength.
He bit down hard on his lip, tasting blood, delicate brows knit tight, pouring every ounce of strength into forcing the Door—that line between safety and danger—closed again.
But as a physically frail man with little strength to begin with, Kaoru Hoshitani’s feeble resistance was like a mantis trying to stop a carriage before the tall, powerful, leopard-like woman outside—utterly useless.
He could only feel, in despair, the massive force pressing through the Door, his feet involuntarily sliding back, inch by inch, across the floor—
The Door, along with himself, was being driven inexorably and suffocatingly inward, at a slow but unstoppable pace.
“Thud—!”
A heavy, dull crash.
“Clatter…”
Finally, Kaoru Hoshitani’s arms gave way, unable to muster another ounce of strength.
It was as if every bone had been pulled from his body; the Door burst open, knocking him to the ground, and he landed hard, seated on the cold floor.
The dull pain radiating from his hips and elbows was nothing compared to the wound fear had just ripped open in his heart.
At that moment, the sunlight that should have poured through the open Door was almost entirely blocked by a towering figure.
Rika Kawasaki stood in the doorway like a harbinger of disaster. Against the light, her silhouette was rimmed with darkness.
The deep shadow she cast fell like an invisible cage, swallowing the small, fragile Kaoru Hoshitani whole, stripping away the last remnants of light and warmth from his world.
Kaoru Hoshitani felt as if his soul had been drained. His clear, deer-like eyes—always bright with unshed tears—were now dull and lifeless, unable to focus on anything.
He stared blankly at the groceries scattered across the floor.
Tomatoes rolled away, a cracked Egg oozed sticky yolk, and…
Not far away, a pair of long, wheat-colored legs, wrapped tight in skinny jeans—straight and powerful—stood planted firmly.
Rika Kawasaki took in the scene at her feet, the thrill of conquest clear in her eyes.
Her gray pupils glittered with an almost predatory excitement in the backlight, clearly satisfied with the terror, helplessness, and utter defeat on display from this little man.
The weaker and more terrified he was, the more it ignited the twisted desire for control deep inside her.
“Bang!”
She swung the Door shut behind her with force, sealing the room with a deafening slam that seemed to shut out all hope of rescue from the outside world.
“Click, click.”
Two crisp, decisive sounds as she deftly twisted the simple lock on the Door.
Then, without hurrying, she crouched down, coming nearly eye-to-eye with the crumpled Kaoru Hoshitani, who now had to look up at her.
But this near-level gaze was nothing but oppressive.
Her stare was so intense it felt physical, pinning his pale face in place.
“Don’t even think about calling the police, or yelling for help,”
Rika Kawasaki watched his lips—pale and pink—tremble violently, as if about to cry out in despair at any moment.
His small hands fumbled blindly on the floor, searching for a Mobile Phone or anything he might use to defend himself.
She sneered, her voice like shards of ice, crystal-clear in its threat,
“If you don’t want these Photographs to become public knowledge.”
After speaking, as if to crush his last line of defense, she slowly pulled out her Mobile Phone, fingers swiping with practiced ease, then shoved the screen right in Kaoru Hoshitani’s face.
There, on display, were the Photographs she’d secretly taken in the dim Warehouse, while he was too dazed to resist—angles twisted, images obscene, utterly humiliating.
Kaoru Hoshitani’s pupils contracted to the size of pinpoints the instant he saw the screen!
His body first went rigid, then trembled uncontrollably, unsure if it was pure terror or shame-fueled fury that he could not express.
His breath came short and shallow, chest heaving, as if he might suffocate at any second.
Seeing such a violent reaction from the little man at her feet, Rika Kawasaki’s lips curled in a satisfied, wicked smile.
She even deliberately spoke in a tone of wonder, as if admiring a work of art, tapping a particularly humiliating spot on the screen with her finger as she said, slowly,
“Look, what a beautiful scene… Isn’t it? I remember it well. At that time… you didn’t even last five minutes, did you? Honestly… you’re just too adorable…”