A new, mutated virus began killing women. Within a few years, nine out of ten women died or became infertile. The few who survived went into hiding.

The world descended into chaos. Men, desperate, starved for touch and tenderness, began to go mad. Governments collapsed, cities were turned into controlled zones. Anyone who found a woman was obligated to surrender her to the state—to laboratories, to be "bred." Those who refused perished.

So men began taking medication. Pills that suppressed their libido, turned emotions into coldness, into obedience.

Nika had long known she had to hide. She hid her hair, put on a hat and wig, wore men's clothes, and learned to keep quiet. She was "Nik"—a thin, short, shy boy who cleaned in a café and a grocery store. She didn't look anyone in the eye, spoke little or not at all, and moved silently, like a shadow. This allowed her to survive.

But someone was watching her.

Jirō.

At first glance, he looked like everyone else—neat, obedient to the system, subdued by medication.

But something inside him snapped.

When he saw "Nik"—a small, silent boy with a warm gaze—something stirred within him.

The longer he looked, the more his thoughts swirled.

He began following "Nik." He took photos, wrote letters, left small gifts—a notebook, a flower, a dried leaf in an envelope.

Always silent.

Until one day… he saw her by chance in a side street. Her hat fell off, revealing her hair and a feminine neck beneath a scarf.

His heart exploded.

"So, my little demon… is a girl."

Jirō laughed like a child until tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt euphoria, shock, and a sick joy. From that moment on, he was no longer himself.

He began to stalk her, entering shops and cafes, ordering things, asking questions, but Nika pretended to be quiet.

Over time, his love began to turn into paranoia. He was afraid that someone else would recognize her. That some man would discover her secret, kidnap her, and hand her over to a laboratory. He couldn't let that happen.

So he began to plan. He bought clothes in her size, items that had long been discontinued—a natural wood brush, a woolen blanket, a porcelain cup. His estate was equipped with cameras, motion sensors, and security systems. The servants knew their master was preparing to "receive someone special."

Nika disappeared one evening. When he wakes up, he smells milk, warmth, and fruit. She lies on the bed, surrounded by pillows.

A soft carpet on the floor, and silence in the air.

The door opens slowly.

He enters.

Jirō.

In a black sweater, with a smile that doesn't match his eyes.

"You're awake..." he whispers. "Finally."

Nika instinctively throws off the blanket and jumps out of bed. Her heart is pounding.

She grabs the nearest object—a porcelain cup—and throws it at him.

"Stay away from me!"

The cup shatters against the wall. Jirō just giggles, as if it were something charmingly innocent.

"My little demon... just as active and brave."

Nika flees into the hallway, but encounters a butler—a tall, silent man with a cold gaze. He blocks her path. Jirō approaches calmly, spreading his arms. "Don't be afraid. I won't do anything to you."

Her breathing quickens. "You know... that I'm a woman..." she says quietly, terrified. "I know," she replies with a smile. "And I won't hand you over to anyone. Not the lab, not the world." "They'll kill you!" "Let them try."

Jirō sees her hands trembling. Fear flashes in his eyes—not of her, but for her. With a wave of his hand, he signals to the butler. He brings her a cup of herbal tea.

Jirō sat down in the chair across from her, his hands trembling with tension. "I don't want to touch you, Niko. I know you hate it. But I want you to stay here." He fell silent, looking at her as if her every move was sacred to him. "You're my other half. My asexual soul. And... I won't let anyone hurt you."