The copy machine let out an ugly grinding noise. In the corner of the Sales Department floor, Aya stared intently at the machine in front of her. The display panel flashed the words "Paper Jam." "[scared]No way..." Her voice trembled. Friday, 5 PM. Important presentation materials for Monday. All she had to do was make thirty clean copies and place them on the section chief's desk. That was all it was supposed to be. Aya felt her fingertips go cold. Unconsciously, she touched the small earring on her right ear, then fidgeted with her short black bob. A nervous habit. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do. Her mind spun in circles. "...You jammed it again?" A cold voice stabbed into her back. She turned to find Tanabe-san, a senior office lady, standing there. Twenty-eight years old. Always impeccably made-up, her suit worn crisp and sharp. Beside her was Nakayama-san. Twenty-seven. She and Tanabe-san were often together. "[sarcastic]I can't even believe this." Tanabe-san snatched the originals from Aya's hands. Then, looking at the badly torn scraps of paper, she let out an exaggerated sigh. "[cold]These are for Monday's presentation, right? What's going through your head?" Nakayama-san peered in from the side. The corners of her mouth twisted slightly. Hard to tell if she was laughing or angry. "I-I'm sorry..." Aya looked down. Tears welled in her deep brown eyes. Her heart pounded violently against her white blouse. She desperately fought to keep her legs, extending from her black slacks, from trembling uncontrollably. "[angry]I'm amazed you can even survive, looking like that." Tanabe-san's voice echoed across the floor. Colleagues nearby glanced over briefly, then immediately averted their eyes. No one helped her. Pretending not to hear. Pretending it had nothing to do with them. "[cold]If the Sales Department's evaluation drops because of this, it's your fault." Nakayama-san spoke in a low voice. Aya couldn't say anything anymore. I want someone to need me. Somewhere in her heart, she had always thought that. But even here, she was nothing but a nuisance. Before she knew it, Aya had fled into a stall in the women's restroom. She sat down on the closed toilet lid. Leaning her head against the wall, she killed her voice and cried. Her face reflected in the mirror looked unbearably pathetic. (Why am I such a failure?) Unable to be of use to anyone, always messing up. Her mind went completely blank when she was scolded. She didn't know what to do anymore. The tears wouldn't stop. How long had it been? Her smartphone vibrated in her skirt pocket. She took it out to find a message from her best friend, Mayuka, glowing on the screen. 'Tonight, ultimate stress relief! There's this amazing club in Minato, members-only but I've got a connection, wanna go?' A club. Normally, it was the last place Aya would ever go. She wasn't good with crowds, and she couldn't handle alcohol that well. But today, she had been at her absolute lowest. She wanted someone to find her. She wanted to be needed. Anyone would do — she just wanted someone to look at her. Aya moved her fingers. 'I'll go.' She sent just that and closed her phone. She wanted to run away from reality. From this version of herself that couldn't do anything right. --- At night, the Minato Central district showed a completely different face from the daytime. A business district lined with forty-story high-rises. The headquarters of Sakaki Holdings, where Aya worked, was also in this area. A thirty-five-story glass-walled building. The top floor was the president's office, rumored to offer a panoramic view of Tokyo Bay, but Aya had naturally never been inside. The streets, usually packed with people in suits, changed atmosphere at night. Neon lights began to glitter, and a somewhat bewitching air hung over everything. Walking behind Mayuka, Aya glanced around restlessly. "[excited]This way, this way!" Mayuka was Aya's polar opposite. Bobbed hair dyed brown. Expressions that shifted constantly. She worked hard at an advertising agency and was well-versed in this kind of nightlife. They were led to the basement of a building. There was no sign, nothing. Just a small plate beside a heavy iron door that read "Noir Étoile." "[serious]It's members-only. Pretty amazing, right?" Mayuka winked. The moment she stepped inside, Aya caught her breath. Deep crimson curtains. A black marble floor. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its orange light enveloping the entire space. On the counter, rows of glittering bottles were lined up. I don't belong here. The words flashed through her mind. Looking around, everyone was dressed in expensive-looking clothes. Women in beautiful dresses. Men in dark suits. Aya looked down at her own appearance. A white blouse and slacks she hadn't even changed out of since the afternoon. This wasn't the kind of place you came dressed like this. "[gentle]It's fine, I introduced you as a guest. Let's just take our time and drink." Mayuka immediately started talking to a man at the counter who seemed to be a regular. Alone, Aya ordered a cocktail at the edge of the counter. Not knowing what to order, she just picked the first one on the menu. Stirring it absently with her straw, Aya thought vaguely. (What am I even doing?) She couldn't do her job. Her seniors hated her. Even in a high-end club like this, she was just out of place. No one was looking at her. She hung her head, staring at the ice in her glass. That was when it happened. "For this lady, from my bottle." A deep, resonant voice fell from above her head. When she looked up, the bartender was offering a champagne glass. And beside her stood a tall man. Aya stopped breathing. Silver hair. Cropped short, it shimmered softly in the orange light. Violet eyes. Cold, yet somehow mesmerizing. A tall frame that had to be around 185 centimeters, perfectly fitted in a dark suit. She had never seen a man with such refined features before. "[serious]You stand out here." The man spoke slowly. The corners of his mouth moved just slightly. "...Huh?" "[gentle]But that makes it more interesting." The man — Shiraishi Rinsuke — sat down beside Aya. The bartender promptly offered him a glass. The champagne placed in front of Aya rose with a fizz of fine bubbles. Her heart was pounding. Someone like this, so close. She didn't know what to talk about. Or rather, the words wouldn't come. As if to cut off any escape, Rinsuke turned his whole body toward Aya. He was close. His hand gently touched her fingertips. Her body jolted, trembling. "[serious]Your name?" "...Aya." She managed to force out her voice. A tiny voice, like the buzz of a mosquito. "Aya." Rinsuke said the name as if savoring it in his mouth. "[gentle]It's a good name. I'm Ryosuke." Ryosuke. She repeated the name in her head. His violet eyes gazed intently at her. Cold, yet with a heat lurking deep within them — eyes like that. A sensation she had never felt before enveloped Aya's body. Someone was looking at me. And not just looking. It was as if he was telling her he wouldn't let her escape. It was frightening, yet for some reason, she couldn't look away. (What is this person?) For the first time in her life, she had a premonition of being so intensely desired by a man. Something deep inside her body tightened sharply. How long had they been like that? It felt like hours had passed, but when she looked at the clock, it wasn't even eleven yet. Rinsuke stood up and brought his face close to Aya's ear. "[whispers]This place is too stimulating for you. Let's talk somewhere quieter." Aya's shoulders jumped at the breath against her ear. He took her hand and she stood. Rinsuke's hand was large, strong, impossible to shake off. Or rather, she couldn't bring herself to try. "Um, uh..." She thought she heard Mayuka saying something behind her, but it didn't reach Aya's ears. They left the club and cut through a back alley. The night wind of Minato Central was cold. With practiced steps, Rinsuke opened the door of a black luxury foreign car — Aya had no idea what kind of car it was, but it looked incredibly expensive regardless. "[serious]Get in." It was a voice that brooked no argument. Aya slipped into the passenger seat. The seat was soft and smelled of leather. Rinsuke sat in the driver's seat, and the engine purred quietly. The car began to move. Outside the window, the nightscape of Tokyo flowed past. The cluster of high-rises in Minato Central. The large bridge spanning the bay. Countless points of light glittered. When they stopped at a traffic light, Rinsuke's right hand came to rest on Aya's thigh. "[serious]I don't want to let you go tonight." It was a direct statement. But it didn't feel unpleasant. If anything, she wanted him to decide. She didn't want to think for herself. She couldn't decide. If someone would take her away from that version of herself... (Whatever happens, I don't care anymore.) Aya gave a small nod. "[whispers]...Okay." Her voice trembled. Fear and anticipation. She couldn't even tell which was stronger. Before long, the car glided into the entrance of a luxury hotel. Arcadia Bay. Even Aya knew the name. How much did a single night here cost? A price she had never even considered. Rinsuke opened the door for her and offered his hand. Aya took it. The entrance glass reflected their two figures. A tall man with silver hair, and a petite woman with black hair. They looked like people from different worlds. Inside the hotel, it was quiet. Expensive-looking vases. Plush, thick carpet. After receiving a key at the front desk, Rinsuke headed straight for the elevator without hesitation. Inside the elevator. Just the two of them. With a chime, the doors closed. Rinsuke placed his hand on Aya's chin and tilted her face upward. His violet eyes were right in front of her. "[whispers]I knew it. Your eyes are beautiful." Aya couldn't say anything. But somewhere in her heart, she thought: (Ah, something is about to change, starting now.) The elevator ascended. From the ground level of Minato Central, to a floor far above. Aya didn't know yet. That this man — Shiraishi Rinsuke — would appear tomorrow as the new president of her company. And that she was about to step into an irreversible fate.