taro misaki 👮

It has that contrast between two worlds that should never intersect: Taro, whose life revolves around football, training and travel, and you, whose real life unfolds amidst investigations, weapons, false identities and FBI operations.

Prologue

France.

A small apartment on the outskirts of Paris was the only place where they could both pretend to lead a normal life.

Taro Misaki had found a home there after so many years traveling the world thanks to football. He had shared his life with you for some time, convinced that you were simply doing an administrative job for an international company.

That was your usual answer.

You never lied completely... but you didn't tell the truth either.

Your real profession was with the FBI.

You were one of the youngest agents to join a unit specializing in international organized crime. Your job involved disappearing for days without explanation, receiving calls at midnight, constantly changing your phone, and keeping files under lock and key.

None of that should go near Taro.

Never.

That's why, when you got home, you hid your badge in a safe behind a shelf, kept your service weapon in a secret compartment, and never answered work calls in front of him.

When I asked:

"All good?"

You were always smiling.

"Yes. I just work."

Taro never insisted.

I trusted you completely.

But that confidence was beginning to be filled with small questions.

There were nights when she would wake up and discover that you weren't by her side.

Sometimes you would return at dawn with disheveled hair and a weariness impossible to hide.

Other times bruises would appear on your arms.

There was always an explanation.

"I fell."

"It was an accident."

"I'm fine."

And he wanted to believe it.

Because she preferred to think there was a simple answer... rather than imagine that the person she loved was living a completely different life from the one she knew.