October 3rd, 3027.
7:00 PM.
Rain fell over Itwatsukilike a quiet, endless whisper.
Not harsh.
Not violent.
Just… constant.
Each drop struck the ground with a soft rhythm, merging into thin reflective sheets across the roads.
Neon signs from distant buildings bled into the wet surface, scattering into fractured reds, blues, and purples—like broken pieces of another world.
Above—
The sky stretched deep and black.
Not empty.
Distant celestial bodies shimmered faintly, unfamiliar planets hanging like silent witnesses beyond the atmosphere.
Their glow was subtle… but unnatural.
The roads below were nearly empty.
Only the occasional hum of hover vehiclesechoed faintly as they glided through the air, their lights cutting clean paths through the mist before vanishing again.
Near the outskirts of the district—
Virex Club.
Closed.
Dark.
Abandoned.
A metal shed extended slightly from its entrance, shielding a narrow strip of ground from the rain.
Under it—
He stood.
Jin Kurotsuki.
Still.
Unmoving.
His long black coat fell sharply along his frame, untouched by the rain.
His hands rested inside his pockets, posture relaxed yet perfectly balanced.
The rain fell inches away from him—
But never touched him.
As if the world itself… stopped just short.
A faint hum vibrated through the air.
From above—
A sleek police hover bikedescended, its lights slicing through the rain before stabilizing just beside the entrance.
It powered down with a soft mechanical sigh.
Natsumistepped off.
Her boots touched the wet ground, droplets scattering slightly as she straightened up.
She adjusted her jacket casually, her expression already carrying a familiar smirk.
She glanced at him.
Then at the rain.
Then back at him.
Wow…
She walked closer, stopping beside him under the shed.
You came early?
I thought CEOs don't stand in the rain like side characters.
Jin didn't look at her.
His gaze remained forward.
You're late.
Flat.
Precise.
Natsumi exhaled a quiet laugh.
Still the same, huh…
She stepped beside him fully now, her shoulder almost aligned with his, both facing the dark entrance of the club.
Her eyes shifted toward the sealed door.
Virex Club.
A small pause.
Her tone changed.
Serious now.
Last case location.
The rain filled the silence between her words.
The victim vanished from inside.
She folded her arms loosely.
…No forced exit.
Her brows narrowed slightly.
No surveillance record.
Another pause.
Nothing.
Jins eyes shifted slightly.
Still calm.
Still calculating.
Then something removed them.
The words settled between them.
Natsumi glanced at him.
No surprise.
No disbelief.
Just understanding.
…yeah.
A shared silence followed.
Not empty.
Aligned.
She stepped forward.
The metal door stood shut, heavy and unwelcoming.
She reached into her jacket, pulling out a small device.
A click.
A soft digital hum.
She pressed it against the lock.
A pause.
Then—
Click.
The sound echoed louder than it should have.
Like the building itself had been waiting.
The door slid open slowly.
Darkness greeted them.
Jin stepped in first.
His posture didn't change.
His pace remained steady.
Natsumi followed just behind him, her eyes already scanning everything.
Inside—
The club was dead.
No music.
No voices.
No life.
Only silence.
Jin reached into his coat and pulled out a torch.
A sharp beam of white light cut through the darkness, slicing across the room and revealing fragments of what once was.
Dust floated in the air, disturbed by their presence, drifting slowly like ghosts caught in a forgotten space.
The faint sound of water dripping echoed somewhere deeper inside.
Broken neon lights flickered weakly along the walls, their glow unstable, casting distorted shadows that moved without rhythm.
Exposed wires hung loosely from the ceiling near the dance area.
Dead systems.
Abandoned.
Jin began walking.
Slow.
Measured.
Each step deliberate.
His shoes pressed lightly against the floor, the sound echoing outward into the empty space.
Natsumi followed slightly behind and to his side, her gaze constantly shifting—corners, ceiling, floor—nothing escaped her notice.
You always walk like you already know what you're looking for,she muttered quietly.
Jin didn't respond.
His torchlight moved ahead, guiding the path.
They reached the center.
The main dance floor.
The beam of light widened slightly.
And the damage revealed itself.
Shattered glass scattered across the floor, reflecting faint glimmers of light.
Chairs overturned, some broken, others pushed violently aside.
Dark stains marked the surface beneath them.
Dried.
Irregular.
Jin stopped.
Then slowly crouched down.
One knee lowering to the floor.
The torch angled downward.
Focused.
Natsumi stepped beside him and knelt as well, placing her kit down and opening it swiftly.
Jins eyes traced the stain.
…blood.
Natsumi nodded, already preparing a small tool.
Matches earlier case patterns.
Her tone was calm.
Professional.
But beneath it—
Concern.
Jins gaze shifted slightly across the floor.
The beam of light followed.
Scratches.
Deep.
Uneven.
Not from dragging.
Not from falling.
…not human.
He spoke quietly.
Natsumi glanced at the marks.
…yeah.
She collected a sample carefully, sealing it.
Jin stood up slowly.
His posture straightened as his eyes moved again—mapping the space, reconstructing something invisible.
No drag marks.
His voice cut through the silence.
Natsumi closed her kit and stood beside him.
So the victim didn't resist… or didn't get the chance.
Jin turned slightly.
His gaze shifted toward the bar area.
Or it was too fast.
They walked again.
Slow.
Careful.
The bar counter stood ahead—dimly lit, half-shadowed, its once-polished surface now covered in scattered objects.
Papers lay strewn across it.
A phone rested near the edge.
Lifeless.
Natsumi reached it first, picking it up and pressing the screen.
Nothing.
Dead.
She placed it back.
Jins torch moved across the counter.
A glass.
Still standing.
A faint outline of dried fingerprints clung to its surface.
Uncleaned.
Untouched.
Natsumi leaned slightly against the counter, scanning the area.
No robbery.
Her voice echoed softly.
No panic exit either.
Jin stood just beside her, his presence still as ever.
Targeted.
One word.
Final.
The silence returned.
CHAPTER 4 — Veil of the Night (Continued)
The air inside the club felt heavier the deeper they went.
Jin moved first.
Away from the bar.
Away from the open space of the dance floor.
Toward the darker end of the building.
A narrow corridor stretched ahead, half-swallowed by shadow.
The ceiling lights flickered weakly, some dead entirely, leaving gaps of darkness between dim patches of pale illumination.
Natsumi followed closely behind, her steps quieter now, her earlier casual tone gone.
Only focus remained.
Their footsteps echoed faintly along the tight walls.
Metal.
Concrete.
Closed space.
At the end—
A door.
Worn.
Marked.
SECURITY
Jin stopped just before it.
His gaze rested on the handle for a second.
Then he pushed it open.
The door creaked slightly.
Inside—
Disorder.
The room was small but cluttered.
Multiple monitors were mounted across the front wall—but all of them were dark.
Lifeless screens reflecting nothing but shadows.
Wires hung loosely from the sides, tangled and exposed.
Some had been pulled out entirely.
Others… cut.
Not abandoned.
Tampered.
Natsumi stepped past Jin, moving directly toward the central console.
Let's see what you were hiding…
She crouched slightly, brushing aside a few loose cables before pressing the main power switch.
Nothing.
She clicked her tongue lightly.
Of course…
Her fingers moved quickly, reconnecting a loose port, adjusting a line, forcing the system awake manually.
A second passed.
Then—
Flicker.
One screen lit up.
Then another.
A low hum filled the room as the system struggled back to life.
Static.
Distorted visuals.
Natsumi leaned closer.
Come on…
She tapped a few commands.
Playback system.
Search.
Retrieve.
The screen blinked.
Loading—
Then—
Black.
Nothing.
Her eyes narrowed.
…no footage?
She tried again.
Different time.
Different angle.
Same result.
Empty.
Deleted.
Natsumis expression hardened.
…someone wiped everything.
Her voice had changed.
No trace of playfulness now.
Only certainty.
Jin stood behind her, slightly to the side, his posture straight, gaze fixed on the screens.
Recently.
His voice was quiet.
But precise.
Natsumi didn't turn.
…yeah.
A pause.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
But the understanding was clear.
Someone had been here.
After the incident.
Someone careful enough…
To erase it completely.
Natsumi leaned back slightly, exhaling.
…they're watching their tracks.
Jins gaze didn't move.
They're controlling them.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Intentional.
Then—
Jins wrist shifted slightly.
His eyes dropped.
A glance at his watch.
11:00 PM.
Time had passed without either of them noticing.
He turned.
That's enough.
No hesitation.
No second thought.
Natsumi closed the system with a quiet motion and stood up.
She didn't argue.
Didn't question.
Just nodded.
…yeah.
But as Jin stepped out of the room—
Her eyes lingered.
Just for a second.
On the dead screens.
Something unspoken flickered across her expression.
Then—
Gone.
She followed him out.
Rain still fell when they stepped outside.
Unchanged.
Unending.
The city glowed in the distance, neon lights reflecting off the wet ground in fractured patterns.
Neither of them spoke.
Jin walked ahead.
Natsumi beside him now, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets.
Their footsteps blended with the rain.
Silent.
Thoughtful.
Separate.
Yet aligned.
The city swallowed them again.
Steel, glass, and silence.
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft mechanical whisper, sealing Jin inside alone.
The interior reflected him faintly from all sides—dim lights, polished metal, a quiet hum filling the enclosed space.
He stood still.
Hands in pockets.
Gaze forward.
The numbers climbed slowly.
10…
11…
12…
A pause.
Then—
13.
The doors opened.
The familiar corridor stretched ahead, long and pristine, white tiles gleaming under soft overhead lights.
Every step Jin took echoed lightly, measured and controlled, breaking the stillness only to let it settle again behind him.
He walked alone.
Past identical doors.
Past silence that felt almost intentional.
Until—
His room.
He reached it.
Paused for just a fraction of a second.
Then opened the door.
Inside—
Darkness.
Soft.
Controlled.
Jin stepped in, the door closing quietly behind him.
He loosened his coat slightly as he walked forward, the fabric shifting smoothly along his shoulders.
His movements slowed now, transitioning from the outside world into something more personal.
He stretched subtly—
Arms loosening, shoulders relaxing—as he came to a stop near the edge of the bed.
The floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room faintly, the neon glow of Itwatsukipainting streaks of color across the walls and floor.
It was midnight now.
12:00 AM.
The city still alive.
Still watching.
Jin exhaled quietly.
Then—
He paused.
Something felt… off.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But wrong.
His eyes lifted.
Toward the window.
And there—
A figure.
Still.
Unmoving.
Silver hair cascading softly down her back, catching the faint glow of the city lights.
A flowing off-shoulder white dress brushed lightly against her frame, reaching down toward her feet—light, almost unreal against the darkness of the room.
She stood there.
As if she belonged.
As if she had always been there.
Jin blinked once.
A flicker of confusion.
Then his arms folded across his chest, posture shifting instantly back into control.
You're in the wrong place,he said, voice calm, edged with cold certainty.
Whoever you are.
The figure moved.
Slowly.
She turned.
Her silver eyes met his.
For the first time—
She saw him.
Messy black hair falling naturally across his forehead.
Sharp, dark eyes that held more than they showed.
The long black coat, the stillness, the presence—
Mysterious.
Unreachable.
And in that moment—
She knew.
…it's him…
Lily stepped forward.
Soft steps against the floor.
Closing the distance.
She stopped just a couple of meters away from him, her posture calm, her gaze steady despite everything unfamiliar.
I'm Lily Kitagawa…
Her voice was gentle.
But clear.
I've been… asked to spend time with you till the 25th of October.
Jins eyes widened slightly.
Just for a second.
Then narrowed.
His arms remained folded.
Who said that?
Lily didn't hesitate.
Your mother.
The air shifted.
Jins gaze sharpened instantly.
And then—
Click.
The door opened again.
Hanaka stepped inside.
Jin turned toward her immediately.
What is this, Mom?
His voice remained controlled.
But colder now.
Sharper.
Hanaka walked in calmly, stopping between them, her expression soft, unbothered by the tension filling the room.
She's here to get to know you more,she said gently.
For a contract… of marriage.
Jin froze.
The word lingered.
Contract.
Marriage.
His jaw tightened slightly.
I don't do husband-wife stuff.
Flat.
Immediate.
Hanaka didn't even pause.
You don't,she replied, her tone still warm—almost light.
But I do daughter-in-law stuff.
A quiet defense.
For Lily.
Who stood there silently, observing, her eyes moving between them.
Jin glanced at his mother.
Then at Lily.
Then back again.
A breath left him through his nose.
Tch…
A small sound.
Reluctant.
…fine.
The word dropped like something forced out rather than given.
Hanaka smiled faintly.
Satisfied.
She turned and walked toward the door.
Then paused.
Without turning back fully—
And Jin…
A small beat.
No asking Lily to sleep in another room.
Her tone carried quiet authority now.
She's staying here with you.
And with that—
She left.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Different this time.
Jin exhaled sharply.
Then walked to the bed and sat down, leaning back slightly before pulling his laptop onto his lap.
Work.
Control.
Distance.
Lily remained standing for a second longer.
Blinking.
Processing.
Then she let out a small breath and walked to the other side of the bed.
She sat down.
Pulled her legs up slightly.
Resting her back against the headboard.
Her gaze drifted toward the massive window.
The city beyond it glowed endlessly.
Jin didn't look at her.
Listen,he said, eyes already on the laptop screen.
Just because my mom said that doesn't mean I'm going to be soft on you.
His fingers began moving.
Typing.
Focused.
Make your own place.
Lily glanced at him.
Just for a second longer than necessary.
A flicker of annoyance.
Then she looked away.
…fine…
She murmured quietly, more to herself than to him.
Silence settled between them again.
But not empty.
Not distant.
Just… new.
Two figures.
On the same bed.
Facing different directions.
Living in entirely different worlds.
Now—
Forced into one.
The city lights shimmered across the glass.
Time moved.
And somewhere within that quiet collision—
Something had begun.
Something uncertain.
Something unspoken.
Would it bloom?
Or break?
Only time would tell.