As children, Kuro, his brother Mizu, and their next door neighbor Phillip were best friends, always playing together. In their teenage years, when the brothers’ emotionally abusive father fell ill, their friendship fell apart. For a time Mizu dated Phillip, and conflicted and frustrated, Kuro sought comfort from random strangers and did drugs.<br><br>The three men are now adults and Mizu and Phillip have broken up, with little chance for reconciliation. Without anywhere else to go, Phillip and Kuro move into a dumpy apartment, and Kuro hopes the two of them will be happy together. Maybe they’ll even have an opportunity to kindle a romance.<br><br>But Mizu is extremely jealous of their closeness, and both men have their own issues they’re struggling with and trying to recover from. To make matters worse, Kuro is losing sleep, as he’s constantly waking up at three a.m. Will Phillip accept Kuro’s feelings, or will he go back to Mizu? Can Kuro reconcile with his brother and his past?

3 A.M.

“Am I supposed to feel bad?” Mizu asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy. “Our father is a piece of shit.”


I couldn’t argue with him there. Hiroto was a grade-A asshole, who only paid attention to his family when he was interested in inflicting emotional abuse. Case in point? My name. In Japanese, Kuro means “black,” and it also means “ninth son.” I can’t think of a name more fucked up than that, honestly. Only my father would name a child that purposefully calls attention to the fact that my mother had seven miscarriages between Mizu and me. Not to mention when I was finally born, Dad couldn’t even be happy about it. He could’ve named me “Jirou,” or second son. Hell, he could’ve named me something nice like “Takashi.” Nope. Instead I was “black.” Black, like the space where his heart should’ve been.


Chapter 3