I ran up the little garden towards Hitomi & Akira's place. Her father & brother insisted that Hitomi live at home until we got married. I guess it's fair enough. After all, she's only 21, grew up in a small town. It would be awkward for us to live together.

I was a little weirded out when my first knock went unanswered. She'd blush if I said it but I know but Hitomi usually waits by the door on the days she knows I'll be visiting and today's visit was planned. When the door finally opened on my third knock, it was Akira. I didn't understand the stony look in his cold dark eyes. I could hear two female voices in the background, one sobbing and one angry. Hitomi and her mother. Akira still hadn't said anything.

"Hey," I tried, "Is it something serious?" I never had been one to beat around the bush. It was easiest to just come out and say things out right.

"I want to kill you right now for what you did to my sister," Akira growled back. A loud wail from Hitomi punctuated his statement.

I was speechless. "… I don't understand."

"Akira!" An older man appeared behind Akira. Their dad. "Throw this scum off our property right now."

"Gladly," replied my co-worker and friend. Then before anything, he was roughly shoving me out of their yard and out onto the garden. My protests went unheard.

I trudged back to my apartment, mentally exhausted and bewildered. Things were great yesterday. Me, Akira & the other guys from work had gone out bowling for a while. I'd talked to Hitomi on the phone and she'd sounded cheerful. There was no hint of this coldness.

I didn't figure out what it was until the next day. I'd gone to the little league game to get myself out of my own head. And the coldness which Akira had shown me yesterday was amplified 10x by people I considered my friends. And then slowly, the whispers reached me and everything made sense.

The town knew. One of the soccer-moms had been snooping about me and somehow had come to find out the truth. They knew what I did to Kazu. After that, I went straight home, feeling dead inside.

I sat on my bed, totally disoriented. My mind was blank, and I laid in bed for the rest of the weekend. Monday morning, I didn't go to work. No one called to find out why. It was Monday evening by the time I was functional and thinking again. My life here was over. My life in Odaiba was over. And any place I might go to in the future, I'd always have to live in fear. There was only one option left for me.

I dialed the number that was imprinted inside my brain.

"Hello," his voice was soft; he answered on the first ring.

"Hi," I replied, knowing I sounded exhausted. I didn't follow it up with anything else and he didn't ask any other questions. After a moment, he spoke again.

"I'll send a plane to pick you up. Be ready in an hour." I hung up the phone and let myself fall on my back. I was taking the "easy" way out. I knew that – this way required no effort, led to no rejection. And I couldn't handle more rejection right now.

Did that make me a coward? Should I have tried to explain things? But how could I explain all those news paper clipping with the pictures of Kazu laying in the hospital bed, bandaged tightly with blood staining his white hospital gown? What good did it do that I had no criminal record when the articles called me 'evil monster'?

And could I go back to living with my parents? Ask them to shamelessly support me in their old age even while I was a young, strong son? Or should I move onto another town, hide away again – stop myself from forming any relationships? Try to go unnoticed so no one would talk about me?

The answer was immediate and complete. I couldn't do it again. Not after building a new life for so long only to have to it squashed out in the span of hours. I'm broken. I give up. Yamato Ishida has won.

So when Matt's butler came to my door driving some expensive limosine, I walked out of my life with just an album in my hand – Hitomi, my family, the little league team, my crew at the construction site. The memories would be all I'd take with me.

I have no idea how long the journey took – when the limo stopped in front of the small plane, I didn't ask any questions. The pilot must've mentioned sometime during our flight where we were headed but it really didn't matter. I waved away the stewardess when she asked if I wanted to change my clothes before meeting with Matt. Some indefinite amount of time later, the plane landed at another airfield, this time against the backdrop of some big city. Then I was herded into another car. The bright lights, the noisy crowds, none of it registered. I'd brought the album with me but I didn't open it once. My mind was blank – the past was gone, the future ahead looked like nothing. I briefly wondered whether he'd still want me even when I was like this. The thought of being rejected made me laugh. It would be fitting wouldn't it? Maybe I was so far gone that even he wouldn't want me.

The doorman ushered us into the fancy building and then I was directed onto the elevator. The operator kept it professional as he took me up to the pent-house. Was he wondering how a rough-neck like me came to be invited into such an upscale place? Not that I cared what he thought. After all, the world had shown me my only place in life was as Matt's whore.