[Renji's POV—That Night, Alone in his Apartment]
The lights of the city filtered weakly through my thin curtains, casting long, restless shadows across the room. They flickered with every passing car. Every gust of winter wind. Every breath I took didn't feel like mine.
I sat on the edge of my bed, still in my café uniform, apron half untied, fingers trembling faintly as I stared at the card lying in my palm.
Hayato Kurosawa, CEO—Kurosawa Corporate
His name looked unreal. Too elegant. Too clean. Too far above the life I was barely holding together.
And yet—My thumb brushed the embossed letters again. And the moment I did, my heart thudded—once, loud, sharp. The same rhythm it made when Alvar whispered my name for the first time.
I shut my eyes tightly.
"No… this isn't about him," I whispered into the dimness. "This is about me. Surviving."
