The silence of the mansion at night felt unnatural. Not a single creak of wood or chirp of a cricket dared disturb the air. Keita—or rather, Toru Hazama now—sat on the edge of his bed, bathed in the blue of moonlight pouring through the blinds. The walls felt too clean. The air smelled faintly of roses and wine. He hadn't slept in days.
His heart had started racing the moment he saw Reina's reflection in the hallway mirror earlier that day. She wasn't his wife, but her smile, her hair, her soft eyes—they mirrored the woman who once shared his life. Only, this Reina was younger, untouched by years of financial strain or bitterness. She laughed more. She dressed boldly. She bent over in ways that were clearly intentional. This version of her haunted him more than any memory.
And then there was Mika.
The step-sister with fire in her voice and an eerie resemblance to Keita's daughter. He couldn't look at her for more than a second without his chest clenching. Her presence was wrong. Everything was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to have a body that looked like this. Or a life filled with manga tropes and sexual tension drawn from the darkest corners of fanservice.
But this world wanted something from him. It craved indulgence.
That night, he heard the soft clink of glass outside his door. Then a giggle. Then a voice he could never forget.
"Toru...? Are you awake?"
His door creaked open.
Reina stood there with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. She was wearing a silk nightgown, so thin it looked like fog wrapped around her body. Her scent hit him like nostalgia dipped in perfume.
"I... I couldn't sleep," she whispered. "Can I come in? Just for a minute."
Keita's hands clenched the bedsheets.
He didn't answer. He couldn't.
She entered anyway.
Reina sat beside him, the bed shifting under her weight. Her shoulder brushed his. Her thigh rested lightly against his. It wasn't the touch that disturbed him—it was how familiar it felt. As if he'd done this exact thing before in another life. As if this world was crafted for this moment.
"My husband... he's always away. I think he married me for status."
Keita didn't move. He stared straight ahead.
Reina leaned on his shoulder.
"You're so mature, Toru," she said with a breathy chuckle. "So unlike other boys your age. You listen... you feel things. I can tell."
He turned his face slightly. Her eyes were half-closed. Her lips parted.
A warning screamed in his skull. But the silence was louder.
"This isn't real," he muttered. "You're not her. This isn't real."
"Then pretend," she whispered.
Her hand touched his cheek.
He thought of his wife. He thought of his daughter.
He didn't stop Reina when she leaned in.
He didn't pull away when her lips found his.
And he hated himself.
The kiss deepened. His breathing quickened. But even as her arms wrapped around him, his heart felt cold. The guilt didn't drown out the heat. It amplified it. This world was built on perversion—but he had laid the foundation. These were his characters. His tropes. His stories. And now, he was inside the poison he once drew with trembling hands.
As they kissed deeply, lost in the heat of their shared desire, Keita's hand found its way under Reina's back, grazing the smooth skin between her shoulder and neck. His touch was electric, sending shocks straight to her core. She gasped against his mouth.
Then came his teeth, finding the sensitive curve of her collarbone, leaving a faint sting that quickly morphed into an intense ache. She arched off the bed instinctively, welcoming his mouth wherever it traveled.
She felt Keita shift slightly beside her. His arm slid around her waist now, pulling her closer against him.
He didn't answer verbally; he simply held her tighter, his lips finding the sensitive curve of her earlobe. A shiver raced down her spine.
"Keita," she whispered warningly.
"This isn't right," she insisted, trying to pull away.
"It shouldn't be," he agreed softly. "But somehow... it feels like it is."
He didn't wait for her response. His hands found their way under the hem of her oversized t-shirt, his touch sending electric shocks through her body.
"What are you doing?" she gasped as his fingers brushed against the skin of her back.
"I'm tired of thinking," he murmured before claiming her lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly became hungry and desperate.
They stumbled onto his bed, tangled sheets forgotten for now. The kisses deepened, consuming both of them.
As their clothes came off haphazardly – Reina's t-shirt being pulled over her head by Keita's persistent hands – their movements became bolder. Keita rolled Reina onto her back beneath him. Her breasts were freed from the confines of her pajama top, pressing against the cool air and the hard plane of his chest.
He lowered his head towards one of them, his gaze locked on her face.
"Tell me," he breathed, his voice rough with need.
"Keita " Reina moaned instinctively, his husband's escaping her mind .
Keita tilted his head back slightly and laughed softly into her ear before nipping sharply on her nipple.
Reina gasped at the sharp pain mixed with intense pleasure. "Oh! Keita!" she cried out.
He repeated the action on her other breast, alternating between gentle sucks and harder bites. Each sensation drove her closer to a precipice she hadn't known existed. She arched her back off the bed, pressing her breasts more firmly against his mouth and jaw.
His grip tightened on her waist as he continued his assault, his actions becoming more frantic. She tangled her hands in his dark hair, pulling him closer still.
"More..." she whispered breathlessly as he moved down her body, kissing a path across her stomach towards the waistband of her pajama pants.
He paused there. "Your pants," he stated flatly.
Reina blinked up at him. "What?"
He looked down at her pajama pants then back at her face. "You're wearing... underwear?"
"Underwear?" Reina echoed, bewildered for a moment before understanding dawned.
"Oh! No... my pajamas are just... normal night clothes." She blushed furiously, reaching down instinctively towards the waistband of her loose-fitting sleep pants. "I mean... I usually sleep..."
Keita reached forward faster than she could pull them down. His fingers hooked under the elastic band before she could finish unfastening them herself.
"Don't touch them!" Reina protested weakly.
But it was too late. The waistband gave way under his fingers. Her pajama pants dropped to her ankles in one smooth motion.
For a split second, there was just fabric lying on the bed where her pants had been, revealing the simple lace of her tiny matching panties underneath.
Then Keita looked at her with undisguised desire in his eyes.
"No bra?" he asked softly, tracing the swell of one breast with his fingertip before letting out a low groan.
Reina's face burned scarlet as she realized what was happening – what she was willing. The wine was still swirling in her system, loosening inhibitions she thought long buried. The confusion about Keita melted away, replaced by an undeniable passion mirroring his own.
She didn't stop him as he pulled at the waistband of his own trousers.
The scene shifted again – frantic fingers undoing buttons and zippers; skin pressed against skin in a messy tangle; heated breaths shared between gasps; moans filling the quiet apartment; Reina arching beneath him as his touch became both possessive and worshipful.
The line had been crossed long ago – first by her unexpected crawl into his bed,
His attention soon moved lower, tracing the swell of her breasts through the thin fabric of her pajama top. Reina couldn't resist his touch. She tugged impatiently at his shirttails until they were bunched high on his back, freeing her breasts entirely.
Keita looked down at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he murmured before lowering his head again. He captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the hard peak before nipping sharply.
A sharp cry escaped Reina's lips as pleasure warred with pain. It felt like a drug, addictive and powerful. She clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer. He repeated the action on the other breast, his movements becoming more possessive, more demanding. Each suck was followed by a sharp bite that had her writhing beneath him, lost in sensations she never knew existed.
"I need... more," she gasped, unable to form complete sentences.
Keita chuckled low in his throat, a rough sound against her skin. He released her breasts momentarily, his gaze dropping to her waistband. Without waiting for consent, his fingers hooked under the elastic of her pajama pants and panties, pulling them down swiftly. Reina didn't stop him; she just wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, needing his touch even lower.
His fingers found her folds immediately. His touch was firm, exploring with a knowing intensity that had her hips grinding against his hand. He didn't just stroke; he pinched and rubbed, finding her clit with practiced precision, his thumb pressing down hard, teasing it relentlessly.
"Mmm," Reina moaned, her hips lifting off the bed. "Yes... oh god, yes."
Keita looked up at her from his position between her legs, his expression unreadable but intense. "Tell me what you want," he commanded, his voice rough with his own arousal.
Reina met his gaze, lost in a haze of pleasure and need. "I want... your mouth," she whispered desperately.
He didn't hesitate. He aligned himself with her entrance, pushing forward with surprising force and heat. Reina cried out at the fullness, at the sheer overwhelming sensation of him inside her. It wasn't gentle; it was demanding, a collision of bodies desperate for connection.
He began to move against her, withdrawing slightly before plunging back in, his thrusts deep and piston-like. Each movement elicited sharp cries from Reina. His hand returned to her clit, his thumb applying pressure with expert knowledge.
"Keita !" Reina sobbed his name aloud, the echo feeling both wrong and right.
Keita laughed softly, a dark sound swallowed by their ragged breathing. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he was pounding into her relentlessly. She felt a shattering climax building within her, powerful and consuming. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she climaxed wildly, screaming his name over and over.
She collapsed back onto the bed, spent and trembling, while Keita continued moving within her for a long moment before collapsing beside her. The intensity of their shared release hung heavy in the air between them.
The line was blurred not just by alcohol once, but by the raw power of need and desire, leaving them both adrift in a sea of consequence they hadn't yet measured.
Reina pulled him down to the bed. Their limbs tangled. Breath mingled.
And as the moonlight dimmed, Keita gave in.
He felt nothing.
When it was over, Reina whispered, "You're the only one who sees me, Toru..."
Keita stared at the ceiling.
He didn't reply.
She fell asleep beside him, curled like a lover. And he, with eyes wide open, imagined the rooftop. The wind. The smile he wore before death.
"If this is hell," he said aloud, "they made it look like paradise."
Somewhere, a laugh echoed in the corners of his mind. Familiar. Mocking.
His editor? His ex-wife? Or one of his characters?
He couldn't tell anymore.
All he knew was that the first fall had begun. And gravity was just getting started
To be continued ..