Two in the morning.
Kujukuri Beach, Chiba Prefecture.
This was still one of the few stretches of wild coastline that hadn’t yet been completely swallowed by the bubble economy’s feverish resort-development plans.
There were no streetlights.
No breakwaters.
Only the endless black Pacific, pounding against the shore without rest.
Crash—
Crash—
The roar of the waves was enormous, carrying an oppressive force that made it seem as though the sea wanted to swallow everything in its path.
The rented white Toyota Crown stood barely twenty meters from the surf.
Its headlights were off.
The only sound from the car was the occasional faint ticking of the engine as it cooled.
Outside, the cold was brutal.
The sea wind carried damp, salty spray that cut across the skin like a knife.
Shin Kitahara pushed open the driver’s door and stepped out first.
He removed the dark gray Burberry trench coat from his shoulders, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door.
Akina Nakamori sat curled up in the seat, staring blankly at the pitch-black ocean beyond the windshield.
“Come on.
You can’t really see it from inside the car.”
Shin draped his trench coat around her shoulders and pulled the collar closed around her neck.
“Don’t worry.
There’s nobody here but the seagulls.”
Akina climbed out almost mechanically.
The coat was far too large for her.
Its hem nearly reached her calves.
She wrapped it tightly around herself, but even that couldn’t stop the cold from creeping upward through the soles of her feet.
The two sat side by side on the hood of the car, which still held a little warmth from the drive.
Before them, the black ocean roared.
Behind them, the land slept in darkness.
For a while, it felt as though only the two of them remained in the entire world.
“You know something, Kitahara-kun?”
Akina finally spoke.
Her voice was soft, yet somehow remained perfectly clear even through the howling sea wind.
“Everyone thinks I chose this.”
She stared into the darkness.
“The magazines call me some foolish woman who’s lost her mind over love.
My fans say I’m pathetic for putting up with it…”
Her lips trembled faintly.
“You think that too, don’t you?”
Shin said nothing.
He simply watched the white foam rolling across the water ahead of them.
“The truth is…
he and I were never in that kind of relationship.”
Akina lowered her head and stared at her pale fingers.
Her voice was so calm that she might have been telling someone else’s story.
“From the very beginning, it was a ‘script’ arranged by the agency.”
“Kanai was the newcomer the executives wanted to push the hardest.
They needed publicity.
They needed the image of a ‘national couple’ to make people pay attention to him.”
She gave a faint, bitter laugh.
“And me?
I was the blood bag they hooked up to him to keep the whole thing alive.”
Shin’s eyes narrowed.
Akina continued.
“I refused.
I wanted to tell everyone the truth.”
Her voice began to shake.
“But the executive director threw a stack of documents in my face.”
“There were breach-of-contract penalties.
My family’s addresses.
Bills from the facility taking care of my mother…” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
She drew in an unsteady breath.
“He told me that if I didn’t cooperate with their little performance—if I didn’t help cover the gambling debts from Kanai’s racing obsession—they would make sure I’d never be able to recover for the rest of my life.”
Her fingers curled against the sleeves of Shin’s coat.
“I’m not his girlfriend.”
“I’m his ATM.”
“His shield.”
A violent gust swept across the beach, whipping loose strands of hair across her forehead.
Akina raised her head.
Those eyes that had once shone brilliantly beneath the stage lights now seemed filled with shattered moonlight.
Tears slipped silently down her delicate, bloodless cheeks.
She didn’t sob.
She didn’t make a sound.
She simply looked at Shin with helpless, exhausted despair.
It was the gaze of a wounded deer driven to the edge of a cliff by hunters—no path left to escape, no strength left to fight, not even the right to cry for help.
And as she looked at Shin, it was almost as though she were staring at the last lifeline remaining in a merciless world.
“Kitahara-kun…”
Her voice was barely more than a murmur.
“I’m so tired.”
Her body leaned slightly toward the ocean, as though the next gust might carry her straight into the black water.
“If I just walked in there now…
would I finally be able to stop acting?”
Shin froze.
His heart clenched violently.
Until now, he’d assumed this was the same ugly story he’d seen countless times in the entertainment industry—a scumbag boyfriend exploiting a woman who had fallen too deeply in love to walk away.
He’d been wrong.
This wasn’t some melodramatic romance gone rotten.
It was something far uglier.
A machine built from money, contracts, influence, and fear, slowly devouring a human being alive.
Anger.
A cold fury unlike anything Shin had felt before ignited in his chest.
Akina swayed again.
Shin’s arm shot out.
Smack!
His hand closed around her slender wrist.
Hard.
Almost roughly.
Akina jolted in surprise and looked up at him in confusion.
“Don’t say something that stupid.”
Shin’s voice was low and hoarse.
He stared directly into her eyes, the warmth of his hand pressing firmly against her cold skin.
“Dying because of people like that isn’t worth it.”
“But I can’t escape…”
“You can.”
Shin cut her off.
Each word landed with the force of a nail driven into the wind.
“If it’s a script, tear it apart.”
“If they’re vampires, rip out their fangs.”
He released her wrist and reached into the inner pocket of the trench coat.
From it, he drew the [Silver Zippo].
Click.
The metal lid snapped open.
His thumb rolled across the striker wheel.
A small orange flame sprang to life on the dark, freezing shore.
Shin didn’t light a cigarette.
Instead, he cupped one hand around the lighter, shielding the tiny flame from the wind.
It twisted and shuddered violently beneath every gust…
…but refused to go out.
“Look at it.”
The glow illuminated the sharp lines of his face, making him seem almost immovable against the darkness.
“As long as there’s still a flame, the night will eventually end.”
Akina stared at it.
Against the endless darkness surrounding them, that tiny flame was the only living source of light.
It was warm.
It was bright.
“It’s almost out of fuel, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice slightly nasal from crying.
“It’ll last.”
Shin looked straight at her.
His expression was completely serious.
“As long as you still need a flame, this lighter will have fuel.”
Then he added quietly:
“I’ll help you.”
It wasn’t empty reassurance.
It wasn’t something said merely to make her feel better for a few minutes.
Now that Shin knew the truth, it was a decision.
If this industry was determined to bury people beneath its darkness…
…then he would help her tear a hole through the sky.
At that moment, the heavy darkness along the eastern horizon began to fade.
Dawn was coming.
The first blade of golden sunlight pierced through the clouds and spilled across the glittering surface of the Pacific.
Its warmth touched both their faces.
Akina narrowed her eyes against the brightness.
Then…
She smiled.
It was only the slightest curve of her lips.
A tiny, fragile smile.
But somehow, it felt more real than the sunrise itself.
“My coffee’s cold.”
She lifted the cup she’d been holding all night and took a sip of the now-lukewarm drink.
Shin closed the lighter.
Click.
“Let’s go.”
He jumped down from the hood and held out his hand to her once more.
“We’re going back.”
His gaze sharpened.
“The fight is only beginning.”
Akina looked at the hand extended toward her.
Long fingers.
Dry.
Strong.
This time, she didn’t hesitate.
She placed her hand in his and used his strength to hop down from the hood.
“Kitahara-kun.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
She pulled the trench coat tighter around herself, still carrying the warmth he’d left inside it.
“I don’t want to die anymore.”
Her eyes were still red, but there was life in them again.
“Now I want to see which of us lasts longer—me, or that bastard.”
Shin opened the passenger door and watched her climb inside.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Kanai.
And that so-called top agency standing behind him.
Looks like your good days are coming to an end.
The Crown’s engine came to life.
Shin turned the car around.
Then they sped away from the dark shoreline, racing toward the horizon where the sun was rising.