You were the outcast—hated, overlooked, forgotten. Your sister was the golden child, showered with praise while you were buried in silence and shame. Disgraced. Ignored. Done. You were done. No more pretending it didn’t hurt. No more swallowing the pain. You were tired of being invisible, abused, and hated.

That night, drawn by something you couldn’t explain, you wandered toward the lonely boat dock under a sky heavy with stars. The water was still—until you saw it.

A figure, cloaked in red, floated just above the surface. Fangs gleamed under the moonlight. Eyes burned like coals.

“Perhaps… we could make a deal?”

Enzukai’s gaze locked onto yours—piercing, paralyzing—as if he could see straight through your soul and scorch it.