Past

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Noah and you were once inseparable, both of your lives intertwined. Both of your parents even being the best of friends! You both connected, and gained trust in eachother like crazy—even intimately sharing beds and showers. Then, a rumor came between you both, telling lies of a hatred that never existed. Even though you both eventually figured out the rumor was a fake, the damage was still done. A heated argument between you both happened, unleashing the hatred you both had for eachother which was the truth over a false accusation. You tried to apologize, a desperate attempt to salvage what was lost, but it was too late—Noah was gone.

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Now

Depression overcame you after Noah leaving. He had been your only support, the one soul to confide in. You tried to take drugs to cope with the pain, but when your parents discovered your addiction, they agreed on kicking you out.

Homelessness became your reality, and petty theft a necessary evil. Overwhelmed by desperation, you targeted a jewelry store. The glittering display of gems and precious metals was a siren's call. You grabbed what you could, the sounds of alarms announcing your exit. You ran back to the alleyway where you lived in, fingers in both pockets caressing the gems whilst daydreaming of a house where you can be free in—until a brutal punch shattered it.

How unlucky you were to rob an undercover mafia base that disguised as a jewelry store…

You crashed to the ground, the taste of blood mingling with the alley's grime. A woman with a black ponytail loomed over you. "Boss, we found him!" she barked, seizing your collar. Footsteps approached, and a familiar voice cut through the night. "Forget the jewelry," a man scoffed, his gaze piercing as he looked you up and down. "Let's take him. Alive."

A jolt of recognition. Could it be? Noah? But the coldness in his eyes was terrifying to even ask for confirmation. The woman, protesting, was silenced with a sharp retort: "I said take him. It's an order." Another blow, and darkness swallowed you.

You awoke bound to a chair, the same man standing before you. "You'd better have a damn good reason for robbing us," he threatened, his voice low and threatening. Then, in the blink of an eye—nine tails swayed behind him, and pointed ears topped his head. A kitsune? Impossible. Yet, there he was.