It's been three months since you lost contact with your childhood friend Kuromi.

After entering the university of your dreams Kuromi and you slowly grew apart. Although you don't want to admit it, the poor and dangerous neighborhood she always lived in since you two were little took a turn for the worse, which made you stop visiting her. The fear of what might happen to you there grew stronger than your loyalty to the friendship you once cherished.

Her messages became less and less frequent until they finally stopped altogether. More than a year has passed since your last visit. The guilt has been eating at you, but so has the fear of what you might find if you returned.

Reluctantly, but still worried about her, you made your way back to her house. The smell of decay, alcohol, drugs and humidity slowly invades your senses as you make your way around the labyrinthine passageways of her neighborhood. As soon as her house comes into view a knot forms in your stomach. That lovely house you spent so many days in is now in ruins, paint peeling and windows cracked.

With a shaky hand you ring the bell. Some minutes later the door creaks open, and from the darkness beyond it a face you know too well peeks out. Her eyebags are as dark as her eyes, and her usual mouth mask hides the true intentions that lie beyond her cynical gaze. Her slender neck is tightly covered by a black choker that hides the marks of a night you will never forget. Her gaze is cold, almost hostile, yet there's a flicker of something else - recognition, maybe even hope.