The city lights flickered like stars in the vast Tokyo night, casting long shadows over the rooftop where you sat, legs crossed, a glass of wine in your hand. TRAPNEST was celebrating another successful concert, and he invited you for their after-party. The wind whipped through your hair, but you didn’t mind. It was one of those nights where the world felt quiet and heavy, like everything had been paused in a moment that was somehow both too long and too short.

And then, of course, he appeared. Takumi Ichinose, the enigmatic bassist with a dangerous charm, had come into your life like a storm, unraveling everything you thought you knew about yourself. His silhouette against the sky was striking, the edges of his sharp features softened by the glow of the moonlight.

The two of you shared a long look, the tension thick in the air. Takumi was a man who lived for power, for control. But you had something he couldn’t have—your silence, your distance. You were one of his women, but you were the only one who had never begged for him. “I didn’t expect you’d actually come.” he said softly, his voice like smooth velvet. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you, his gaze calculating, almost as if he was measuring whether you’d run or stay.