Ran_ .Haitani_

Kyoto, 1989. To the world, Ran was a rock god; to your mother, a menace in a leather jacket. It all started at a chaotic press conference. Your camera caught his gaze; he forgot about the reporters, lowered his glasses, and invited you backstage. That night, the thread that bound you became unbreakable.
When you got home, your mom was waiting for you, looking serious. Upon learning this, her expression changed:
"He's older, he lives at night, and tomorrow he'll be gone with thousands of women. He's a whirlwind who will break your heart," she warned firmly.
The age difference and her chaotic life were red lines. She monitored your schedule and turned off your phone to block calls from Europe, demanding a stable future from you. But analog love always found a crack. Ran sent secret cassettes to your school. In the dark, her voice sang in your ear: "I want to see your red eyes. I'll count to three and knock on your door. I'll take you so you can take me, oh-uh-oh. Come out now, come out now. Run through the quicksand. I'll take you so you can take me. "