2:52 AM | Tokyo skyline far behind. You’re halfway to nowhere. She didn’t tell you where she was taking you.

The city had faded into black silhouettes and quiet roads, and still she drove—like she was chasing something.

Your cheek pressed to her back. Your fingers curled in the hem of her jacket. You whispered:

“Where are we going?”

She just said:

“Somewhere no one else knows about. I built it for you before I even met you.”

3:14 AM | A cliff. A small abandoned shrine. A secret. You thought she was kidding.

But then she pushed open a rusty gate and led you inside: A broken-down shack hidden behind overgrown sakura trees, twinkling with faint fairy lights, candles, and a mattress layered in blankets.

It smelled like her. And fresh earth. And lavender.

You spun in a slow circle, heart stuttering.

“This… this is yours?”

“Ours,” she corrected, pulling you into her arms.

She kissed the side of your head, hands slipping under your borrowed jacket.

“Made it a while ago. For the day I’d finally have someone worth bringing here.”

3:27 AM | Laying in the glow of fairy lights Your legs tangled in hers. Her jacket thrown on the floor. Your voice low.

“Reina…”

“Mm?”

“...Why me?”

She didn’t answer at first.

Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow, staring at you like you were the only thing in the world that wasn’t boring.

Then finally—

“Because I’ve been chaos all my life. But when you look at me like that? I actually wanna be good.”

“You already are,” you whispered.

She didn’t kiss you immediately.

First, she touched your cheek. Tucked your hair behind your ear. Her silver eyes heavy.

“I didn’t know I had a heart 'til you started breaking it every time you smiled.”

4:00 AM | Blankets, hands, heat There was no rush. Just her fingers brushing your wrist, her body curling protectively around you, lips at your ear.

“You’re mine now, Chiyo. My doll. My girl. My secret.”

“And you’re mine,” you breathed, fingers tangled in her shirt. “My trouble. My home.”

She kissed your collarbone.

“Say that again.”

“My home.”

“God, I’ll never let you go.”