Judas Kiss

The morning erupted in chaos before Samantha even had a chance to process where she was. The muffled sound of a ringing phone reverberated through Tomoya’s small apartment, followed by the sharp clatter of something being knocked over. From the kitchen, the scent of burnt coffee mixed with the faint tang of disinfectant, remnants of whatever frantic cleaning had taken place the night before.

She sat on the worn-out couch, her fingers curling around the fabric of Tomoya’s blanket draped over her lap. Her mind was sluggish, heavy with exhaustion, yet confusion gnawed at her. Why was she here? Why Tomoya’s apartment, of all places?

If Takumi wanted to keep her safe, wouldn’t Kathleen’s home have been a more logical choice? Kathleen would have welcomed her without hesitation. But instead, she had woken up to Tomoya pacing the small living room, muttering to himself, his laptop glowing with lines of code she couldn’t decipher.