Chapter 1 — Neon Nights
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Tokyo, 11:49 PM
Rain slicked the black pavement like glass. Neon signs flickered red and violet against puddles that reflected broken lives and hidden pleasures. The city pulsed like a living thing—seductive, merciless, and always hungry.
Yuuto Hayami lit a cigarette beside his parked matte-black Mercedes-Benz, the soft click of the lighter breaking the hum of the night. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke rise, just like his boredom.
Nineteen. College freshman. And rich beyond sense.
He wasn't looking for love.
He was looking for something that made him feel.
The street was alive with color—girls in micro-dresses swayed under umbrellas, flashing plastic smiles to lonely men. Barkers called out to him.
> "Onii-san! First time discount!"
"Young prince, we have new girls tonight!"
"VIP suite just for you!"
He ignored them all. He wasn't here for the usual. He wanted something different.
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He entered a quiet, tucked-away lounge named "Velvet Veil." It didn't advertise. No signs, no music. Just a black door in an alley, guarded by silence.
Inside: candlelight, crimson velvet walls, and a scent like roses wilted in wine. A stage. A bar. A woman.
She sat alone. Black dress hugging every inch of her pale skin. Long silver-white hair tied loosely, cascading down like silk.
And eyes—deep, red, glowing faintly beneath long lashes. Like dying embers.
She didn't smile. She stared. Right into him.
Yuuto blinked. He didn't usually hesitate—but something about her wasn't just hot. It was dangerous.
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He walked over anyway.
> "Did I die and go to hell?" he asked, sliding into the booth beside her.
She didn't look at him. "You're late."
"Late for what?"
"Your curse."
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Up close, she was unreal. Her skin shimmered unnaturally smooth. Her breath was sweet like sake and sorrow. Her fingers were wrapped in silk gloves.
> "You're not from around here," he muttered.
"I've been here longer than you've been alive," she whispered.
He chuckled, a little unease beneath it. "I'm Yuuto. And you are?"
> "Aika," she said softly. "Aika Tsukishiro."
She turned to him. Her red eyes flickered like they saw more than just his face. She reached out and pressed a finger to his lips. Her glove was warm.
> "If I touch you without these," she said slowly, "you'll never wake up again."
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Yuuto leaned in closer, like it was a game. "Then touch me."
For a second, she did nothing. Then, her lips barely parted.
> "You don't want what I am."
She stood and walked away. Slow. Hips swaying. He watched the curve of her body, hypnotized. Something inside him stirred—not lust. Not quite. It was... fear?
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He returned to his car. The streets were still alive.
But when he glanced into the rear-view mirror...
...Aika was sitting in his back seat.
Her red eyes met his through the reflection.
> "I told you," she whispered in his ear, though her lips didn't move.
"You're already mine."