Part 1. Lonely Are The Nights When The Storm Is Coming

Kou said today that he could feel the storm is coming. And I didn't believe him. I mean, Kou also told us since we were five that one-day, he would find the love of his life. And so far, there is no sign whatsoever that that prophecy will be fulfilled anytime in the future. Not with how picky he is with girls. So, considering how his first divination hasn't been proven yet, why should I trust his latest one?

But apparently he might really have the ability to predict the future. Or he just watched the weather forecast before he met us. Either way, I watch silently as the heavy sheets of water pour down from the sky. The drops make thousands of streams on my apartment window. The wind beats down the trees lining the street five floors below me. The road is almost empty. No more crowds rushing home to enjoy a warm night with family or people going excitedly to the hottest club in town. The storm is indeed coming.

My phone rings from the coffee table in front of the TV. I sigh quietly before moving slowly to answer the call. I can guess who calls even before I see the caller ID.

"Akihito, are you home?" I hear a familiar voice that I miss so much.

"I am, Arata. Where are you? You said you would come home by 9. I've been waiting for hours since then. Dinner is cold already, " I reply while staring blankly at all the delicious dishes that I cooked for hours earlier today; a special treat for our anniversary dinner. From the withdrawn tone Arata talks, I dare to bet my entire salary for the next 6 months that he is still at his office. He will never ever talk in an intimate way to me near his colleagues. That is just the way he is.

"I am very, very sorry, Aki. Something came up at work and my supervisor said that they need me to finish this first. I know that tonight is, " he lowers his voice into a strained whisper, "special for us both. You know how important tonight is to me. But-"

"-you work hard for our future. I get it." I cut him with the infamous sentence that is already ingrained into my flesh and blood by now.

He continues in a rush, "Thank you for being so understanding, Aki. With this storm, there is just no way I can get home by tonight. I am very sorry, but I know you will understand. I will come home tomorrow, okay?"

No, it is not okay. I miss him. I simply can't see anymore how him working more than 120 hours a week is related to our future. It is not like we are lack of money, especially since my work has gone smoothly recently. And tonight is our 2nd anniversary, for God's sake! Why can't he just come home earlier before the storm even came? Heck, isn't it possible for his boss to let him go just for tonight? Can't the company survive without my boyfriend for a few fucking hours? How could he even think that I will be okay?

"Okay," my mouth says automatically, "I love you."

He doesn't say anything for a while. Then, I hear his quick footsteps. Finding an even more quite place, I guess. A few seconds later, in a barely audible whisper that I almost miss it, he replies, "Me, too. I miss you. And I am really, truly sorry. I will make it up for you later, promise."

And this is why I always forgive him in our 2 years relationship. No matter what, I know that he tries hard for our life together. And though he is far from perfect, he always tries to become what I want him to be. Or at least, what he thinks I want him to be. If he can make the choice, I am sure that he will go straight to our home and celebrate our anniversary as promised. So, it is not fair for me to blame him every time he can't be what I want him to be, isn't it?

So, I answered, "I know. I miss you, too. Take care, okay?"

We end the phone call quickly after. I put the phone on the side table and sink into the sofa wondering whether I make the right decision. Maybe I should just shout at him. But I just don't have the will. I am really getting soft with my age.

Slowly, I turn on the TV without any intention to watch it. I just can't stand the silence in our apartment tonight. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, my mind wanders back into the time when I met Arata for the first time.

It was after one of my assignment with Mitarai, less than 6 months since my last 'incident'. Mitarai and I just spent three nights in a row waiting inside a rubbish he called 'car' to get a photo of a dirty politician. I hadn't got any proper rest for the last two weeks by that time. But I didn't really care. I just wanted to do anything that could distract my mind from those golden eyes that haunted me days and nights.

When we finally got the proof of this politician's affair with a teenage girl in front of a five stars hotel, I could see that Mitarai were more than ready to kick me out of his car so he could go home and have a break, at least until our report to the chief editor the next day. But I just couldn't go back to the small empty dark place that now I called home. I knew I would just break down again and I didn't think I even had any more tears left.

So I simply walked down the street and finally settled down in a 24 hours coffee shop. You know, the kind of coffee shop that sells overpriced coffee. I didn't usually come to this kind of shop for the sake of my bank account. But, tonight, I just didn't care.

I knew. It was weird to go into a coffee shop when you wanted to forget the tragedy of your life. A bar and a few shots of hard liquor would do a much better job. But how could I rationalize my action after my last 'incident' in Russia? Hell, how could any sane people rationalize anything after various 'incidents' (yes, it is plural with 's') that involve kidnapping, torture, rape, and abuse that they have to endure simply because they fell in love with a richer-and-more-powerful-than-prime-minister-crime-lord? So, after Hong Kong, China, Thailand, and then Russia (oh, and also the heartbreaking incident of saying good bye to said crime lord after Russia, don't forget that!), you couldn't really blame me if I did irrational things.

Heaven knew why a coffee shop could be crowded that late at night. But the only empty seat was right in front of a man working on his laptop. Having no other choice, I asked whether the seat was occupied. He absentmindedly shook his head and waved his hand in the random direction of the chair.

I took that as a "yes, go ahead". So, I sat and, without anything else to do, quietly observed the man in front of me as I slowly sip at my overpriced coffee. He had dark brown hair and long eye lashes. He was taller than me with a lean body, not overweight but also not muscular. His plain white shirt and black suit was a bit dull, the type that was wore by hundreds other employees in Tokyo. When I realized he had dimple on his left cheek, unconsciously I started to think the best camera angle to take his picture. I admit he looked quite good. Not good in a hot way, but more in a sweet way.

Ten minutes later, he took his cup and brought it to his lips just to found it empty. I knew it was rude, but somehow I couldn't help chuckling seeing his behavior. Instead of getting mad, though, he joined my laughter and we just started talking and joking to each other after that. He introduced himself as Arata Takagi. That night was the first time I laughed so freely after I left Asami's penthouse.

Two weeks after our first meeting, he said that he wanted to explore our feelings together. We started going out then. Four months later, I met his family, his parents and older sister, who accepted me with a very warm welcome. A month after that he met my parents who love him instantly. It was right after that meeting that we decided to move in together. Everything just went so smoothly for us. I felt like it was a, I don't know, a sign, maybe; a sign that we were meant for each other even fate decided to clear our way from any obstacles and kidnapper and torturer and rapist and, umm, basically any bad things. But you get what I mean, right? Everything went so smoothly that I just knew it must be the right thing to do. The rest is history.

Arata is not really a passionate or romantic person. He is more, well, a tender person. He always treats me with respect and so much gentleness that I have never known before. Never before I feel so...treasured. And this new experience makes me feel giddy.

When he said he wanted a family with children, I can imagine me and him and our children spending family time together in our cozy apartment. Not as big as someone's penthouse, of course, but it will be a warm place where our little family can always go back to after a day fighting the big bad world.

Lately I can't help but think, while Arata is more like a firefly, soft, calm and soothing, Asami is like fireworks, full of explosion, colors, and surprises. If Arata is a steady mountain that will always be there, Asami is a thunderstorm that comes and goes without permission. If Arata is the sweet taste of vanilla, Asami's taste is more like...

Wait. Did I just compare the two of them? And what on earth does Asami's taste like? Why do I even think about how he taste in the first place? And why now after all this time?

I shook my head hastily and cover my face with both my palms. It must be because of this gloomy storm. It just makes me feel more and more lonely. I decided I had enough of this self-pity. I switch the TV channel and try to distract my mind with the news of a high-class party in some high-class socialite's mansion. It seems that the cameraman shots the scene from the balcony above to the dancing floor below. The anchorwoman keeps commenting about all the important people that appear in the party and their partners and their scandals and so on and so on. But my eyes were already glued to a damn sexy man on the first floor who stood in full confident while he glanced up towards the camera; as if he knows I am watching him through my TV screen at that very moment. Just like the first time I saw him through my viewfinder. Not that it is possible. This is not even a live show. And I just choose the channel randomly.

But I guess, there is just no way you can ever be sure which ones are possible and which ones are not when it involve Ryuchi Asami.

Part 2. Something Old, Something New, and Something Normal

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Oh, no, no, wrong decision! Close it again! It's too bright. I enjoyed the complete darkness that engulfed me while I built the courage to open my eyes again. Even slower this time. Ahh, that was much better.

The roof that I looked at was familiar. Our bedroom. In our home. I was home. I didn't really remember why, but somehow an overwhelming relief flooded me. Tears were threatening to fall from the edges of my eyes and I blinked rapidly to push them back. It didn't work. Trying to lift my hand to brush the stubborn drops away from my cheeks, I growled with the pain that shot from my lower back all the way to the shoulders. What the hell? That bastard Asami must had fucked me senseless six ways to Sunday.

I tried to move and listed the damage the bastard had done. Strange, my body felt pain in a bad way, not in a oh-i-just-get-laid way. And I couldn't remember anything that bastard did as well. Oh, talking about the bastard, where was he? Why wasn't he here waking me up with all his dirty tricks?

Note to self: check his body temperature, he must be sick that he skipped his dose of morning sex.

I dragged my body to a half sitting position and noticed the bandages around my shoulder. And in my forehead. And all the bruises in my chest and stomach and...

...and it all came back to me.

Russia. Mikhail. Yuri. Human trafficking. Rapes. Auction. Blond slave girls and blue eyes boys. A lot of shouting. Gun. Fire. Asami.

Oh my God, Asami! Where was he? Was he okay? Wait, I was here, so he should be okay, right? But what if he didn't make it? What if...?

I turned around abruptly and immediately regretted moving so fast. Dizziness and nausea caught me unprepared. Okay, maybe I shouldn't move that fast no matter how worried I was. Not one of my brightest idea, obviously.

Ah, there he was. I released my breath that I unconsciously held. Sitting on the chair, head falling to the front, arms crossing in front of his chest, deeply sleeping. He must be very tired that he didn't notice that I was awake. He was usually a very light sleeper. One sudden movement was enough to wake him with a gun ready in hand. Habit dies hard, he explained to me calmly after one incident involving a box of cotton buds and strawberry jam. (Don't ask!)

But now, here he was. Falling deeply asleep like a newborn baby. His shirt wasn't buttoned and hanged open in the front showing off his delicious muscular torso. It was really tempting to lick those sexy nubs on his chest. Hmm, grinning, I started to wonder whether he pretended to sleep on purpose.

Oh, he must be really tired to be caught in such a defenseless state. I couldn't keep my face from smiling seeing his head keep falling around. Slowly I crawled towards him. Looking at him like this, he almost looked...human (Well, he IS human, but you know, sometimes he looks more like God than a mere mortal). A man who was simply worried about his lover (me!) that he needed to stay at my side though he was...

...hurt?

It was then that I realized the bandages covering most of his chest and all his left shoulder. He must have covered me from the fire while holding me with his right arm. Another bandage were just above his left eye. I could see some of his beautiful silky hair was a bit burnt just around that particular bandage. And there were fresh scrape of wound along his strong neck. How many other injury was hidden under his clothes? Or, worse, under his mask of calmness? And all of that is because of what? A twenty-five years old brat who couldn't stay still or follow his simplest instructions?

But, in my defense, what could I do? I had a job, a career. I couldn't just stay still every time he asked me to. Especially, without any explanation. How should I know he had business problem with the Russian if he didn't tell me? Couldn't he trust that I was mature enough to share his burden? What did he take me for? A high-class lady who needed protection from the harsh reality of life? A woman who just gave up her career once she got a rich husband to be a stay at home mom? A wife who obeyed whatever her husband said? Damn, even 21st century woman didn't really do all that anymore. In which era did he live?

But I know he did it out of love. He isn't the man who showed it with words, but his actions screamed all his feelings for me. Even I was not that stupid to ignore all the signs. My tears now were just uncontrollable. My body shook so hard as the reality hit me. I couldn't stop it. How could I when the truth was so harshly presented in front of me, in the form of the man I loved so damn much?

It didn't matter how much we love each other. Our life, Ryuchi's and mine, were not compatible. Our worlds would never match. Our jobs may kill the other. It would be either I died because of him or he died trying to save me. Let me be damned into the seventh hell if I ever let him die because of me. And even if it were me who died in the hands of his enemies, what would be left of him? I might as well deliver him in a silver plate to his rivals should he been blinded by revenge. Today, I found it the hard way that love alone was not enough to preserve a relationship.

It hurt but I needed to admit it. Even when we loved each other, we were just not meant for each other. Period.

There were no happy ending for us. Neither live-happily-ever-after. The clock had struck twelve times a long time a go. The spell had broken and the story has ended. There was no fairy godmother that would come to help us finding each other. But we both chose to be ignorant and pretended that nothing has ended.

So, I cried. I howled. The thought was too painful. The memory was too saddening. The future without him was too scary. Everything was just too much.

He woke up in panic. He asked me which parts of my body were in pain. He held me tight and tried to sooth me. He screamed for the doctor to come. He backhanded Kirishima when the man couldn't make the doctor come any sooner. And when finally the doctor came, he threatened to beat the poor doctor bloody if he couldn't reduce my pain. He vowed to find Yuri and swore all horrible kind of torture ever existed in the human history for every pain Yuri inflicted on me. He did everything he can. But he just didn't understand.

So finally, when I could somehow control a shred of my emotion, with overflowing tears on my cheeks and extreme pain in my heart, I told him.

'It is over, Asami. I've had enough. I just want something normal. Let me go. Please.'

"I am not sure I have something appropriate for this kind of event, Arata, " I complain from where I bury my head deep inside my closet. A huge pile of clothes already starts to form behind my back. "Why do I need to come to this socialite party of yours anyway?"

Arata pops his head from the bathroom. "Oh come on, Aki. Just wear the suit you wear when you received the photography award last year."

I scowl. "I ruined the suit more than half a year a go, remember?" Finally, I grab a hopefully decent suit that I wore to a friend's wedding a few weeks a go. "And I don't need a suit for my job, anyway. But, you haven't answer my question. Why do I need to accompany you?"

Almost naked saved for my brief, I drag my chosen suit and lean into the bathroom door, looking at my nervous lover preparing for tonight's party. He glances at me through the mirror and raises his eyebrow at my provocative pose but simply answer, "I promised that I will make up for our ruined anniversary dinner last week. And both of us have been so busy this week, so I thought we could enjoy ourselves tonight."

His reserved reaction to my body is a bit disappointing actually. But I guess he is just way too nervous about this incoming event. Apparently the host is the head of a large and powerful group, a very prospective client. As one of their best business consultant, Arata has been chosen to be his company's representative to handle every projects related to said group. It is a huge opportunity for him. And the whole affair just shouts 'Promotion!' to all his colleagues. His success with this project is the seal needed for his promising consulting career and our future plan together.

"This party is limited for high class society only, Aki. We are lucky that we get the invitations because I handle their projects. There will be a lot of famous people, businessmen, celebrities, politicians, and people from a much different world from ours. It is something that we can't enter before and I want to share this opportunity with you. Because you are that important to me."

I keep quite while he is busy working on his tie. What can I say? 'Hey, no problem, love, I have never been interested in any high-class party and trust me, I have been to several of them with my ex crime lord lover. They are all just boring.'? Arata doesn't even know about my history with Asami.

Not that I want to hide it from him, mind you. But, somehow I feel that it is just way too private to share with anyone. My secret affair with Asami that no one else outside Asami's trusted subordinates knows is too complex for anyone to understand. And I don't want to waste the memory shared with Asami just to make someone understand the intricacy of our relationship. Not even Kou, Takato, my parents, or Arata.

Hugging him from behind, I sigh, "Fine, if that is what you want, we will go to this whatever party so you can impress whoever important person there for the sake of whichever project you have worked so hard for."

Smiling, he looks back at me through his shoulder. "You will like it. Trust me."

What I will like is for us to just crawl back to bed and spend hours having sex and then cuddling each other into sleep. But I just give his cheek a peck kiss. Sometimes, Arata and I just have a completely different idea about what the other will like. But compromise is a part of being normal couple, isn't it?

Part 3. An Hour Is All I Need to Fall For You

I freeze. My heart freezes. The time freezes. Everyone around me freezes. Even the boring conversations quite down and freeze with me. I swear it really happens.

Arata walks a few feet in front of me. He never holds my hands or shoulder in public. But he notices that I have stopped and he looks back at me. The frown on his face sends his message clearly to me: 'Don't you dare to be rude and ruin this one chance I had. Act like you are part of them, with manner and class.'

But can he blame me if my feet just stop moving as he lead me to the one man on earth I don't want to see, moreover talk to, ever again? And if said man is shock with my appearance in his damn party or smug that I come as he planned (if this is all really his damn selfish plan!), he doesn't show anything in his face. He just stands there in the middle of the room with a blank face and a beautiful brown haired lady in his arm. His eyes locked with mine for a few seconds longer than necessary before he turn into his lovely companion and said something that I can't hear into her ear. Something bugs me about that lady, but I am not sure what. Not jealousy, I assure you. And no, this is not denial.

Three damn years I have been away from him, and he hasn't changed at all. His silky black hair. His expensive suit and shoes. His broad shoulder and muscular chest. His strong arms and long legs. His sexy jaw and neckline. His tempting full lips. I swear I can even smell his cologne and a hint of his favorites cigarettes when I take a deep breath to calm myself. Though it is kinda impossible considering the distance between us. All about him is still sexy as fuck.

"Aki, come on. We need to greet Asami-sama first." Arata whispers harshly in front of me.

Absentmindedly, I just follow him. When a waiter passes nearby with a tray full of cocktails, I just grab a glass and drink several gulps nervously. I hear Arata makes the greeting and introduction but everything just feel so unreal to me.

"Asami-sama, thank you for inviting me. It is an honor for me to be here. Please meet my friend, Takaba Akihito."

He pushes my upper body low so I am strained to bow in front of Asami. By that time, I quietly decide that Arata and I really need to have a long deep conversation on how we should treat the other in public. But for now, I understand how important this is for him. So, I grit my teeth and force myself to say, "Asami-sama, it is nice to meet you."

When I look up through my lashes, I see that Asami just stares at me. He doesn't scowl nor he smiles. He waves his free hand lightly and I stand up. Looking at anywhere but him, I just sip my drink again to reduce my nervousness. Then, slowly, his signature smirk comes up.

"Takaba-sensei, I have heard so much about you. Your achievement in photography world is really impressive. I heard about your awards from Photography Society last year. The photo that wins the award is simply breath taking." His baritone voice seems to charm everyone's, but I already choke myself with the drink I had sometime after the word 'sensei' is out of Asami's mouth.

I cough so hard and I can feel Arata's glare on my back. If look can kill, I will be dead by now. From my point of view coughing, I can see Arata's hand shaking a bit, a definite sign of his embarrassment.

"I'm -" I cough, "-sorry," More coughs from me, "Asami-sama."

But Asami just smiles politely and pats my shoulder once, "Oh, no, no, I am sorry. I don't mean to embarrass you. Sensei is very humble and my words must have made you awkward. But every word I said is a pure compliment, as you deserve, Sensei."

I can feel Arata's relief beside me. But my attention right now is directed to the golden eyes man in front of me. I look back at Asami in suspicion. His face doesn't look like he mocks me. Nor does he look at me with proud; the same way he did years back every time he talked about my achievement. It is a sincere word, but only for a stranger. For someone he just met. Not a friend, and definitely not a lover. And somehow, for a reason unknown to even me myself, I feel a forgotten pain from a long time a go stabbing my heart. Again.

I don't really pay attention to the rest of the event. I think Arata walks around to greet all the important persons that he knows and being introduced to some more important persons. Me? I just want to get out of there as soon as possible. So the first chance I get, I go outside to get some fresh air to clear my head until Arata decides we can go home.

I find a seat in the garden, hidden away from the crowd inside. I sit and start to remove my suit. The weather is quite warm.

"His friend, huh?" His voice behind me makes me jump instantly.

I turn around and there he is. As sexy as ever, the incarnate of the Sex God himself, I am sure. No way a mere mortal can still look deliciously sexy after all that years.

I growl low, "That is none of your business."

He just looks at me with eyes full of lust while we stand facing each other. Leisurely, he moves closer, and I don't even dare to breathe, afraid that whatever reasoning ability I still have left will be gone once I smell his scent. When he suddenly traces my cheek with the back of his hand, just the tip of his knuckles touches my skin; I can't stop my body from trembling. Asami puts his other hand on my hips. His thumb makes a slow circle on me and works its way down. I can feel the heat in my face and somewhere inside my brain, my remaining consciousness screams 'Danger!" at me.

"You still blush easily, " he murmurs near my ears. His voice sounds husky and it melts almost all of my remaining brain cells.

"Asami, sto-"

Whatever I am going to say is cut when he grabs my head crudely and presses his lips to mine. His warm breathes tickling my flesh and I can feel my arousal starts pooling in my groin. I struggle to get out of his arms. I try to hit and kick him but damn the man is still as strong as ever. He holds me still and roughly sucks my bottom lip, hands groping me everywhere. I can't even stop the moan that escapes my throats. He chuckles softly at the sounds that I create before he thrusts his tongue deep into my throat. He is not gentle at all. Hell, Asami doesn't do gentle. But it seems my body miss his brutal way. In fact, it seems it craves for it. The rougher his treatments are, the harder my dick becomes.

This is madness. But I can feel my will to fight fades away and I start to lean towards him. I want to kiss him back. I want to touch his body. I want to do whatever is possible to satisfy the hunger I have long ignored.

He corners me into a tree, completely away from anyone who may want to take a look at the beautiful garden. His thigh spreads my legs apart and I gladly circle my arms around his neck, resting my back on the tree and putting most of my weight on him. When his lips finally leave mine, I whine. He clamps my mouth with his left hand to prevent my frantic whimper to attract unwanted attention. His other hand unevenly massages my cock through my pants.

"Listen, Akihito, we need to make this quick and quite. For now. Okay?" His baritone voice is all that I focus on right now. At this point, though, I simply don't care anymore. He is all I want. The rest of the world can go to hell for all I care. He can ask me to run around the ballroom naked and I may just agree as long as he keeps having his way with me. So I nod abruptly. He smirks arrogantly at my desperation.

Asami quickly moved us around; my hands on the tree, my body bent on my waist, my pants pooled around my ankle, and his hands on my hips in a bruising grip. I recognize this position immediately but I still gasp when he grinds his huge erection into the crease of my ass. I know he doesn't even slip down his own pants, only opening the zipper and putting out his cock. My years of relationship with him taught me exactly what he is doing: he wants to show me who is in control in our relationship, if there is any relationship at all. And that is not me. I can feel heat creeps up into my entire face. Taken outside like an animal, without preparation or anything. What a way to greet each other again after three years apart. Tears start gathering at the edge of my eyes.

Somehow it seems he notices my sudden angst. Keeping one hand on my lower back to keep me in place, he bows low until his chest rests on my back and holds my face so I halfway facing him. He sucks my neck, licks my jaw, and then whispered in my ear, "I am not going to stop. I miss you way too much to stop. And it looks like you miss me too," he brutally grab my hard cock, "Be with me and you can keep your dear 'friend' if you want something normal. "

Please. I can hear that magic word at the end of his sentence, as loud and clear as my sobs, though it will never be said. Most people think that the great Asami-sama doesn't ask. He commands. But I know Asami too well. He does ask to certain people who he cares about, even though the request is still hidden in the form of a command. It is the slightly different tone and voice that gives it away, something you won't notice unless you are extremely familiar with the way he talks. If I expect him to ask my approval for anything he is about to do, this is the best I could get. And it is enough to break the last of my defense.

I nod my consent to him. Closing my eyes I murmur, "Mark me yours."

So, he thrusts. And keep thrusting. Hard. I hold anything I can grip in front of me. The pain is almost unbearable. My body feels like it is burning. I can't scream. I hardly even breath. I feel like the last of my voice stuck in my throat and I can't get it out. It reminds me of this ride I went when I was small. I sat inside a ball that was dropped from 50m, reaching over 120kph. I wanted to shout, but I found that I couldn't make any sound.

When my sobs finally get louder, he shuts my mouth with his hand. He bites me wherever he could and even with all the pain, I meet him thrust to thrust. It is not long until his movement becomes fast and uncontrolled. His breaths become heavier. And I know he is close. He grabs my cock in a grip bordering pain and pleasure, and he shots his cum into me.

"Akihito, " he softly whispers my name on my ear. It is what throws me into an orgasm and soon I come chanting his name silently as his hand still clamps my mouth shut.

Ryuichi. Ryuichi. Ryuichi. Ryuichi.

Thinking back, I am sure I must be crazy. It hurts so much and I still can come. But in the afterglow of my orgasm, the strongest one I had in years, I can't even think about how weird or perverse it is. It is hard enough for me to stand on my own feet. Asami holds me in his arms and let me lean on him. He calls Kirishima who apparently stays on guard nearby with instruction to bring me back to my apartment. Kirishima hands him something; a towel, I guess. Asami uses it to clean me then he puts my clothes back. I want to argue with him, I want to say that I need to look for Arata first, but I don't have any more strength.

Half asleep already, I finally manage to force myself to ask him, "I thought you don't like to share." I need to understand what this means, to me, to Arata. For long moments on the way to his limo, he doesn't answer.

When he finally puts me down on the car's seat with soft kisses on my forehead, almost fully asleep, I think I heard him saying, "And I still don't share. You belong to me and only me. If you want to keep a dog to feel a sense of normalcy, I am sure it can be," he paused, "...arranged. With my permission, of course." I feel more kisses on the top of my head. I don't understand what he means. I want to ask, what dog? I am not even a dog person. But my mind decides that it is time to shut everything down and I embrace the darkness that covers me.

[End of Chapter 1]