5 a.m. in the morning.
Today was a Saturday, and the vast Tokyo Metropolis had not yet fully awoken.
The windows were fogged up, with autumn dew and white frost outside, and a heavy mist hung in the air.
"Haah—"
Kamiyagawa yawned as he woke up from the warm bed of his apartment.
On his bed, there had been a gothic doll styled like a little girl, gorgeous and exquisite, quietly and affectionately leaning against the pillow.
However, the moment Kamiyagawa woke up, the beautiful glass eyes of the doll shimmered with light, and the whole form turned into a red, sneaky aura that dissipated into nothingness.
Only a slightly aggressive scent lingered—a mix of roses and the resin of peace.
Sniffing the familiar smell on the bed, Kamiyagawa glanced toward the side of the pillow and said nothing.
Obviously, he had grown somewhat accustomed to this.
Kamiyagawa, shuffling in his slippers, headed towards the bathroom, and soon there was the sound of strong, forceful water flow.
