Chapter 11: Ninety-nine days remaining.

Days until your boyfriend, Hoshiya Kaoru, is stolen:
————
Ninety-nine days

…

The next morning, gentle sunlight filtered through half-closed blinds, casting dappled shadows on the light-wood living room floor.

Ayata Aina sat at the dining table, leisurely finishing the breakfast Hoshiya Kaoru had lovingly prepared. Energized, she headed to work.

The packed train was a sardine can—air thick with perfumes, sweat, and breakfast scents.

Squeezed into a corner by the crowd, Ayata Aina barely fished out her phone. The screen’s glow lit her focused face.

She deftly opened email, fingers flying over overnight work messages.

The train’s sway and station announcements blurred into white noise. As it pulled into her stop, the broadcast chimed just as she sent the last reply. She exhaled softly.

Ayata Aina worked admin at a major insurance firm. For a Tokyo University grad, it was average—but enviable among peers.

Behind the gloss lay neon corporate hierarchy.

Barely over a year in, her shallow seniority kept her at the pyramid’s base—low pay, narrow promotions.

She’d simmer as a “newbie” for years.

Monthly salary, after hefty mortgage and daily expenses, left scraps—often penny-pinching.

[Sigh, this is true wage-slave misery!]

Thinking how her tight budget forced Hoshiya Kaoru to suggest part-time work stirred helpless frustration.

“Ayata, don’t sigh the second you arrive.”

Her team leader patted the shoulder of the settling employee, smiling kindly.

“Morning, Leader.”

Ayata Aina snapped alert, greeting brightly.

The mid-thirties leader, also a Tokyo U alumna—her senior—showed extra care, likely for that bond.

“Lately everyone’s swamped. Too tense isn’t good. How about drinks after work? Unwind.”

The leader leaned in, voice low, inviting.

Ayata Aina disliked team outings. Post-work, she craved home with her boyfriend.

Though… now he’d be at the izakaya evenings anyway.

“No thanks, Leader. Home…”

She trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

“So Ayata has a husband? Never mentioned.”

The leader’s volume carried. Nearby colleagues perked, curious glances flying.

“Not married yet…”

Uncomfortable with prying about Kaoru, Ayata Aina squirmed—this was why she’d stayed silent.

The leader caught her reluctance, cutting in:

“Enough nosiness. Back to work.”

She patted Ayata Aina’s shoulder again, returning to her desk.

Ayata Aina dove into the day—finances, contracts.

Morning flew. Lunch break: she unpacked Hoshiya Kaoru’s bento at her desk, eating blissfully.

Colleagues, now knowing of her boyfriend, crowded to admire the gorgeous meal, praising freely.

Done eating, she messaged Hoshiya Kaoru.

He started at five, still home now.

Wage-slave joy was fleeting. Before resuming work, she hit the restroom.

In the stall, Ayata Aina nearly dropped her phone in the toilet.

The app she’d deleted last night—yellow background, white clock—sat brazenly on her screen again.

“What the hell?”

Pupils shrank, brows knotted, eyes blazing. She muttered a curse.

Suppressing rising dread, she long-pressed the glaring icon—wobble—then slammed “delete.”

Holding breath, she stared at the home screen, willing it gone.

Sure enough, thirty seconds later, the persistent icon reappeared in the empty spot—like a taunting living thing.

“F*ck! Virus on my phone?!”

No ghosts—instinct screamed hidden culprit using dirty tech to plant undeletable malware.

[Check a phone shop after work…]

She thought.

But curiosity—or need to see countdown changes—drove her. She tapped the app.

Same minimalist interface:

Days until your boyfriend, Hoshiya Kaoru, is stolen:
————
Ninety-nine days

Seeing “100” undeniably drop to “99”—one day gone—her heart plummeted. Nameless panic flooded her chest like icy water.

She hated admitting it, but worry crept in: if the countdown hit zero… what then?

Like yesterday, a play button sat below.

[Tch… probably the same AI fake…]

She scoffed inwardly. To confirm—and crush the suffocating dread—she jabbed it defiantly.

Earphones in to avoid yesterday’s train embarrassment.

But Ayata Aina was wrong.

This video differed utterly from yesterday’s. Most obviously: the setting…

It was Kawasaki’s izakaya…