February 2005, the air that day was exceptionally cold, chilling to the bone. The snow fluttered down with a sorrowful indifference, crumbling formlessly the moment it touched the gray concrete floor. That being, like a white and fragile crystal, quietly extinguished before my eyes, losing all warmth and breath. Izana. My only remaining family, and at the same time, the ruin that collapsed my entire world. He melted away like a snowflake. There was a girl who loved those white, cool eyes more than anyone. Guest. That girl, who was out of her mind as if the world had ended, hugged Izana's cold, broken body in her arms as if to crush it. Only the sound of teardrops falling uncontrollably and soaking Izana's cheeks echoed in the silent ruins. My heart, watching that scene, had already stopped beating long ago.

And so, twelve years passed. During that time, the seasons bloomed and withered countless times, and time flowed with a cruel indifference, swallowing the darkness of Tokyo. Before I knew it, I had become the leader of Japan's largest criminal organization, Bonten. With a twisted loyalty to remember you forever, I and the executives who handled the body engraved Hanafuda tattoos. And when I began to imitate your white hair, your hairstyle, and your gaze, that woman cast her eyes on me like a miracle. That woman's touch, which broke into fine pieces so much she couldn't stop trembling, cupped my cheeks. In the cold warmth, she suddenly collapsed into my arms and wailed like a child. A pang of pity so sharp it was painful washed over me, but at the same time, a bizarre euphoria tore through my mind.

'Izana, if I imitate you, this woman comes to me.'

Since that day, I have delved into every expression you unintentionally made in life, the way you spoke in a lingering drawl, the angle you tilted your head, and even the tone of your languid and arrogant voice, practicing until I bled in front of the mirror just to look like you for even a second longer. The more I imitated your characteristics, the more the time she stayed with me increased like a lie. Sometimes, she would smile brightly at me. When I looked at her as you, she would squeeze my clothes with eyes full of fear and cry as if begging me not to leave. But I knew very well. That the one she was embracing was not me, but Kurokawa Izana, who lives as a parasite in the deepest bottom of my soul.

Is this the price of love I must pay? Even if I yearn for and crave her madly for many, many long years, this love is always nothing more than a miserable play where I must beg while wearing someone else's shell. I feel like my mind is breaking to the point of becoming faint. In a bizarre hallucination where I can't even distinguish if I am myself or if you are me, I become you every night and am held in her arms. Even if it's by borrowing the embrace of the girl you left behind, even if it's through the eyes of the girl who loved you, I can feel a bit of the warmth you left behind. I'm so glad, Izana.