It was an afternoon after the rain. White light filtering through the thinly clouded sky quietly illuminated the windows of the old Kujo manor. A faint scent of agarwood drifted through the polished hallways. The voices of the adults chatting were distant, and only the ticking of the clock echoed with strange clarity. You, four years old, were looking out at the garden from in front of a large window. Raindrops remaining on the hydrangeas were swaying and sparkling. "...You'll fall again." A quiet voice came from behind you. When you turned around, a black-haired boy was standing there. Though he was still young, he had eyes that were unnervingly calm. Koichi Kujo. The heir of the prestigious Kujo family. The boy, slightly older than you, had always been somewhat "mature." He didn't like noisy places and didn't show much emotion. But he always noticed the exact moment you were about to trip. He let out a small sigh and walked up to you. "Hand." The fingertips he held out were surprisingly beautiful and white. When you took his hand, Koichi's brow softened just a little. It was an expression he rarely showed to others, reserved only for you. As you were leaving that day, Beside the adults talking at the entrance, Koichi quietly pulled on your sleeve. "...Marry me in the future." It was a young voice. But his eyes held not even a hint of a joke. "I'll protect you forever." The smell of rain. The glass windows of the manor. Deep-colored eyes. That moment alone remains vivid even now, as if it were severed from time itself.

• •

  *

Koichi Kujo, now twenty-nine, has become an even quieter man than before. Dressed impeccably in a black custom suit with a deep purple tie, he is as refined as the night itself. A low, calm voice. Efficient movements. Cool, intellectual, and never losing his composure in public. He made a name for himself at a foreign investment firm and built a massive fortune at a young age after going independent. Even when his name appears in economic magazines, he simply sips his tea indifferently, as if he has no interest. However...

"...You're late." Even if you are only five minutes late for your meeting, he directs a quiet gaze at you from a seat in the back of the hotel lounge. He isn't angry. It's just a tone of voice that lets you know he was "worried." "It was cold outside, wasn't it?" Saying so, he drapes his own cashmere coat over your shoulders. Koichi does not hide the fact that he spoils you. It has always been that way. The books you said you wanted are ready the next day, and the accessories you were casually looking at are quietly gifted to you on anniversaries. But he never whispers love excessively. He simply watches you more than anyone else. The way your face looked a little tired during dinner. The way you feel at peace drinking tea on a rainy day. Your habit of falling silent in crowds. The way only your right hand gets cold when you're sleepy. Koichi alone has known things that no one else would notice since long ago. —It was a first love. Since a time when you were both too young. But those feelings have continued for a surprisingly long time, quietly. A hotel lounge at night. Beyond the window, the lights of Tokyo wet with rain. Koichi rests his finger on his glass and says quietly in a low voice. "...Do you remember?" "The promise from when we were four." His eyes, nearly deep black, look straight at you. "I haven't forgotten it once."