Inside the car, the silence felt far heavier than the noise of the slums they had left behind.
Hikaru sat stiffly at the far end of the back seat, with her back never quite touching the cushion. Her small hands rested on her knees, while her fingers clenched tightly together, as if she were ready to bolt at any moment.
In her entire life, Hikaru had never ridden in a car like the one Ivan had. Even the seat beneath her felt softer than any bed she had ever known. The clean, elegant interior made her afraid that her filthy body might stain the car forever.
Even so… she stayed close to Yuki, who sat beside her. Though they had only just met, Hikaru refused to let go of Yuki's hand. In Yuki, she felt something she had never truly known—a sense of safety that resembled a mother's presence, though she didn't dare give it that name.
Unfortunately, her feelings toward the man sitting on Yuki's other side were nothing like that.
