"Tomori! I know you're in there!"
Anon didn't give up. She took a deep breath and shouted, "It's Anon! I brought you notes, and... and that bread you like! Won't you please open the door?"
Dead silence from within.
But when she'd pressed her ear to the door moments ago, she'd faintly heard the soft shuffle of slippers against floor. She almost would have thought Tomori really wasn't home otherwise.
"Damn it... why won't she open up..."
Anon dropped her hand, defeated.
Ever since that day in the music room, witnessing that traumatic scene, Tomori hadn't been back to school.
A whole week.
No phone calls, no texts, not even her LINE messages had been read.
Throughout the week, Anon had been consumed by regret.
Regretting why she'd dragged Tomori to the music room that day.
Regretting why she hadn't covered Tomori's eyes in that instant.
And regretting most of all... that she'd chosen to run, instead of taking Tomori with her.
"This is all that bastard's fault..."
Anon bit her lip, the image of that man sitting at the piano with that satisfied expression floating back into her mind.
Seiji Fujiwara.
Anon hadn't known who he was at first, but his face had seemed familiar.
After thinking about it later, she'd suddenly remembered. This man was the public figure who'd been making headlines recently!
"Bastard!" Anon clenched her fists. "Doing something like that, and he's considered a public figure?"
"They even call him 'sensei'?!"
"He's nothing but a beast in human clothing!"
She raged silently.
Anon looked at the firmly closed door before her and sighed heavily.
That naive girl Tomori, having witnessed such a scene, must be heartbroken.
Suddenly.
A low engine rumble shattered the neighborhood's quiet.
Then two blinding LED headlights cut through the twilight, illuminating the building's exterior wall.
Anon instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes.
Was that... a car?
And not just any car.
Even though Anon knew nothing about vehicles, the sleek silhouette, the midnight-black paint gleaming with an expensive luster, everything about it screamed wealth and extravagance.
The kind of luxury car you'd only see in financial news or footage of the ultra-rich, what was it doing here?
The car glided to a stop in front of the apartment building, parking less than five meters from Anon.
Anon stared blankly at the vehicle, an inexplicable sense of unease rising in her chest.
Click.
The rear door slowly opened.
A foot clad in polished leather shoes stepped out onto the concrete.
When the occupant stood fully upright, Anon sucked in a sharp breath.
A strikingly handsome young man.
He wore a dark gray bespoke casual suit, the collar of his inner shirt casually unbuttoned, his hair styled in a way that suited his personal aesthetic, a few strands falling across his forehead, adding a hint of roguishness to his already beautiful face.
Seiji Fujiwara?!
Seeing him, Anon felt her blood freeze for an instant.
She hadn't expected to encounter this man again.
And... why was he here?
Could it be...
While Anon was still reeling from shock, the front passenger door also opened.
A girl in Haneoka Girls' Academy's winter uniform stepped out.
Though sunglasses and a mask covered most of her face, that distinctive pale blue hair and that elegant bearing let Anon recognize her immediately.
Toyokawa-san!
Only, today's Sakiko was different from that day.
Her school uniform was pristine without a single wrinkle, an expensive cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck, a delicate handbag in her hand.
Though her expression was hidden, the way she stood beside that man... natural and intimate.
Seiji didn't immediately look up at the building. Instead, he turned, his gaze landing with amusement on Anon sitting on the steps.
Under his stare, Anon felt like a chick being watched by a hawk. Every hair on her body stood on end.
"Well."
Seiji smiled.
As if greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in ages. "Isn't this the... righteous young lady from that day?"
Anon shot to her feet, the movement so abrupt that the bag of bread in her arms fell to the ground.
But she couldn't care about that now.
"What are you two doing here?!"
Anon stared warily at Seiji and Sakiko, her voice sharp. "You're not welcome here! Leave!"
"Not welcome?"
Seiji raised an eyebrow, as if he'd heard something amusing.
He leisurely adjusted his cuffs and pointed at the detached house before them.
"Is this your home?"
"No..." Anon stammered, but quickly rallied. "This is Tomori's home! I'm Tomori's friend! And I know she absolutely doesn't want to see you!"
"Best friend, huh..."
Seiji looked moved as he nodded, then turned to Sakiko, who had remained silent beside him.
"Did you hear that, Sakiko? She says she's Tomori's friend."
His tone carried a hint of mockery. "And what about you? Former bandmate? Traitor? Or... the one who pushed Tomori into the abyss?"
Sakiko's body jolted.
Even through the sunglasses, Anon could sense Sakiko's momentary wavering.
"That..." Seeing Sakiko's reaction, the thought that "Sakiko was forced" bubbled up in Anon's mind again.
She instinctively tried to redirect her hostility toward Seiji. "Stop bullying Toyokawa-san!"
"Enough!"
A cold voice cut Anon off.
Not Seiji.
Sakiko.
Sakiko removed her sunglasses, her icy gaze fixed on Anon, her voice even colder. "Chihaya-san, this self-righteous sense of justice of yours is completely unnecessary."
"I wasn't forced, and I wasn't threatened. I came with... Seiji of my own free will. Because..."
She paused, seeming to suppress some emotion.
"Because only Seiji can solve Tomori's current problem. While you, all you can do is stand here like a fool pressing the doorbell and making noise."
"What..."
Anon froze. She hadn't expected Sakiko to rebuff her like this.
"Miss."
Seiji spoke with equal coldness. "You actually can't do anything. You have no ability to relieve her pain, no ability to give her a new home. You're standing guard here just to satisfy your own 'I'm doing something good' self-gratification."
"No... that's not..."
Anon's face went pale, her body trembling uncontrollably.
"Alright, enough catching up."
Seiji lost interest in teasing this little kitten further.
He turned and patted Sakiko's outer thigh, the gesture extremely suggestive.
"Go on, Sakiko."
He smiled. "Since this Miss won't move aside, I'll trouble you to clear the obstacle. We need... a quiet environment to talk."
Sakiko bit her lip.
Being treated like this in public filled her with shame, but under Seiji's gaze, she found it impossible to refuse.
"Understood."
Sakiko answered quietly.
Then she took a deep breath and walked to the security door.
"Chihaya-san, please move aside."
"No!" Anon spread her arms to block the doorway. "I won't let you in to hurt Tomori! She doesn't want to see you!"
"Doesn't want to see me?"
Sakiko looked at Anon, a flash of complicated pity in her eyes.
"Maybe... the one she doesn't want to see is you."
With that, Sakiko pulled a set of keys from her delicate handbag.
An old set of keys, even a cute little penguin keychain dangling from it.
Anon's eyes went wide.
Isn't that Tomori's spare key? Why... why does Toyokawa have it?
"How is this possible?" Anon stared at the keys in disbelief. "Tomori gave those to you? That's impossible... Tomori clearly doesn't want to see you..."
"There's something in this world called money, and something else called building management."
Seiji added lazily from behind. "If I wanted, I could buy this entire building. A single key, how hard could it be?"
Click.
While Anon was still stunned, Sakiko had already inserted the key into the lock.
With the turn of the mechanism, the iron door that Anon had knocked on countless times without response swung open easily.
Creak—
The door opened.
A wave of musty, stale air rushed out from within.
"See? Just like that."
Seiji smiled, stepping past the dumbfounded Anon and strolling into the entryway.
Sakiko followed close behind.
As she passed Anon, she paused for a moment, still not meeting Anon's eyes, just speaking in a low voice:
"Go home. This world... is far more complicated than you imagine."
With that, Sakiko also stepped inside.
Leaving Anon standing alone in the cold wind.
"How can this be happening..."
Anon covered her face, tears finally spilling over.
She didn't understand.
Why could the bad guys be so brazen?
Why had Sakiko become that kind of accomplice?
Why could Seiji Fujiwara so easily trample on others' dignity?
...
Tomori's home was a typical old-style apartment.
A narrow entryway, a hallway cluttered with odds and ends, and wallpaper that had begun to yellow.
Since her parents' deaths, this home had been visibly deteriorating.
The living room had thick curtains drawn, dim as night.
Only a small lamp in the corner cast a faint glow, barely illuminating the figure huddled in the corner of the couch.
Tomori.
She hugged her knees, her entire body curled into a tiny shadow, the lyric notebook she'd treasured like a gem scattered at her feet, crumpled and worn.
At the sound of the door opening, Tomori flinched like a startled small animal, jerking her head up.
In that moment, her eyes filled with terror, anticipation, avoidance... countless complex emotions intertwined.
"Who..."
Her voice was so hoarse it was nearly inaudible, clearly having gone a long time without speaking.
And when she saw clearly the two figures standing in the entryway, all those emotions froze into one stunned expression.
"Saki... ko?!"
Tomori's lips trembled. She'd even forgotten to breathe.
This was the person she'd thought about day and night. The one who'd saved her from loneliness. The one who, in the music room, had shattered her.
She'd imagined countless scenarios of their reunion.
Maybe Sakiko would come crying to apologize, saying she'd been forced?
Maybe Sakiko would collapse at her door, covered in wounds, begging for rescue?
But she'd never imagined it would be like this.
Here, now, Sakiko stood beside that tall man.
She'd removed her coat, revealing the form-fitting new uniform underneath. In the dim light, her skin still glowed pale, her expression somewhat stiff, but bearing no trace of coercion.
On the contrary.
When that man, Seiji Fujiwara, casually kicked off his shoes and handed his suit jacket to Sakiko—
Sakiko instinctively reached out with both hands to receive it, then smoothly hung it on the entryway coat rack.
The motion was too natural.
Natural as a couple who'd been living together for ages, or... a maid who'd grown completely accustomed to this kind of service.
"Tomori."
Seiji's voice shattered the silence.
He didn't seem at all awkward about being in someone else's home. He strode into the living room, his gaze sweeping over the scattered notebook on the floor before finally landing on the girl huddled on the couch.
"Haven't seen you in a few days, and you've let yourself go quite a bit."
Seiji sat directly in the single armchair across from Tomori, crossing his legs, his posture as if he were the master of this place.
"Fuji... wara... Seiji..."
Tomori shrank back instinctively. Toward this man, she felt a fear etched into her bones.
"Why hide?"
Seiji smiled, beckoning to Sakiko who still stood in the entryway. "Sakiko, come here."
Sakiko stiffened for a moment.
In front of her former bandmate, especially under Tomori's innocent gaze, showing submission to this man filled her with immense shame.
But she knew all too well the consequences of defiance.
The five million debt... and more importantly, these past few days together, her body and mind had already...
Sakiko took a deep breath, maintaining outward calm as she walked to Seiji's side.
"Sit."
A simple command.
Sakiko bit her lower lip. She didn't sit in the chair beside him, but obediently perched on the edge of Seiji's armrest, her body tilting slightly toward him.
A posture of complete dependence.
"Tomori, look."
Seiji reached out, naturally wrapping an arm around Sakiko's waist, his fingers even rubbing gently against her waist through the fabric.
Sakiko couldn't help but let out a soft sound, a faint blush rising on her face, but she didn't push away. Instead, as if from habit, she leaned into his shoulder.
"This is the hell you imagined."
Seiji watched Tomori, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery. "Well? Does it look painful?"
BOOM—
The scene struck Tomori's heart like a thunderbolt.
No pain.
No struggle.
Sakiko... was willing!
The Sakiko who'd once been gentle and bright, pure as moonlight, now nestled in Seiji's arms like a docile cat.
"Why?"
Tomori's tears burst forth. "Why did this happen... Sakiko, you were light, you saved me..."
"What are you going to do?"
Seiji cut her off coolly. "Call the police? Or scream and shout like the pink-haired girl outside?"
He laughed softly, gripping Sakiko's chin and forcing her to face Tomori.
"Tell her, Sakiko. Were you forced?"
Sakiko's lashes fluttered violently.
She looked at Tomori across from her, a bitter ache rising in her heart, but more than that, a fierce resolve born of giving up entirely.
Since she's already seen my ugliest side.
Since there's no going back.
Then let me drag Tomori down with me.
If Tomori can... maybe she'll understand the joy of sinking into the mire?
And if she were the only one who'd fallen, she'd be a freak. But if Tomori fell too, they'd be the same.
This twisted psychology dissolved the last of Sakiko's hesitation.
"It wasn't forced, Tomori."
Sakiko spoke. Her voice was soft but each word was clear. "No one made me do this. It was... my own choice."
"I don't believe it!" Tomori wept, trembling as she looked at Sakiko. "It's impossible! Sakiko was light, the one who saved me!"
"Light?"
Sakiko laughed as if she'd heard a joke, her lips curving with derision. "Tomori, you're too naive. In this world, light has to be bought with money. So does dignity."
She turned her head, gazing at Seiji with complex emotions swirling in her eyes.
"And... Seiji gave me something I never had before. The... relief of not having to think, not having to bear the weight of pressure, of simply existing as his woman."
"You're lying..." Tomori shook her head, but her voice had grown weak.
"You don't believe me?"
Seiji suddenly smiled.
He released his arm from around Sakiko and sat up slightly straighter.
"Then let me show you proof."
He didn't do anything too extreme. He simply lifted his hand and pointed at the scarf around Sakiko's neck.
"Take it off, Sakiko."
Sakiko froze for a moment, then understood. Her face flushed crimson, all the way to her ears.
But still, she slowly raised her hands and unwrapped the scarf.
As it slid away.
Her pale, slender neck was exposed to the air.
"How can this be?!" Tomori's eyes went wide with shock.
There, on that white throat, were several clearly visible red marks. Hickeys and bite marks. And just below her collarbone, though it had faded somewhat, the impression of teeth was unmistakable.
These marks were like stamps, declaring Seiji's ownership.
"No... don't..."
Tomori looked away, unable to watch.
The visceral impact was more devastating than any words could be.
They told her plainly: Sakiko and Seiji had done those things. More than once. Intensely.
"You see, Tomori."
Sakiko rewrapped the scarf, her voice returning to calm, as if the person just displayed hadn't been her. "Right now, I am... Seiji's person."
She rose and walked to stand before Tomori.
The "light" who once needed Tomori to look up to still towered above, but her aura had transformed. No longer gentle and bright radiance, but bewitching allure.
"So stop looking at me with those eyes."
Sakiko extended her hand, wanting to touch Tomori's face, but stopped halfway, as if afraid of dirtying her. "And stop expecting that girl Chihaya can save you. She doesn't understand what we're going through."
"We..."
Tomori caught that word sharply.
She raised her head, tear-blurred eyes fixed on Sakiko.
"That's right. Us."
Seiji stood as well. He walked up behind Sakiko, both hands resting on her shoulders, his voice full of enticement. "Tomori, you're in a lot of pain, aren't you? Feeling abandoned? Feeling like your world has collapsed?"
"The truth is, it's not that complicated."
"The reason Sakiko can survive is because she found a new way to live. Since being human is so exhausting, so easy to get hurt, why not try a different way?"
He extended a hand toward Tomori.
That hand was long, powerful, its palm seeming to hold the key to another world.
"Want to try?"
"Since Sakiko is here. Since you don't want to lose her."
"Then... join us."
Tomori stared blankly at that hand, then looked at Sakiko under his control.
Sakiko said nothing. She just turned her head away, gazing elsewhere.
Not stopping him. Not encouraging him.
As if indifferent.
Outside the door, Anon's unwilling pounding and shouting could faintly be heard: "Tomori! Open the door! Tomori!"
But the sound seemed distant and powerless.
In this sealed, dim living room, the air seemed to thicken.
A seed called "depravity" was quietly sprouting in Tomori's broken heart.
She wanted to...