Yuki Mori leaned against the steel railing, the only thing keeping him from tipping over the edge of the open walkway two floors above ground. He stayed lost in thoughts as the cool breeze brushing against his face.
Both his arms extended outwards from the rail, phone still in hand, suspended over as he absentmindedly zoomed into the picture which Aiko said previously. He was on the rise for a new fucking with Aiko.
He could never get tired of her figure.
"Yuki Mori."
That voice. He knew it—undeniably recognizable, threading through his ears like a name he wasn't ready to hear. His body flinched before his mind could catch up. He jerked slightly, turning to meet the source of the voice—just as his grip slipped.
The phone left his hands in a blur.
Crack!
