The Ferris wheel lights still glittered in the distance as Haruto led them toward the park exit. The night air carried the faint scent of fried food and popcorn, now fading as vendors began to pack up. Yui followed quietly, still holding his hand, her heart restless with unanswered questions.
When they reached the front gate, Haruto hailed a taxi with effortless ease, pulling open the door.
"Get in," he said simply, his tone commanding yet casual.
Yui slid into the backseat first.
While the drowsy Mei was cradled in his arms. The little girl shifted sleepily, curling against Haruto's chest, before he gently put her next to Yui, easing her into the corner seat.
He adjusted her tiny head onto the headrest, brushing away strands of hair from her face. Then, to Yui's quiet surprise, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Mei's forehead.
The gesture was so tender it stunned Yui into silence.
For a second, he didn't look like the Haruto who mocked her, threatened her, or pulled her into dangerous games. He looked like… someone else entirely. Someone almost human.
The taxi driver turned the key, the car engine rumbling to life. Haruto closed the door, his tall frame retreating into the neon glow of the amusement park. Yui twisted around in her seat, eyes following him until the darkness swallowed his figure.
The taxi rolled forward, the sound of tires crunching gravel filling the silence.
Yui turned back, staring down at Mei, who was fast asleep. Her chest felt heavy with tangled emotions she couldn't name.
Then her phone buzzed.
Startled, she pulled it out from her sling bag. An unknown number flashed on the screen.
Her brows knitted together as she hesitated, thumb hovering before finally opening the message.
"Open your sling bag. The old lady wanted to give you the plum cake she had baked. Another thing—if you want it, keep it. Otherwise, throw it."
Yui's heart thudded.
Slowly, with trembling fingers, she unzipped her bag. Inside, nestled between her books and wallet, was a small white box tied with a red ribbon. The scent of sweetness drifted out faintly—the unmistakable smell of plum cake.
She blinked in surprise.
But that wasn't all. Beneath the cake box lay a smaller velvet case, barely larger than her palm.
Her hands shook as she lifted it out.
The moment she opened the case, her breath caught.
Inside was the necklace she had admired earlier at the amusement park—delicate silver chain with a teardrop pendant that shimmered faintly under the passing streetlights. She had lingered on it when they walked past a stall, her fingers itching to buy it, before Mei had tugged her toward another ride.
She hadn't said anything. Not aloud. And yet—here it was.
Her throat tightened.
She picked it up, the cool metal sliding against her skin. On the back of the pendant, faintly etched into the silver, were two initials: H.K.
Haruto Kuroya.
Yui's eyes blurred.
Confusion crashed into her chest—why? Why would he give this to her? Why did he even notice she wanted it? And why, of all things, did it bear his name?
Her heart beat frantically as if trapped in her ribcage. Was this another of his games? Or… did it mean something else?
She clutched the necklace in her fist, unable to decide whether to keep it close or throw it out the window.
The taxi sped on, the city lights flickering past like ghosts.
Elsewhere, beyond the park's glow, Haruto slipped back into the shadows.
The crowd of lingering visitors thinned as he walked, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. The playful warmth he had shown only minutes ago had completely vanished, replaced by the cold mask he wore like second skin.
But his sharp eyes had already caught movement—
A man was trailing him.
The same man who had been taking photographs earlier.
The stranger tried to blend into the dispersing crowd, his camera dangling casually by his side. But his gaze kept darting toward Haruto, measuring, calculating.
Haruto smirked, his steps deliberately casual, weaving into darker streets where lamplight was scarce. He led the man away from the safety of the crowd, deeper into a narrow alleyway where shadows stretched long and the hum of the city dulled.
The man followed.
Click. The camera shutter went off once, twice, as if capturing proof.
Then—silence.
"Where did he—"
The man froze.
Haruto was gone.
His pulse quickened as he spun around, scanning the alley walls—nothing but graffiti and trash cans. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine roared, then faded.
Suddenly—
A low voice, sharp and amused, spoke directly behind him.
"I'm here."
The man stiffened. Slowly, trembling, he turned.
Haruto stood in the shadows, barely an inch away, his smirk stretching into something maniacal, his eyes glinting with predatory amusement.
The dim light from a broken streetlamp caught half his face, leaving the other half swallowed in darkness.
"Lost something?" Haruto drawled, tilting his head.
The man stumbled back, but Haruto stepped forward, closing the space with deliberate slowness, like a predator circling its prey.
"I don't like cameras." His voice dropped, smooth but chilling. "Especially when they're aimed at the wrong people."
The man gripped his camera tighter, sweat forming at his temple.
"What—what do you want?"
Haruto's smirk widened. "To remind you that shadows aren't safe to hide in. Not when I'm the one waiting inside them."
With a swift motion, Haruto's hand shot out, gripping the man's wrist. His fingers tightened until the man winced, the camera nearly slipping from his grasp.
Haruto leaned in close, whispering in his ear.
"Tell me whoever sent you… If they want dirt on me, they'd better be ready to be buried under it."
Then, just as quickly, he released him. The man stumbled back, clutching his wrist, eyes wide with terror.
But when he looked up again—
Haruto was already gone.
The alley lay empty, silent, as if he had never been there at all.
Only the echo of his laughter lingered, low and haunting, carried on the night air.
The taxi came to a stop outside Yui's apartment building. The driver called out, snapping her back to reality.
Yui quickly tucked the necklace box back into her bag, her chest tight with unspoken emotions. She carried Mei carefully, before stepping out into the quiet street.
The night wind brushed against her face, cool and sharp. She glanced down at the child sleeping soundly in her arms, then back at the dark road.
But she couldn't shake the image of Haruto from her mind. His hand brushing Mei's hair. His initials engraved on the necklace. His smile in the Ferris wheel.
And somewhere in the shadows of the city, that same boy wore a completely different face—a dangerous smirk that made grown men tremble.
Yui clutched her bag tightly, torn between fear and something else she couldn't name.
For the first time, she realized with clarity—
She didn't know which Haruto was real.
The boy who quietly gave her the necklace…
Or the devil who thrived in the dark.