— Chapter 1: Thursday, January 1st, Late —

When Oda Samegawa had taken a job working security for the Tokyo subway system, he had thought the free rides would be the best perk the job had to offer. That a desk surrounded by switches and screens all showing basically the same thing could possibly be a kink for someone as hot as this had never entered his wildest imagination. Yet here he was, pounding away at the sexiest woman he had ever seen.

Sitting on the control panel with her legs spread wide, he held her ass in place and thrust into her. His head held firmly against her neck, he couldn't help inhaling her lightly perfumed body as he grunted with exertion, his face smothered in her hair. She cooed delicately as he got closer and closer.

Oda shut his eyes tight as he tensed up, on the precipice of climax. Then, without warning, the woman suddenly shoved him away from her, denying him his release. With his trousers hanging limply from below his knees, Oda stumbled back against the wall, his arms flailing at his sides as he struggled not to fall over.

"That's enough, thank you," said the woman, hopping down from the control panel and pulling her dress down over her thighs. "I'll see myself out." Without another word, the woman left, just as casually as could be—like they hadn't just been fucking for the last five or ten minutes.

Dumbfounded, Oda stood there, bracing himself against the wall as he tried to regain his center of balance. He gaped at the retreating woman as she stepped past him and out the door, the clicking of her heels growing fainter with each step. She combed her fingers through her hair as she walked away with her ass swaying behind her, hypnotizing him like some magician's charm. With every step she took, he felt the blood throb in his swollen cock, his balls aching with unfulfilled orgasm.

"What the fuck…" he muttered dimly, as the peculiarity of what had just happened settled on him. "She just fucking left… God damn… I was so close…" Forlornly, he stared at the now empty hallway inside the subway station, lamenting how the best night of his life had just slipped through his fingers and out of the station. Holding his wet dick in his hands, he shut the door to the security booth and looked around for a plan B. With a sigh, Oda Samegawa took a seat in his swivel chair, pulling a trash bin a little nearer as he prepared to rub one out before getting back to work. It was embarrassing, but nowhere near as embarrassing as when, in the morning, he would have to explain to his boss why he'd failed to notice the dead body on the tracks.

— — — Saturday, January 3rd, Evening — — —

With the opening of the tavern door, the cheery jingle of a small bell cut its way through the din of the chattering clientele and low-volume 80s rock music, finding the ears of a few expectant patrons and their gracious host. Heads snapped in anticipation of the newly arrived. "Amamiya-kun, you made it!"

"I promised I'd be back in time for tonight's shift, didn't I?" said Ren, lifting the hinged section of the bar and stepping behind it. He set his bag down on a low counter and reached for an apron hanging on the wall. With a meow, a small black head popped out of his bag, followed by a pair of paws and an arched back, stretching, grateful to finally be out of the claustrophobic satchel.

"You did say you'd be back, but I was, uh… doubtful that you'd actually be able to tear yourself away from that beauty of yours." The older man set a small dish in front of the cat and scratched it behind its ears. "Hi Mona-chan, welcome back." The cat allowed the attention as it bent toward the morsels on offer.

"O' ye of little faith," said Ren, tying his apron behind his back. "Hanzo-san, have I ever missed a shift?"

Inosuke Hanzo, proprietor of the Brothers in Arms tavern, shook his head agreeably. "No, Amamiya-kun, you haven't. I didn't honestly doubt you would return, I just can't understand how you could. They way you talk about that girlfriend of yours, it's a wonder you don't just quit school altogether to go be with her permanently. But then, I suppose you don't have much more school left at this point anyway."

Ren smiled to himself, his hands moving over the familiar coffee-making equipment with a finesse only earned through diligent practice and refined muscle memory. Only one more long break to go, he thought, as he recalled how she felt in his arms as they embraced on the platform, the sound of his approaching train echoing in his ears. This was the last time he would be letting her hand slip through his fingers as he crossed the threshold from platform to subway car.

Ren had been working at the Brothers in Arms tavern for almost as long as Makoto had been in Tokyo, which had been just about two years, ever since she graduated from the Academy. The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department had snapped her up immediately, leaving Ren to live alone in her house—well, alone with Morgana, who was at least better company than most cats. Though his scholarship awarded him a housing stipend, it was nowhere close to the amount of rent that Sae's house would be going for if she hadn't been letting him stay there. In spite of that, though, Sae had let him remain there even after her sister had moved back home. Ren had taken the job at the Brothers in Arms to help him pay a fairer share—not that she'd asked for it, he just didn't want to feel like a leech.

The tavern, located south of campus, was about a twenty-minute bike ride from home—about five minutes longer than it needed to be, but that's how long it took Ren to get there. The most direct route between the two points of interest took Ren too close to the former dean's house, and the second-most direct route meant passing through the park where Ren had collapsed after nearly being shot to death by said dean—Ren gave both locations a wide berth whenever possible. The tavern itself was like something out of a 50s-era crime drama: A long, mirrored wall on one side, lined with glassware and bottles of amber fluid; on the wall opposite, booth after booth of dimly lit tables. At the end of the counter and around the corner was a smokey room full of card tables, billiards, and dart boards. Everything about the place screamed 'grisled old war veteran', yet in spite of that, it catered mainly to young male cadets at the Academy. Why so few females came to the Brothers in Arms was anyone's guess. After all, it was only a name.

Another jingle of the bell signaled the arrival of a familiar set of Saturday night regulars. The watering hole of choice for the of-age students at the Academy of Justice and Policing, it was no wonder that Ren's friend group had taken to gathering there on Saturday nights—and it didn't hurt that they enjoyed a friend discount at the bar.

"And the prodigal son returns!" called Jiro, arms outstretched in a warm greeting. "'Bout time you got back—the other guy doesn't brew the coffee the way I like it." Following behind him was the rest of their Saturday night posse: Takeshi Kenta, another fourth-year from Jiro's bo staff group, Daisuke Ono, a third-year in the Blades cohort Ren was overseeing, and John Irish—an American exchange student who studied axes, though he was really only interested in firearms.

"Hi guys, it's good to be back," replied Ren in an even tone, his hands carefully working the boiler on the counter in front of him.

"Liar," replied Jiro derisively. "I'm sure this is the last place you want to be right now."

"Not the last place," said Ren, taking Jiro's meaning, "just not the first."

"I'm sure," said Jiro. The boys sidled up to the counter and took their seats on a series of adjacent bar stools. "I'll have the usual."

"Coffee's already brewing for you," said Ren. "John? Coffee for you too?" John wasn't yet old enough to drink alcohol legally, even in Japan.

"Yes please, coffee good," replied the American in stilted Japanese.

"Just whiskey for me," said Daisuke, and Takeshi signaled Ren to make it two. "I don't go in for all that cream bullshit like Jiro. Irish coffee is for wankers—isn't that right, John?"

The stout Bostonian shook his head. "You confuse Irish, American, and British," said John, preparing to educate his friends from across the pond. "My name 'Irish', my country American, and 'wanker' British. But yes, cream for wankers—that is called 'Irish coffee' is offensive."

"I think they call it that because it's coffee—with booze," said Ren, not sure who he was sticking up for. Was it a compliment to the Irish that what set their coffee apart was the alcohol content? Did the alcohol make Jiro less of a wanker? Probably neither of these things was true.

"Say what you will about my beverage choices," said Jiro, holding his head up proudly. "Irish coffee is delicious—and I have no shame about what I do with myself when I'm alone in the dark."

Daisuke rolled his eyes derisively. "Or alone in the daylight, or alone in the bathroom, or when you're not alone at all, and Naomi is sleeping right next to you…"

"One time I did that!" cried Jiro, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"One time you tell us," said John, before pivoting back to Ren. "Ren, how Makoto is?"

"She's good," said Ren, filling a tumbler with ice—Daisuke and Takeshi liked their whiskey on the rocks. "She put off a lot of work these past couple weeks, so she's working tonight. It was fantastic getting to spend winter break with her though."

"She still working piddly cases?" asked Daisuke.

Ren cocked his head, considering Daisuke's question. "Well, sort of. It's not as if she has the seniority to complain, but she is a bit bored, yeah…"

"Things will look up for her," said Jiro. "When enough people see her perfectly written case files and undying fidelity to procedure, she'll be promoted in no time."

The corner of Ren's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Perhaps, he thought. Maybe he was too young to be this cynical, but he knew that doing things by the book wasn't strictly how the police liked to operate. Every police department had its share of folks who preferred to do whatever was convenient, and as fondly as he remembered his time in the Second Chances program working with the Tokyo PD, he knew it wasn't immune to that phenomenon. "I'm sure she'll make her mark," he said finally, pushing two whiskey tumblers across the bar to Daisuke and Takeshi.

"Well, you're pretty much guaranteed a job there after you graduate, so I'm sure that will spice things up for her, yeah?" teased Jiro, giving Ren an exaggerated wink.

"If they can wait that long," said Daisuke, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Just a couple more months," said Takeshi, raising his glass. "What're you two going to do after the three of us graduate?"

"Unless extension, I go back to Boston," said John. "Poor Daisuke sad and lonely."

"Nah, either way, I'll keep him company—I'm not going anywhere," said Jiro. "I may be graduating, but my life is here. My family isn't that far away, and I plan to stick with Naomi. We have a cat and everything—that shit's for life."

"Speaking of cats, thanks for checking up on Morgana while I was away," said Ren. Curled up on the counter next to his empty dish, Morgana purred contentedly.

"Ah, no problem. He's a weird fucking cat, but he's kind of cool. He and I would hang out together a bit when I would go over there—turns out he's a pretty good listener."

Stopping his purring, Morgana meowed shrilly and began aggressively licking his balls. Ren choked, spilling a few drops of coffee as he was preparing to pour for Jiro and John. "Yeah, uh, he is a good listener… just, you know… don't overburden him with details…" he said, sliding the last two drinks across the bar to his friends. He poured one extra coffee for himself, black. Unless there was something to celebrate, Ren didn't generally drink alcohol on the job.

"Anyway," said Jiro, "if you should need a cat sitter again sometime, just let me know."

"Thanks," said Ren, taking a sip of his coffee. For the next couple hours, the five friends relaxed together, drinking and catching one another up on their winter break goings on, Ren only occasionally being dragged away to wait on other customers.

The boys played darts until they were too tipsy not to risk hitting the wall, and they eventually called it a night. Daisuke and Takeshi lived on the south side of the Academy district, not far from the Brothers in Arms, so they simply walked home when they were too tired to hang out any longer. John lived in one of the on-campus dormitories, but walked home with Daisuke, prepared to do a little couch surfing for the night. Jiro decided to stay to the end of Ren's shift, so he pulled out his phone and checked his texts as the others departed. Only barely too drunk to walk straight as they made their way home, Ren's other friends waved their goodbyes and were out the door.

It was past midnight already, and the bar would be closing soon. It had been a very long day for Ren, who was still feeling a little wistful at having had to part from Makoto earlier that day, so he was sort of glad when the others decided to head out. They were good guys, but their friendship was pretty superficial compared to what he had with Jiro, and he didn't really have it in him to enjoy small talk at the moment. Jiro, on the other hand, could sit at a barstool and play with his phone, all the while Ren going about his job, and neither would feel like they were letting the other one down for not being entertaining enough.

As natural as the quiet was, Ren still didn't mind when his friend decided to ask a sincere question. "So tell me honestly, how does it feel to be home?"

Ren sighed, wiping a shot glass to a spotless shine as he mentally evaluated just what exactly 'home' was for him. "It fucking sucks, Jiro."

Jiro nodded, looking down at his hands folded up on the counter. "You guys have been doing the long-distance thing for almost two years now. You must be pros at it by this point, right? I mean, most long distance relationships, if they're gonna fizzle out, would have fizzled out by now. So you must have a good thing going, right?"

"It's not that. We're perfect—I have no fear whatsoever that we're growing apart. It's just, the closer I get to never having to say goodbye again, the harder it is to say it when I have to. I know this was the last time—I just want to fast forward to the end of the semester so I can get on with the rest of my life. These last couple months are just…" Ren paused to release a long sigh, "… going to feel like an eternity."

"I don't blame you. I'm going to miss you though, when you're gone… You're the best friend I've ever had. The others are cool and all, but, well… I fucking dragged your shot-up, unconscious ass out of the bushes when the rest of the world thought you were a goddamned serial killer. I took down a raging, cro-magnon muscle man to protect you from certain doom—we've gone to war together, man, and there's simply no replacing you."

Ren smiled warmly, looking down at the glass he was still needlessly polishing. He felt exactly the same way. Phantom Thieves aside, there were few people who had stepped up for Ren in the way that Jiro had, and Ren was scared that if he left Jiro here while he jetted off to his other life back in Tokyo, that he would be saying goodbye to a truly wonderful friend. If Jiro had been in his life back when he was a student at Shujin, Ren was pretty sure Jiro would've had a Persona of his own. It stung Ren a little that Jiro was ignorant of that entire part of his life, and he sometimes found himself wishing that Jiro could have been there with them, could've experienced the Metaverse, too. He was confident that Jiro would have kicked its ass.

"Want a ride home? Naomi's on her way over to pick me up," said Jiro, jiggling his phone at Ren to show he'd been texting with her.

"Nah, that's alright," answered Ren. "I've got my bike with me, and I could use the cool night air on my face to help me relax."

"You'd rather bike home in the dark than accept a ride? It's freezing outside… You'd have to really hate yourself to turn me down right now."

Ren smiled. He didn't hate himself, and he didn't hate his life. In fact, his life was almost perfect—it was just moving too slowly at the moment. He felt like a little kid with ten thousand yen burning a hole in his pocket, showing up to the toy store just a few hours before it opened. On the other side of the locked glass doors, staring him in the face, was the video game he'd been waiting two years to play. He had everything to look forward to, but waiting for the doors to finally open was torture.

The tavern door opened, and Naomi's bright, smiling face popped through. She was dressed in her cop uniform, fresh from a night of policing the Utsunomiya streets. Though, technically, she had graduated from the Academy and held credentials to be doing higher-level work, due to her lackluster academic standing, she'd had to accept a job as a beat cop. However, in spite of how mundane or inconsequential her job was most of the time, she never looked tired or unhappy. "Ren-Ren! Happy new year!" she called, greeting him affectionately. "How was Tokyo?"

"It was fantastic, thank you. And happy new year to you too. Catch any drunks tonight?"

"Oh, only a handful more than normal," she said, pausing momentarily to return a kiss from Jiro, who had met her at the door. "Most folks do their celebrating night of—it's just college kids with extra booze lying around that get drunk the Saturday after New Year's."

"Anyone give you a hard time, sweetie?" asked Jiro.

"Once their brains catch up to the fact that I'm a cop, and I'm not trying to flirt with them, they get a little salty, but it's nothing I can't handle." Naomi pulled her nightstick out of its baton ring and gave it a twirl. It wasn't exactly like a pair of tonfa, but it was close, and she preferred it over her sidearm any day.

"I know I shouldn't wish for this," said Ren, "but one of these days, I'd love to see you lay waste to a bunch of drunk, horny teenagers." Hiding her smile behind her hand, Naomi couldn't help but chuckle.

"You sound like such an old man right now," said Jiro. "'Serves those whipper snappers right for drinking on a school night—and git offa my lawn!'" he teased, using his best old-man voice. "That's you," he said, emphasizing his statement with a stiffly pointed index finger.

Ren smirked, giving Jiro the stink eye.

"How's Mako-chan? Good as ever?" asked Naomi.

"Of course," said Ren. "As grown up and put together as she's ever been."

"Did you see Emiko?" she asked, hopeful.

Ren shook his head. "She left the day before I arrived to go home to her folks' place in Sendai. She gets back tomorrow."

"Suspicious timing," teased Jiro. "It's almost like she was trying to avoid you."

"I made the same joke, but Makoto assured me that it was coincidence. I got to see a few of my old friends and acquaintances while I was down there, but that's it. No Emiko."

"Bummer," said Naomi, pouting. "I miss her so much. I'm sure she's crushing it in med school, but I'm still sad she didn't stick around here."

"I hear all good things about how she's doing," said Ren, nodding his head affirmatively. "I have an old doctor friend who part-times in the same university hospital where she'll be assisting physicians. They've never met, but I asked my friend if she'd heard of her, and after doing a little curious poking around, she said she turned up nothing but flattering reviews. She's expected to be one of the top students at the university hospital this year."

"That's my Emi," said Naomi, beaming. "Anyway, can we give you a ride home? Your shift is just about up, isn't it?" she asked.

"I already offered, and he said 'no'," said Jiro. "Says he'd rather 'feel the cool night air on his face'…" he added, mockingly.

Naomi frowned, cocking her head sympathetically. "Oh, Ren-Ren… Are you depressed?"

Ren shook his head and looked down at the counter, wiping it with the rag he'd been holding. "I'm fine, really. I really would just prefer to bike, that's all. Besides, my tires would probably get the inside of your car dirty."

"Excuses are like assholes," said Jiro, not bothering to finish the rest of the saying.

"Hey, my asshole smells like roses, and so do my excuses," replied Ren.

Jiro leaned to the side, exaggeratedly looking past Ren to the cat still lounging on the counter. "Can you vouch for that, Mona?" he called, just loudly enough that a couple of lingering patrons gave him a side-eye. "Does his asshole smell like roses? How about delicious, delicious sushi?" Morgana meowed emphatically in reply.

"He says to keep him out of it," said Ren.

The couple chuckled, and linked arms as they turned to leave, signaling their resignation. "Okay, well, don't go veering off any bridges on your way home, Mister Depression. Two and a half months. That's all you have left to wait before you see her again."

"I promise to be careful, Dad," said Ren sarcastically.

"That's what I like to hear, son. See ya," Jiro added, with a curt wave.

"G'night Ren," said Naomi. "Get home safe."

"I will," said Ren, sending the two of them off with a polite nod.

— — — Saturday, January 3rd, Late — — —

The gravel under his tires made a soft crunching noise as he rolled up to the back door of the home Ren had once shared with Makoto. Leaning his bike up against the back of the house, he fished in his pocket for his keys and unlocked the door.

Stepping inside, Ren flipped a couple light switches, turning off the back porch light and lighting up the dining room past the kitchen instead. He set his satchel on the counter and Morgana crawled out, hopping to the floor with a meow.

"You're tired?" said Ren incredulously. "I'm the one who walked around all morning, rode a train, then worked a full shift at a bar before biking home in the freezing cold. I'm the one who should be exhausted, not you."

Ren pulled off his jacket and hung it on the rack by the front door. He'd been back to the house in between getting back from the train station and going to work, but he'd been on autopilot and hadn't really taken the time to survey things. Now, in the quiet of the late night, just the light from above the dining room table to illuminate his modest home, the quiet emptiness of the house settled in, and he recalled the feeling of Makoto's arms wrapped around him from earlier that day. He closed his eyes, trying to transport himself back there. Silently, patiently, Morgana watched him.

Ren took a deep breath and reopened his eyes. Next to the front door was another set of light switches that controlled the dining room, so he flicked them off, making his way to the bedroom by the light coming in from the streetlamps outside. Morgana had his own private setup in the living room, but for tonight, he followed Ren into his bedroom and hopped onto the bed.

Ren walked into the en-suite bathroom and shut the door, emerging a few minutes later having brushed his teeth and completed the rest of his nightly rituals. Morgana watched him change into his nightclothes and climb into bed, only to reach for his phone and unlock it. Morgana meowed.

"Just checking my texts," said Ren. Before leaving the bar, he'd seen that, at some point during his shift, Makoto had texted him a simple "Off work. Text me when you're home". While he was packing up to go, he'd replied with "Getting on my bike", and was anticipating something back from her. As expected, while he'd pedaled his way home, she'd replied: "K, good. Talk soon". Knowing that they would be communicating in real time, any moment now, made him feel lighter.

You still up? he asked, knowing the answer.

Of course I am
I wanted to make sure to talk to you some more before going to bed, so I've been keeping myself busy

I appreciate that
I've had you in my head all night

:)
I love you, Ren

I love you too
I look forward to not having say goodbye again

Me too

So, did you get a lot of work done after I left?

Yeah, I guess

How'd it go?

:P
Straightforward
Kinda boring

=O
[shocked face]
Makoto Niijima, *bored*?

;)
Stop it

So what have they got you doing, exactly?

They asked me to compile the annual summary report of cases
Raw numbers and percent totals of murders, suicides, larcenies, rapes, that sort of thing…
Just involves combing through the database using various search terms, and putting it together in a presentation for the department
Pretty boilerplate stuff

Ren screwed up his face. Perhaps he was wrong, but this sounded like something a secretary could be doing. No wonder she was bored. For her sake, he tried not to focus on that.

So is Tokyo the den of sin that everyone says it is?

If by sin, you mean stuff like prostitution, then yes, probably
But as far as violent crime goes, it's one of the safest cities in the world

The more you know
So just how murdery *is* Tokyo, then?

As expected, Makoto was able to produce a precise figure almost instantly:
We had 105 murders last year

Top marks, Niijima

I guess, but I still don't really know what those numbers mean
Like, is 100 murders a *lot* for Tokyo, or a little, or what
I mean, I assume that the reason to compile this information is to look for *trends*, right?
So I started digging back into previous years' stats

Ever the over-achiever
And did you find an answer to your question?

Not really
Well, I answered it for *murders*
And that answer is yes, 100 is typical
It was way down during the pandemic, but after going back up, it has more or less plateaued to pre-pandemic levels

What about suicides?

?
Is there a specific reason that you're asking?

Not really
Well, sort of
When I saw Tae before new year's, she was talking about what a hard year this has been for her
One of her old friends killed himself, apparently out of the blue
So my mind just wandered there. Made me think about suicides
Sorry if that was a weird non sequitur

No problem, makes sense
Unlike murder, suicides were way *up* during the pandemic, but have been slowly dropping since then
Not that I got that far with my comparisons tonight, it's just what I remember hearing

Yeah, I heard that too
The pandemic was a rough time for a lot of people

Yeah
Though we seem to have much more of a suicide problem than a murder problem on our hands, just generally

That's been true for forever though
All of Japan is like that
We had to come up with special words for different *kinds* of suicides, after all
Lest we get them confused…

Lol
Sad but true
Anyway, I don't know how this year's suicides stack up against previous years…
I'm still digging
It's what I was working on all evening, just to pass the time

'Just to pass the time'?
And when do you need to have the actual, finished presentation part of this assignment done?

I have a week
I can do a little extra-curricular research in the meantime

You're going to do extra credit before the actual assignment is finished and turned in…?
I can't tell if that's out of character or not…

Ha ha :)
Don't worry, dad, I'll get my homework done, scout's honor
I promise I won't let my for-fun murder research get in the way of my for-work murder research

I should hope not
Anyway…
We did such a good job *not* talking about work the whole time I was with you

Yes, we were alarmingly preoccupied, weren't we? ;)

*cough*
Indeed

Ren glanced at the clock. It was almost two in the morning, and he was exhausted. He didn't want to stop talking to Makoto, but he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

It was as if Makoto could sense the problem, just from the short lull in texting.

Is it time for bed?

The ping from his phone made him jerk himself out of nodding off with his phone in his hand. He swyped out a defeated response:

Sigh, probably
I'm fucking tired

Me too
But I'm glad I got to talk to you a bit more today
Your texts make me smile
Just a couple more months

12 weeks, not that I'm counting or anything

You mean you're not counting the *days*? ;)

84
But I only got that from multiplying
I don't love you *that* much…

Lol
You're a dick ;)
Get some sleep
And tell Morgana I said hi

"She says 'hi'," said Ren, immediately upon reading Makoto's text. Morgana's ears twitched in acknowledgment.

He says hi back
He's looking forward to coming home too

I know he is
It was sweet that he elected to stay there, rather than come back and visit alongside you
But the privacy was nice

I know
I owe him some fatty tuna
Anyway, good night

Good night, Ren
We'll talk again soon

We will
I love you

I love you too
Good night

Ren watched as Makoto's text avatar grayed itself out. Dropping his phone to his chest, he breathed a deep sigh before finally pulling off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. Reaching over to his right, he set his glasses down on the nightstand and plugged his phone in beside them to charge. He turned out the light and gave Morgana a gentle nudge through the covers. In spite of knowing that the days of him and Ren sharing a bed were long past, it was clear to Morgana that the nudge, though intentional, was not a signal for him to fuck off back to his own little bed. In the dark, Morgana purred, glad that he could once again be in a position to offer some comfort to his longtime friend and confidant.

— — —

Saki Kobayashi had been sitting in the living room of her Tokyo apartment for hours, absently watching TV while she continued to monitor her phone. Kosuke had warned her that the bar he was going to after work was noisy, and that he might not hear his phone if she texted him, but he had promised her he wouldn't stay out too late. It was way past midnight at this point, and she was too worried to sleep.

She and Kosuke hadn't even been married for a full year. Their first anniversary was just over a month away—they were going to spend it in Hawaii. They had so many plans together. Ever since they were kids in high school, they'd been planning their future. Drinking Mai Tais on the black sand beaches of Hawaii for their first anniversary had always been part of the plan.

He'd never been out this late without telling her before. He said he'd be home by now. He promised. She'd already texted her friends, and they told her not to worry—"He just can't hear his phone." By this point, they'd stopped answering her texts, and there was no one left to reassure her that everything was okay, and she shouldn't worry. Alone, under the neon lights from the nightclub across the street, Saki Kobayashi picked up a cushion from next to her on the couch and held it to her face. Silently, she sobbed into the soft fabric.