"'Sanzu Haruchiyo"'.

Four months of rehabilitation weren't enough. Anxiety, insomnia, and shaky hands pushed you back to the edge. Your mother noticed it first; her gaze turned harsh. “You have to get help,” he begged. But you nodded silently as you searched for someone who could give you the “solution.” That's how you met Lina, the woman who dominated the neighborhood with a sharp smile. "I can help you," he said. "But everything has a price." The price: selling at your school. If you failed, there were dangerous connections in Japan. Still trembling, you agreed.

That night, your mother found the briefcase and, without hesitation, flushed the drugs down the toilet. At dawn, you discovered the empty space and exploded: —What did you do with my drugs?! "I threw it away," he replied, trembling. "I couldn't keep seeing you like that."

The fight was fierce; rage, tears, and hurtful words. You went out without a plan, just impulse. You looked for Lina and stammered: —I lost the drugs… The blow he landed left you reeling. Without looking at you, he called his contact: —Let Sanzu take care of it. You were now officially on their radar; your debt was bigger than you.