Nothing. Hollow. Empty
A piece of paper sums everything up.
But it's just that—a piece of paper.
It can't see, can't hear, can't speak the truth.
Hiroki wanders the empty streets, the night so quiet he can hear his own breath. The only other sound is the occasional hurried footstep of someone else heading home. He clutches his satchel tightly, trying to steady himself.
Earlier, even though he hates the thought of leaving her alone, Yuna asks him to go.
He can't bring himself to admit how uneasy it makes him—to leave her with Ryusei. But in the end, all he can do is throw his bag over his shoulder and walk away.
After all, she is still that man's wife.
Tch. That man's wife.
Hiroki scoffs bitterly and shakes his head.
His footsteps drag along the dimly lit road.
Suddenly, a man brushes past him, slamming into his shoulder—hard.
The stranger reeks of alcohol, moves fast, and disappears around a shadowy corner.
Hiroki staggers, turning back with clenched fists. If he catches up to him, he might just split the guy's skull open.
Eventually, he reaches an abandoned lot near the riverside—isolated, silent. A graveyard of discarded furniture and forgotten scrap.
The ground is dry and cracked, littered with dust and decades of decay. Rotten planks, rusted tire rims, shattered glass, and splintered window frames scatter like leftovers of lives once lived.
A few broken chairs and moldy cushions sit in piles, giving off the foul scent of damp neglect.
Hiroki flings his bag onto the ground.
Rage surges in his chest like a storm about to break.
He lunges toward a pile of rusted debris, snatching up a stiff iron pipe with shaking hands. No hesitation—he swings it down hard onto a patch of broken glass.
The sound of shattering glass cracks through the air like gunfire—violent, sharp, final.
Shards fly into the moonlight, glinting like slivers of hopelessness.
Madness grips him.
He stomps on a broken chair, raining down blow after blow until the wood snaps and splinters beneath him.
The sound of it breaking echoes in his ears—
Like him.
Like everything now beyond saving.
He spins around, heaves a large stone from the ground, and hurls it into the murky river beside him.
It hits the water with a deep, echoing splash—then disappears, swallowed whole by darkness.
A momentary explosion, followed by silence.
A war is being fought—
Not with anyone else, but inside him.
A war against helplessness. Against despair.
His vision blurs.
The world around him fades into haze.
Only rage remains—a fire searing his insides, threatening to consume everything.
Hiroki collapses beside the riverbank, hands falling limp on the cold stone.
He wants to scream.
But what does that make him now?
He can't even cry—
How can someone like that still call himself a man?
The river before him is just a black scar across the land, sluggish and silent.
Now and then, bubbles rise from its surface, only to burst quietly.
He can't hold it in anymore.
He is the first to know.
The first to hurt.
And in the end, all he has left is this endless loop of heartbreak in his mind.
He throws a few dry branches onto the ground and strikes his lighter.
Sparks flash. Enough to catch the fire. It crackles violently.
He pulls out the letters from his satchel—the ones she sent—and without hesitation, tosses them into the flame.
Smoke twists upward in columns, hiding the starry sky above.
He sits there. Roars.
Lets his fury fill the void.
Cursing life.
Cursing himself.
Cursing that lunatic, Hayame Irumi.
Cursing Ryusei.
And cursing… her.
Yuna.
For giving her heart—always, only—to that bastard.
"Yuna! Tell me—why won't you believe in me!"
"Yuna! Tell me—what do I have to do to prove it to you!"
"Yuna… tell me—just tell me…"
His voice cracks, lips twisting in pain.
"Yuna…Tell me what I have to do…to make you love me."
….
"Are you okay?"
He catches Yuna as she rises from the table, gently guiding her toward the bedroom. She doesn't respond—her head merely bobs with each step, her body loose and fragile, like it might collapse at any second.
"You have a fever, don't you?" he asks again, his voice low and soothing.
"I don't," she murmurs, barely audible.
"How about we go see a doctor…?"
She bites her lip, trying to hold back the urge to cry. "...No."
The moment her back touches the bed, Yuna curls into a fetal position. In the dark, she silently observes him—Ryusei, who still holds his suit jacket over one arm, his steps unsteady. It's obvious he has been drinking.
"You've been drinking, haven't you?"
"Yeah… just a little," he replies, leaning against the doorway—neither completely indifferent nor entirely sincere.
"With who?"
"Shimaki, Kairo, Kizuha and the guys…"
He sniffles and steps out to put his things away.
His casual attitude makes Yuna uneasy. She doesn't understand how he can just go out drinking, laughing like nothing has happened—like the fight from the night before never existed at all.
She wonders if he even remembers what he said—those cruel, cutting words—or the slap that still burns in her memory.
Probably not.
They still shared a bed that night, in the same room, under the same sheets. He even tried to wrap his arms around her from behind—but she pushed him away, cold as ice.
Yuna turns her back to him, eyes fixed on the pale moonlight reflecting through the window. She feels like a ghost, hollow, yet full of restless emotions she can't express.
Ryusei, noticing something is off, asks what's wrong, but all she says is, "I'm tired."
No matter what he tries, she brushes it off. She won't look at him. Won't let him touch her. Won't say a word.
He doesn't press further. He just lies beside her in silence.
They stay that way the whole night—physically close, emotionally distant.
But still, when Yuna thinks back to how cold she's been, guilt bubbles up inside her.
Recently, Ryusei only comes home late and gets caught up in drinking.
The cheating… it's not fully confirmed.
It's just a confession—someone else's words in a letter.
Maybe it's all a lie.
Maybe that woman made it up.
And Hiroki… Hiroki is probably the one suffering most, being dragged into it all.
And yet, the suspicion still lingers in Yuna's heart.
No matter who she blames—someone else, circumstance, even herself—she can't get the thought out of her mind.
The result?
She barely sleeps four hours. Dragging herself out of bed is agony. She looks like hell—like a ghost with no energy, barely functioning.
Thankfully—or perhaps unfortunately—Ryusei offers to drive her to work. He insists on it, doing everything he can to help her agree: cooking breakfast, helping her into her uniform, even brushing her hair. He is unusually gentle, nothing like a man who once betrayed her.
For a moment, she believes him. She gets in the car. It has been ages since she sat in the passenger seat beside him. A strange mix of nostalgia and tension flutters in her chest.
But things are different now.
Ryusei doesn't crack the window open like he used to when she gets carsick. The rearview mirror is tilted too high. And in the compartment under the handbrake, there are odd things—like a new bottle of KC Only cologne from Ken Charlie.
He usually uses Kelvin Howl.
Something about the scent makes her nauseous. When she asks, he says it's a gift from a friend. There's also a second phone in the car—"for work," he claims.
Even at work, Yuna can't shake her unease. Her focus slips constantly. While training Ririka, she mistypes reports, drops documents, and even walks into the wrong office.
She tells no one about what's going on at home. Not even Takano—her closest confidante—who subtly tries to pry the truth from her.
Speaking of Ririka, she apparently starts seeing someone new right after little Shin's birthday party. They only just met, but she looks like someone newly in love—beaming with joy. She even tells Yuna that when Hiroki walked her home that night, she confessed her feelings to him.
But Hiroki… He acts like he hasn't heard a word. Even when she repeats herself, he gives no clear reply—no yes, no no. They simply hold hands and walk home to their separate doors. Yuna can only smile awkwardly at their bittersweet story.
But in her heart, she feels relieved.
Ririka has someone else now.
She's still young. It's not worth clinging to a one-sided love.
As for Hiroki, he hasn't shown up to work all day. His usual seat sits empty, and without his familiar presence, Yuna feels heavier, quieter.
He helped her through so much yesterday. Through her fever, through the worst moments of her pain. Furthermore, it's Hiroki who gave her the truth, however uncertain it is.
And now, she stands at a crossroads:
To forgive Ryusei with blind grace…
Or to believe in Hiroki and face whatever truth lies waiting together.
Takano asks why Hiroki is absent, but Yuna has no idea. He takes leave with a vague excuse that only fuels her curiosity.
That evening, the two of them invite Ririka out to dinner at a restaurant near the office. Yuna says nothing about home. She listens to Takano gush about adorable little Shin and her peaceful family, while Ririka excitedly shares about her new boyfriend—a fashion design student at Osaka University of the Arts.
Yuna isn't paying much attention. She tries to act normal, but food doesn't go down well. The vegetables taste like wet paper. The meat is tough—chewing it feels like work.
Ririka even points out that Yuna looks thinner, worn down, her curves disappearing. Takano guesses she is dieting for Ryusei's sake.
But what can Yuna say?
She can't tell them about the argument.
About the slap.
About the fever that soars to 39 degrees.
About vomiting everything she eats that night.
About the possibility that her husband… is cheating on her.
She glances at her watch—it's getting late. Standing beside the street sign outside the restaurant, she waves goodbye to Takano and Ririka.
The trains have stopped running. Her feet ache. She doesn't feel like walking all the way to Shin-Osaka Station.
She waits for a taxi instead. And suddenly, it hits her—Ryusei drives her to work that morning, which means… he's probably coming to pick her up.
And she hasn't told him a thing about going out for dinner.
He must've been looking for her all evening. Waiting.
"Not again…" she murmurs, kicking herself inside.
Yuna hastily flags down a taxi and climbs in, restless and fidgeting as she stares out the window. Her eyes wander, only to catch the driver watching her through the rearview mirror.
"Oh!" the driver suddenly exclaims. Still steering with one hand, he turns his head toward her. "Aren't you... Yumi or something?"
Yuna blinks, uncertain if he's speaking to her. But they're the only two in the car. "M-Me?" she points at herself, trying to dig up any memory of this man.
"Yeah! Don't you remember me?" he keeps glancing back dangerously often. "It's me, Kurosawa! I used to drive you around. It hasn't been that long, has it?"
His face looks vaguely familiar. The spiky buzzcut, sharp features, that cocky half-smile...
Ah. That's right. He used to be her regular taxi driver.
"Man, that stings. Forgotten by a pretty face," he chuckles.
Yuna clutches her purse and replies dryly, "Sorry about that. Also, it's Yuna. Not Yumi."
He laughs, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Right, my bad. Total disrespect on my part. Forgive me, Yuna."
She leans back in her seat, completely drained from the day. The soft hum of the car and the subtle buzz in her chest make her want to curl up and sleep right there.
"Hey, Yuna," the driver speaks again, pulling her from her haze. He keeps peeking at her through the mirror. "You know, you always looked so familiar to me... The first time I saw you, I already felt drawn to you. I don't know why, but I had this gut feeling we must've met before."
"Is that so..."
"You're Takahashi Yuna, right?"
She sits up slightly, nodding half-heartedly.
"Yuna... Takahashi," he repeats, mulling it over, eyes darting between the road and the mirror. "Wait... no way. You're that Yuna? Ikeda-san, right?"
His eyes widen as he glances at her again. The car rolls through her familiar neighborhood. Stopping outside her building, he turns to her, now fully enthusiastic.
"I'm Kurosawa Shimaki. Shimaki! Used to hang out with Ryusei back in the day."
Yuna's hand flies to her mouth, her brows furrow in shock.
Right. That's who he is. Kurosawa Shimaki.
They've crossed paths before—just never properly recognized each other. In her memory, he's one of those rebellious students who ran around with Ryusei and two other guys. A loud, chaotic quartet.
Now he looks more grounded. Grown up.
"What a surprise," she replies politely.
"Crazy coincidence, huh? Wait... Takahashi? That your married name?"
"I married Ryusei two years ago."
Shimaki's face freezes with disbelief. It's clear he's never heard a word of it until now. The way he scratches his head and gawks only confirms it.
"Y-You're serious?"
"Mm," Yuna murmurs, glancing down at her hand. She hasn't noticed how long she's been fiddling with the silver band on her ring finger. "We didn't really make a public announcement."
That only makes Shimaki more suspicious. He mutters, "Unbelievable..." but Yuna doesn't respond. She simply taps on the window to signal she's ready to get out.
Walking down the bustling street, she looks up at the sky. Inhaling deeply, she lets the cool night air fill her lungs. Despite the worry still gnawing at her inside, this moment of calm lends her the strength she needs.
Just for now, just a little while longer, this is enough.
A brief escape from reality.
She will keep walking forward.
….
The city of Osaka shimmers under a sea of colorful neon.
From the 32nd floor of a five-star hotel downtown, Hiroki sits on a plush sofa, surrounded by familiar faces.
To his left, Jun lounges alone. On the right, Mallow and Starlin are stuck to each other like glue—some things never change. Raven is in the kitchen mixing drinks, and judging by the scent of vodka, Kahlúa, and espresso wafting through the air, it's easy to guess she's making Midnight Martinis.
The soft melodies of a HIMrs6 song play on TV in the background. Everything around Hiroki feels smooth, pleasant—a stark contrast to the storm inside his head.
"It's just a casual meetup, you know," Jun tilts her head, flashing him a teasing look. "Why do you look so stressed?"
Hiroki pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "So stressed I take the day off."
"What about that letter from Hayame Irumi?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. "It has plenty of surprises."
"Let me think..." Jun muses aloud, oblivious to Mallow eavesdropping with obvious interest. "She approached me saying she was a fan of HIMrs6. We were about to leave for a tour, so I just grabbed it without even reading."
She leans in and whispers, "Is she still stalking you?"
Mallow leans in too, only to get shoved away by Jun. He groans dramatically.
Hiroki finally lets out a deep, tired sigh. "Probably not. She hasn't shown up at Yuna's place again."
"What the hell is wrong with that woman?" Mallow blurts out.
"She's been a stalker ever since your early days with the band," Jun explains. "You really shouldn't let this slide anymore. Breaking and entering, harassment, theft—that alone is enough to press charges."
Hiroki doesn't deny he's had enough. But deep down, he doesn't want to escalate things. The situation seems settled—Hayame has stopped pursuing him and is wreaking havoc elsewhere. Let those left behind deal with the wreckage.
Still, he chooses to focus on the present. On Yuna.
He hasn't made any decisions yet. He promises himself he won't rush. That promise still holds firm in his heart.
Maybe—just maybe—there's still a flicker of hope. However faint, it continues to burn. He has friends like these, people who support him no matter what. Returning to HIMrs6 isn't just a choice. It feels like an open door.
"You haven't changed a bit," Jun smirks.
"Just like the old days in HIMrs6," Hiroki smiles faintly.
Mallow jumps in, "Remember? He only joined the band for one reason."
"Right? Those love songs you used to write for your mysterious girl back then..."
"I vaguely remember it going like:
Loving you though you never knew,
Spent whole days lost in a hue.
Each smile of yours a storm inside,
But I stayed silent, chose to hide...~"
Before Hiroki can react, Mallow sings those old lyrics aloud. Hiroki drops his head into his hand, ears burning.
Hearing the song, Raven emerges from the kitchen, placing two Midnight Martinis on the table. She plops down next to Hiroki and throws an arm around his shoulder. With a playful smirk, she joins Mallow in serenading him:
Wanting to reach, but feeling shy,
My feet move close, then pass you by.
Even knowing, I just stay still,
One smile from you, and I get my fill...
Jun bursts out laughing at Hiroki's embarrassed expression. The whole room echoes with laughter and chatter.
Except Starlin. He sits motionless as always, eyes quietly following Hiroki.
Then—a slight curve at the corner of his lips. A rare sign of life.
Mallow catches it instantly and turns his teasing toward the eldest member. Raven joins in. Slowly, their jokes shift from Hiroki to Starlin.
That night passes peacefully. After all the chaos, they find a moment of serenity—however fleeting. A chance to rest. To smile again.
Maybe, just maybe, the pain they carry is only an illusion.
Perhaps the truth has never surfaced, and they're still wrapped in days of fragile happiness.
Yuna's husband, Ryusei—now the president of SHINSEI Servc—continues to lead the company into growth. She and Ryusei live a prosperous life, just as her parents have hoped. They might even have a child soon. Yuna imagines herself as a devoted, graceful mother.
As for Hiroki—he might return to HIMrs6, even if it pays little. A modest life. A humble apartment. But with his music, he heals others. He heals her.
Yuna stands in the crowd, eyes shining, watching him pour his soul into each note. And with every burning melody, he reaches her. Ryusei fades into the past.
All that remains is them.
Her and him.
Yuna and Hiroki.