The sound of the wind in the trees was suddenly swallowed by a mechanical roar.
Asuka stopped. She didn't turn her head at first, she only felt the change in the air. The 'bruised purple' mist behind her was suddenly sliced open by a pair of violent, artificial white light.
Asuka's breath hitched. She turned slowly, her strawberry-blonde hair blowing across her face in the sudden rush of wind.
Through the glare, she saw it—the black shadow of a heavy machine, a predator made of metal, coming towards her. It wasn't slowing down. It was drifting, the tires biting into the footpath at the edge of the road with a harsh, rhythmic rattling.
'Oh...'
That was her only thought. It wasn't a scream. It was just a quiet realization.
Her deep red eyes widened, reflecting the twin suns of the Mercedes' high lights. In that fraction of a second, the world became incredibly detailed.
She saw the tiny droplets of mist falling in the light. She felt the weight of the pink box in her arms. She even noticed the way the driver's side was dark and shadowed.
She tried to move, her boots slipped slightly on the wet road, but her body felt heavy, like it was made of stone.
"Mom..." she whispered, the word lost in the roar of the engine.
She didn't look at the car anymore. She looked up, past the blinding lights, at the dark, heavy clouds one last time. She squeezed the birthday present to her chest, her fingers locking tight around the silk ribbon.
Then, the light swallowed her whole.
The world didn't explode with a bang; it fractured with a heavy, muffled thud.
The corner of the black Mercedes caught Asuka just as she tried to move away. The force was absolute. For a split second, she felt the cold, hard steel of the bumper against her hip, and then the world became a mix of spinning dark trees and blinding white light.
The small pink box was torn from her grip. It flew through the air, the silk ribbon unraveling. It bounced once on the road before landing face-down in the thick, black mud at the edge of the ditch. The 'Happy Birthday' card along with the ribbon was instantly stained brown by the rainwater.
Asuka didn't fall; she was thrown.
Her body hit the soft, tall grass of the edge. She slid several feet, her weight flattening the green stalks into the earth. She finally came to a rest near the deep water ditch, her long coat fanned out around her like broken wings.
Asuka's vision began to blur. Her last thought wasn't of the pain or the man who ran a car over her. It was of her mother, sleeping upstairs, waiting for a daughter who would never walk through the door.
Inside the Mercedes, the silence was unreal.
Seijurou sat frozen, his chest moving up and down. He hit his hand against his forehead, but he was barely feeling the pain because of the alcohol
"Damn it... damn it all," he grumbled, his voice a mess.
With a violent motion, he threw the bottle of red wine onto the passenger seat. It landed hard, the cap popping off as the dark, expensive liquid spread across the beige leather. It looked like a fresh wound bleeding into the seat, but Seijurou didn't even glance at it.
'A dog?' he thought, his mind racing in circles. 'Or a cat? Just some stray... it has to be just some stray animal.'
He cursed Kaori's name under his breath, the bitterness still tasting like ash in his mouth. He shoved the door open, the cold air hitting him like a slap. He stumbled out, his legs heavy and uncooperative.
He moved a few steps back towards the dark part of the bypass. The bright lights cut through the mist, showing a shape in the grass.
His heart stopped.
It wasn't an animal.
It was a girl.
Seijurou stopped dead. He rubbed his eyes quickly, as if he could discard the image away. His eyebrows shot up in pure, unfiltered shock.
'Shit...' the word echoed in the empty space of his mind. 'Shit, shit, shit.'
His hand flew to his chin, his fingers digging into his skin as his brain tried to process the 'lifeless' figure lying in the dirt.
"Oh, no... no, no, no!"
He broke into a desperate run. His expensive shoes slipped on the wet pavement, and he lost his balance and bent down hard on one knee, but he got back up instantly, ignoring the pain. He reached her side, his breath coming in uneven gasps.
"Hey! Hey, kid!" He stood over her, his hands trembling so violently he couldn't even touch her at first. "Wake up! Come on, don't... don't play a prank on me. This isn't funny!"
Then, he saw the sight. It was terrific in its horror.
Asuka's coat was no longer its original color; it was soaked in a deep, spreading red. Her skin, usually so full of life, had been drained of every drop of color, turning ghostly white.
Her deep red eyes were wide open, staring past him at the sky, fixed on something he couldn't see.
"What have I done?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "What did I do?!"
He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently as if he could bring the life back into her.
"Hey! Girl! Respond to me! Where is your family? Tell me where you live!" He was shouting now, the panic turning into a fever.
"I'll take you to the best hospital in the country! I have the money! I can fix this! Just... just say something!"
But Asuka didn't blink. The silence coming from her was louder than his screaming.
With a shaking, blood-stained hand, Seijurou reached for her wrist. He pressed his fingers against the cold skin, searching for a spark—a beat—anything.
Nothing.
There was no pulse.
Not a single throb of a heartbeat. The world had stopped for her.
Seijurou's eyes went wide. The shock hit him so hard he let go of her hand, watching it fall heavily back into the flattened grass. He moved backward on his hands and knees, staring at her in complete disbelief.
"No... this isn't happening," he choked out, the tears finally spilling over. "This can't be happening..."
The 'Ice' cracked. The 'CEO' vanished. What was left was just SEIJUROU—a man whose wife had betrayed him, whose life was a lie, and who had now taken an innocent girl's life.
He looked at her small, broken form, and the weight of what he had become—a killer—crushed him.
"I'm sorry.." he sobbed, his head bowing until it almost touched the mud. "I didn't see you... I swear, I didn't see you. I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..."
He looked at his hands, stained with her blood and the red wine, unable to tell the difference in the dark. He looked like a child who had broken something he could never fix.
Seijurou stayed on his knees, his expensive suit ruined, his dignity gone. He was no longer a king of industry. He was just a 'mere being,' sobbing in 3:00 in the morning over a girl who would never see her eighteenth birthday.
_PRESENT DAY_
_SEPTEMBER 30th, 2016. TOKYO. 3:57 P.M._
The memory of twelve hours vanished, replaced by the harsh afternoon sun hitting the brick walls of the alley. Mr. Kamitani stood by the car window, his chest heaving, his face a mask of trembling fury.
"What did you do next?" Mr. Kamitani's voice was a rough whisper. "After you realized there was no pulse... what did you do, Mr. Kanzaki?"
Seijurou leaned back into the plush leather, looking directly into Mr. Kamitani's eyes without a flicker of guilt. "What else could I have done?" he asked, his tone terrifyingly casual. "She was already dead. The world had already moved on from her."
"So you didn't even try?" Mr. Kamitani snapped, his voice rising. "You didn't call an ambulance? You didn't try to save her?"
Seijurou let out a short, dry chuckle. He adjusted his silk shirt's collar with agonizing slow movements.
"Mr. Kamitani, please. Come back to reality and listen to my words carefully. Pay attention. Lawyers are paid for their logic, not their emotions. By the time I stepped out of that car—by the time I even reached her—she was gone. There was nothing to save but a legal headache."
Mr. Kamitani turned away, the air in the alleyway feeling too thin to breathe. He rubbed his palm hard against his forehead, closing his eyes as he whispered a silent prayer to God for patience. He felt sick, the image of Asuka in the mud burning in his mind.
"Don't worry about the case." Seijurou said, clearing his throat.
Mr. Kamitani looked back at him, his eyes cold and empty. "What?"
"The evidence.." Seijurou said, his smile widening just a fraction. "Every single thread linking me to that bypass has been cut. Every camera, every witness, every drop of wine on that seat—it's all been... covered up. There is no one who can see through the wall I've built."
He leaned closer to the window, his gaze sharpening like a blade. "All I need now is a professional. A lawyer with a flawless reputation who can stand in that courtroom and win with absolute confidence. Someone the public trusts."
Mr. Kamitani's jaw tightened until it ached. "And who," he asked, his voice dripping with loathing, "is supposed to be fighting this case for you?"
Seijurou laughed—a warm, genuine sound that felt like ice water down Mr. Kamitani's spine.
"Who else would it be, Mr. Kamitani?" Seijurou's eyes locked onto his. "It's going to be you."
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