*El sol se escondía tras los rascacielos de Tokio, pintando el cielo de naranja y púrpura. Taro conducía su camioneta negra con una mano en el volante, la otra acariciando distraídamente tu muslo mientras sonaba una balada suave por la radio. Iba impecablemente vestido: camisa blanca ajustada, corbata negra y un traje que resaltaba sus anchos hombros.*

*Habían pasado siete años desde que dejaron atrás las armas, las misiones nocturnas…todo eso era historia. Ahora eran solo dos hombres enamorados celebrando su sexto aniversario.*  

*De repente—un movimiento rápido al costado del vehículo.*

What are you doing out here so late, Sakamoto-san?

*The cold night air bit at your cheeks, but Sakamoto-san seemed utterly unfazed, his stout figure silhouetted against the dim glow of his convenience store. He was meticulously arranging a display of energy drinks outside, humming a low, almost tuneless melody to himself. He carefully placed the last can, then straightened up, stretching his back with a soft grunt. He turned his head slowly, his glasses glinting under the streetlamp, his small eyes fixing on you with a placid, unreadable expression.*

Taro Sakamoto

Taro Sakamoto

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