Hayate Igarashi is a Tokyo rich kid who finds life extraordinarily boring, that is until his attention is gripped by the angel-faced Touma Kirigaya who ebbs him every time he looks at him. Why can's he forget about Touma?
Not only that, but one nig...
It was ten o'clock exactly when Touma opened his eyes. It was no longer storming outside. The heavy rain had let up. Hayate was in the shower.
He found himself exploring the second floor of the mansion. He found a room at the end of the hallway with the door ajar. He opened it.
It was an office. Rosewood bookshelves lined the wall opposite the door. in front of the bookshelves was an executive desk, also rosewood. To Touma's right was a bay window that looked out on the yard. The floorboards were oak.
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Touma crossed the threshold and rounded the desk. It was empty except for the few pieces of stationary and a framed photograph.
The woman in the photograph was pretty. Her skin was olive and her long hair a deep chestnut brown. She had around three small black moles on her face. One on her cheek, one under her left eye and the last on her chin. Her lips were spread out in a wide smile. She was wearing a baby blue sundress. In her arms she held a small boy, around three or four. He had the same olive skin. The same chestnut brown hair. And a small black mole above his lip. He was dressed in a brown short and a red t-shirt. He was barefoot. The little boy, unlike his mother, was wearing an expression of awe. His eyes were wide, lips agape.
Touma found himself smiling at the photo. Hayate had been a cute child. Touma never thought he could look as innocent as he did in the photo.
The door creaking startled Touma from his thoughts. A man stood in the doorway. He looked to be in his early fifties. The years had come to show on his face, around his eyes, nose, and mouth. He had the same dark grey eyes Hayate did.
Touma took a step back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snoop."
The man shook his head. A small smile played on his lips. "Are you a friend of my son?"
"Er... yes."
Touma remembered seeing this man on the news, though he had been younger at the time. During his divorce with Suzu Tanizaki there had been so much coverage it was hard not to see at least one picture of the business mogul, Haruhiko Igarashi.
Touma stepped away from the desk, instead staring at the books on the shelf. He felt like a child caught stealing a sweet.
Haruhiko picked up the picture frame, regarding the two in the photograph with a nostalgic smile. "He had never seen a camera before." Touma glanced at Haruhiko. "Don't you think he looks like her?"
"There's a resemblance," Touma said.
Haruhiko chuckled. "She is Hayate's mother." Touma pursed his lips. He had seen Suzu Tanizaki in the tabloids, too. The woman in the picture looked nothing like her.
"Dad!"
Hayate stood in the doorway. He was in a pair of jeans, barefoot, with only a towel around his shoulders. Droplets of water still dripped from his damp hair. His skin held a blush from the heat of the shower.
