𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 Kazutora Hanemiya

Chapter One

❝WHO KILLED HER?❞

THE WIND WAS DESCRIBED AS COLD, and the breath of gospels it brought flowed with a mellow chime, winding away from the cluster of fumes and dust. The sun was on its way out, dyeing the sky in various majestic hues—endless, timeless, simply breathtaking—for the eyes to consume. It was an ephemeral and hypnotic moment that the two barely silhouetted frames, who stood rooted under the bridge, kilometers away from the city, indulged in.

It appeared as though time was drifting slowly. It was pleasant.

In silence, he watches her, while she relinquishes herself to the soothing flow of water on the shallow river. She was humming a tune he was familiar with, as it was the same melodious tune she would always hum whenever there were no words spoken between them.

Unsettlingly, his eyes lingered over her figure. He adores watching on her, whether in secret or in open. He considers her an exquisite work of art that only he is permitted to appreciate.

Her strands of hair flutter slightly. Her back was turned on him, as he stood further behind her, leaning upon the ingrained concrete to support his weight.

It was peaceful, and she was so engrossed in the absence of communication that she nearly forgot that he was with her at the moment. And this transient eternity she lauds greatly withered unpredictably as his low tone of voice surged in the surrounding.

"Don't you think this would be the best place to die?" Kazutora spoke, as he deters his form from the soiled wall.

She seems internally perplexed. Her thoughts wander to his favored words as cold air pierces her lungs when she exhales forcefully.

She parted her lips in uncertainty, hearing his footsteps nearing where she was set.

"What do you mean?" Y/N queried him as she slightly shifted her head, attempting to gaze at his form that was now pressed against her.

A warmth was shared between them. Relishing and building no fortifications against his will as it has been a common occurrence of this intimacy they shared as both grew fond of each other in their childhood. His hands were settled on her waist as he rested his head on the crook of her neck, burrowing deeper until his hair tickled her exposed covering.

There was a momentarily deafening silence before an enticing twisted event transpired. It was, however, thoroughly planned by a certain someone, and the result failed not to brim him with boundless delight.

Kazutora's breaths wafted against her skin as the lance he discreetly brought pierced deeper through her flesh, nipping at her insides with a foreign coldness: she was unaware.

His lips curve upward diabolically, muttering words that only he and she will ever know.

❝I'm just wondering if I could make you mine alone if I kill you right here, right now, where nobody knows.❞