Tokyo — Winter, 2011
Snow had begun to gather on the windowsill of Takehana Ito's bedroom, soft flakes tapping faintly against the glass as she sat hunched over her desk. Her midterm papers were scattered around her, but she wasn't studying them.
She was glaring at Tanaka's name on the club roster.
"That jerk…" she muttered through clenched teeth.
Ever since exams ended, he had completely vanished. No calls, no messages… not that he had a cellphone to begin with. He'd just disappeared without a trace, leaving the rest of the Literature Club to fend for themselves.
"I mean, yeah, we messed up by forgetting the school festival," she grumbled, hugging her pillow as if strangling it would help, "but it's not like we can't recover! Why'd he ditch us like that…?"
Tanaka's last words echoed in her head.
'Nope, you guys are doomed.'
"Mou! I can't keep thinking about this!" Hana snapped, standing up abruptly. "I need a break. I'm going to go buy clothes or something."
She grabbed her coat, slipped on her scarf, and headed out into the crisp winter air.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The mall's warm air wrapped around her as she stepped inside, exhaling steam from the cold. After trying on a few outfits in a boutique, Hana exited the store—only to freeze mid-step.
Something… or rather, someone caught her eye.
A little girl was crouching behind a large decorative plant, hiding with the stealth of a cartoon character. She kept peeking around the leaves and giggling to herself. And she was beautiful—unbelievably so. Jet-black hair that shimmered like silk, flawless porcelain skin, and eyes the color of the sky on the clearest day.
She looked like a tiny angel, misplaced on earth.
"What are you doing there?" Hana asked gently.
"Eeek!" The girl squeaked, jumping like a startled kitten. The small, adorable sound punched Hana's heart so hard she nearly collapsed.
The girl puffed her cheeks, crafting an excuse instantly. "Um—I'm, uh—taking a break! Because it's boring inside." She tilted her head, acting cute on purpose, and Hana felt her soul leave her body.
Too cute. Way too cute.
"With whom did you come here? Where are your parents?"
"Ah! I'm here with my mother." She pointed toward a woman browsing clothes inside the shop. "I'm just waiting because I got bored."
"Oh, I see…" Hana relaxed a little.
And then—
A mall-wide announcement chimed overhead.
"Attention shoppers. We are currently searching for a missing child."
Hana lifted her head upwards, the sound catching her attention.
"Female, approximately six years old, black hair, sky-blue eyes—"
The exact description of the girl beside her.
Hana slowly turned her head.The girl very slowly turned hers back.They made eye contact.
The girl smiled innocently.
Before she could react, someone darted into her peripheral vision—a blur, cutting through the crowd with speed that startled her.
"Mio!"
The girl blinked once… then giggled. "Ah, I've been found."
In an instant, the boy skidded to a stop in front of the little girl.
Tanaka dropped to his knees and pulled her into a hug so tight it looked painful. His voice trembled. "Thank god—Mio, you're okay! You're seriously going to give me a heart attack one day…"
The little girl puffed her cheeks in "Oni-Chan! it's unfair to use the radio!"
Hana, standing beside them, was at peak confusion as she found Tanaka present, "Oni-Chan?!"
Despite him being worried, he still managed to form a smile, "It's unfair to start playing unannounced. I told you we could play like that at home. I'm fine but think about poor Benson running around, he's getting old."
The girl smiling and not reflecting at all, "I'm sorry."
Hana's eye twitched.
"Oi! Are you ignoring me?!"
Then, finally looking up, he exhaled a shaky breath. "Thank you—Hana? What are you doing here?"
"You just realized I was here? I could say the same about you! You are planning to ditch us."
Tugging on his shirt, Mio spoke, "Oni-Chan, who is she?"
Tanaka responded, "She is a friend from school."
Hana's eyebrow twitched. "You just realized I was here? I could say the same about you! And weren't you planning to ditch us?"
Before Tanaka could respond, Mio tugged gently on his sleeve, tiny fingers curling into the fabric. "Oni-Chan, who is she?"
Tanaka glanced down at her. "She's a friend from school."
"I'm from the same club he's been skip—wait." Hana stopped mid-sentence as Tanaka reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black rectangle.
A smartphone. In 2011.One that looked way too advanced for a student.
"What—Is that a phone?!"
Tanaka put up a quieting hand. "Ah, wait a second. "He turned away, lifting the device to his ear.
"Hey, Benson. I found her. …Yeah. Okay, we'll meet at the coffee shop next to the central fountain."
Benson? Hana blinked. That… didn't sound like any Japanese name she knew.
As soon as he hung up, she grabbed his sleeve.
"What was that? You said you didn't have a phone!"
"I only use it for family contact and emergencies."
Hana stared at him, dumbfounded. "You could've given me your number to plan the school festival!"
"That's not an emergency."
His flat reply made her twitch visibly.
Before she could yell at him again, Tanaka straightened up. "First, let me treat you to something. I need to thank you properly."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Hana befriended for a few months now and has established a certain image regarding Tanaka. He was handsome, incredibly dense and always indifferent.
However, that image was shattered that day.
The moment they sat down, Mio climbed right into the seat next to him, practically glued to his side. Tanaka didn't complain. He didn't tell her to move. If anything, he leaned a little closer so she wouldn't slip.
She swung her legs, humming happily.
He didn't even scold her after running away.
"Buy whatever you like," he said gently.
"I want ice cream!" Mio announced, raising both hands.
Hana blinked. He sounds like someone's dad…
Tanaka nodded. "Alright. I'll get a coffee. And Hana—since you like sweet things, get the parfait."
Mio giggled. "Hehe! Oni-Chan is weird. Drinking bitter coffee."
Patting her head, Tanaka responded, "I know, right? Oni-Chan is weird."
Hana watched the two of them bicker softly—Tanaka's expression softened, Mio beaming, the two moving in sync like long-practiced routine.
She couldn't help smiling.
"I didn't know you had such a cute little sister," she said.
Tanaka shrugged lightly. "Well… it never came up."
Of course it didn't.He never talked about himself. Not in class, not in the club, not anywhere.
Their orders arrived—coffee releasing a thin curl of steam, parfaits glistening under the shop's warm lights.
"Anyway," Hana said, spoon in hand, "what are you doing here?"
"We came here to get Oni-Chan's guitar," Mio answered proudly.
"You can play the guitar?" Hana blinked.
"It's not a guitar," Tanaka corrected, almost too casually. "It's a bass. And yeah, I can play a little."
"He's lying," Mio announced instantly, puffing up with righteous conviction. "Oni-Chan is really good."
Hana's heartbeat stumbled.Oni-Chan.Hearing someone call Tanaka that—someone so tiny and angelic—it did something strange to her chest.
Tanaka let out a weary sigh. "Again, thanks for finding her. She can be… quite mischievous sometimes."
"No, no—it's alright," Hana replied. "You two look really close."
As she spoke, a dignified silhouette approached their table—an older man, late forties, with silver-threaded hair neatly combed back.
"Young Miss! Young Master! Thank goodness!" he exclaimed, relief breaking through his polished demeanor.
His posture was impeccable, his steps measured and soundless despite his polished shoes. He wore a crisp dark overcoat over a tailored vest, the type of attire that made him look like he had stepped straight out of a mansion's hall.
"Hello, Benson!" Mio chirped, waving her spoon like a wand.
Tanaka winced. "I told you not to call me that in public."
"My apologies," Benson said with a respectful bow. "It slipped."
Mio puffed her cheeks. "Don't you feel bad about worrying Benson like that?"
She took a blissful bite of parfait. "Yes I feel bad, I'm sorry—yum!"
"Reflect a bit," Tanaka sighed, though his tone was helplessly fond.
Once Benson confirmed their safety, his eyes shifted to Hana.
And… who is this miss?" Benson asked politely.
"Oh—right." Tanaka straightened. "This is Takehana Ito. A friend from school. She's also in my literature club."
"And this is Benson, he's..." he paused for a bit, choosing his words with care. "He's taken care of us since we were kids."
Hana and Benson exchanged a long, quiet look—both trying to understand what the other's place in Tanaka's world was. The silence felt heavy, stretching—
Until Mio crashed through it like sunshine.
"Hey Oni-Chan," she said, tugging on his sleeve, "Can she come to our house and play?"
"Huh?" Hana and Tanaka exclaimed at the same time.
Tanaka shot Benson a desperate look, but Benson, of all people, betrayed him."Well," the older man said calmly, "I don't see the harm."
Mio beamed. "Oni-Chan is really amazing with the guitar, and he's really good at singing too!"
Hana's eyes widened. Singing? She tried to imagine Tanaka singing and failed completely.
"Really?"
"It's bass," Tanaka muttered. "And that's not the point. You can't trouble her like that—she has work to do. Especially with the school festival."
"The school festival you're supposed to help with," Hana added pointedly.
Before Tanaka could retort, Mio leaned forward, her expression suddenly serious.
"If One-Chan comes," she said quietly, "I'll stop running away."
"..."
"..."
The table fell silent.Even Benson froze mid-step.Tanaka's eyes widened a fraction.
Hana had no idea what this meant, but she felt the shift in mood like a sudden drop in temperature.
After a moment, Tanaka spoke.
"Tomorrow is Saturday," he said, voice low. "Can you come?"
"Huh?"
"Okay," he continued, almost briskly, "give me your number. Me and Benson will come pick you up."
"Wait—this is too sudd—"
"We can also figure something out for the school festival."
Her protest dissolved immediately.
"Thirty-one… seventy… five…" she began reciting.
******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Badum.
"…Oh? Now you're worried about talking?" a familiar voice said lightly."Relax. It's just me."
"…."
Tanaka stared at Nora longer than necessary.
It made her shift uncomfortably. "What is it?"
He raised a hand to his neck.
It was still there.Whole.Attached.
Yet the phantom pain lingered—cold, sharp, unforgettable.
Badum. Badum.
His fingers pressed against his skin as if expecting it to give way.
"I feel sick."
The words barely left his mouth before he was moving.
Tanaka lurched off the bed, stumbled into the bathroom, and barely made it to the basin before retching violently. His body burned from the inside out, skin flushed, breath coming in short, ragged pulls.
His vision swam.
That sensation again—The heat.The pressure.The moment just before his head—
Badum. Badum.
A knock struck the door.
"Hey—are you in there?" Nora's voice came through, sharp with concern. "What's wrong with you?"
"Go away!" he snapped.
Badum. Badum. Badum.
What killed me?Was I poisoned?
There had been something wrong with him before his head was torn off. That much was certain. His body had reacted before the end—It was as if he had a fever.
But why?
He'd kept a low profile. No reckless moves. No unnecessary attention. He shouldn't have been important enough for someone to kill—
His thoughts screeched to a halt.
Nora.
Last night's confrontation surfaced in his mind. The forced truce. The uneasy ceasefire. There had been no guarantee she'd honor it.
She was a shinobi.
Poisoning him would be trivial—especially if she'd found a way to weaken him first.
Badum. Badum. Badum.
His teeth clicked together as frustration spiked.
"Fucking calm down," he hissed under his breath. "I can't think like this."
The irony tasted bitter.He'd died before. Many times.
Death wasn't something can simply get used to, but This terror felt fresh.
Pathetic.
His heartbeat roared in his ears, drowning out rational thought.
Badum. Badum.
His chest hurt.
The sound wouldn't stop.
There was only one answer.
He needed to confirm it himself.
Even if his heart refused to settle, Tanaka forced his breathing steady and left the bathroom, descending the stairs with practiced calm masking a storm underneath.
"Hey," Garitch called out from behind the counter. "You okay, James? Nora said you weren't feeling well."
Tanaka paused.
"It's not surprising," Garitch continued. "You've been pushing yourself nonstop since you arrived. Take a break, yeah?"
Tanaka hesitated, then wrote again.
"Thank you."
Garitch nodded, satisfied enough, and went back to his work.
Tanaka's eyes swept across the room.
Once.Twice.
She wasn't there.
His grip tightened around the notebook as he wrote again, slower this time.
"Where is Nora?"
"Oh, her?" Garitch said casually. "We ran out of rice. She went out to buy more."
Badum. Badum. Badum.
The words echoed louder than they should have.
Tanaka flipped to a clean page, his hand unsteady.
"I'm going out for a walk."
Garitch glanced up. "Hey—don't push yourself if you're sick."
Tanaka was already turning away.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Badum. Badum. Badum.