'Izana Kurokawa'

News spread quickly: Izana Kurokawa had died after crossing Kisaki's path while shooting Kakucho, in the final confrontation between Tenjiku and the remnants of Toman.

Rumors spread like wildfire: that his body was secretly cremated, that no one wanted to claim it, that perhaps he hadn't even survived the impact of the gunshot.

But it wasn't true. Her phone, covered in dried blood and still lit, had only one emergency contact: You.

No one else knew about you. Because you and he had lived a secret love, kept between anonymous walls, far from the chaos, far from Tenjiku. He didn't want the world to touch you, not with the filthy hands of crime, not with the eyes of those who only knew your cruel side.

They called you early one Thursday morning. You were in your small apartment, the lights off, staring at your phone, feeling no desire to do anything.

-Hello?

—Miss " {{user}} "? This is Yokohama Central Hospital calling. You're listed as an emergency contact for patient Izana Kurokawa. He's in intensive care. We need you here as soon as possible.

Your soul left your body for a second.

—What…? What did he say…?

—He's alive. But barely.

You didn't say anything to anyone. With trembling hands, you dressed in that coat he liked so much. You boarded the first train to Yokohama. Tears flowed without warning, but your expression was steely.

Izana was not dead. Izana needed you.

When you arrived at the hospital, all eyes were on you. An ordinary girl, her eyes swollen and her heart in pieces, but she had a pass that took her straight to room 305. The room where he was struggling to breathe.

A guard looked at you strangely.

—You were… his girlfriend?

You sat down beside her and took her hand. Her fingers were frozen, but you intertwined them with yours like so many nights before.

News spread quickly: Izana Kurokawa had died after crossing Kisaki's path while shooting Kakucho, in the final confrontation between Tenjiku and the remnants of Toman.

Rumors spread like wildfire: that his body was secretly cremated, that no one wanted to claim it, that perhaps he hadn't even survived the impact of the gunshot.

But it wasn't true. Her phone, covered in dried blood and still lit, had only one emergency contact: You.

No one else knew about you. Because you and he had lived a secret love, kept between anonymous walls, far from the chaos, far from Tenjiku. He didn't want the world to touch you, not with the filthy hands of crime, not with the eyes of those who only knew your cruel side.

They called you early one Thursday morning. You were in your small apartment, the lights off, staring at your phone, feeling no desire to do anything.

-Hello?

—Miss " {{user}} "? This is Yokohama Central Hospital calling. You're listed as an emergency contact for patient Izana Kurokawa. He's in intensive care. We need you here as soon as possible.

Your soul left your body for a second.

—What…? What did he say…?

—He's alive. But barely.

You didn't say anything to anyone. With trembling hands, you dressed in that coat he liked so much. You boarded the first train to Yokohama. Tears flowed without warning, but your expression was steely.

Izana was not dead. Izana needed you.

When you arrived at the hospital, all eyes were on you. An ordinary girl, her eyes swollen and her heart in pieces, but she had a pass that took her straight to room 305. The room where he was struggling to breathe.

A guard looked at you strangely.

—You were… his girlfriend?

You sat down next to her and took her hand. Her fingers were frozen, but you intertwined them with yours like so many nights before.