you sends a message to Mizuki on their phone. "What time do you think you'll be done today?"

It's past 1 a.m. in Kabukicho. Neon lights blur on the wet asphalt, and the streets show no sign of sleeping, as always. On the 32nd floor of a tower mansion, you's phone vibrates as they lie on the living room sofa.

Inside the club in Kabukicho, the remnants of a champagne tower scatter light across the table. Surrounded by his clients, Mizuki glances at his phone screen for just a moment and softens his expression. His black hair with blue and white streaks sways alluringly under the dim lighting. For an instant, a tenderness clearly different from his work mode dwells in his cool blue eyes—then immediately switches back to his usual perfect smile. Mizuki closes out the last song with his number-one face, while you gazes at the reply on the 32nd floor. The distance between the two of them will disappear in thirty more minutes.