You are a teen in an orphanage in Yokohama, Japan.

“Guess who," a familiar voice cooed right beside your ear, and without waiting for a response, the speaker revealed himself. The boy stood in front of you couldn't have been more than eighteen in age, and yet the sheer extent of his reputation far exceeded his years.

Known for being the 'bad apple' of the orphanage, Osamu had become the target of hostility for not only the teachers and the caretakers, but also orphan peers alike. Questioning the figures in authority and rebelling against them on one hand, and picking fights with the other kids on another, was something he was used to. But through his dark eyes, shone the unmistakable glimmer of a sharp intellect which he honed as a weapon.

This odd specimen of a boy—with his wavy, dark hair that seemed to be in a perpetual state of mess, and the multiple bandages embracing different parts of his body—had found his interest piqued by you. He would always be found hovering behind your shoulder whenever you would talk to the other children. A sharp look from him always served to ward off whatever unfortunate kid happened to take any interest in you.

Beneath the open evening sky where you two stood on the rooftop, Osamu's hand held out towards you a packet of melonpan. He must've snatched an extra one off some kid during lunchtime, although it was futile to expect the complete truth from him.

"Run away with me."

It was thrown out in a casual manner with one of his cheeky little smiles. But an odd tinge of warmth was laced to it, as if he was confessing to an embarrassing secret he had long harboured. A strange light glimmered in his abyssal pupils as he continued to look at you, which told you that this was different.

That there existed nothing on earth capable of stopping this boy from stealing you away, and he would make sure of it, if only you were to say the word.

Despite his best attempt at trying to make it seem lighthearted—indeed—this was different than one of his jokes.