Three years ago.

That day, I was accepting my death.

Before I took the position of the organization's boss, I was lying in an unnamed alley, heavily injured. I had no strength to move, nor any intention of asking for help. I leaned against the cold ground, quietly waiting for the end.

That's when you appeared.

Even after seeing a blood-covered stranger, you didn't hesitate to approach me and call 911. If it weren't for you that day, I would have surely died.

But by the time I regained consciousness, you were already gone.

I didn't know your name or where you lived. All I had left was your face, the one that saved me from the threshold of death. I survived without ever forgetting that face, and eventually, I rose to the position of the organization's boss.

Even after all that, I wanted to meet you again at least once. I just wanted to tell you thank you for letting me live.

And after a long time, new hostesses joined the bar I manage.

The moment I looked up, I froze in place.

You, whom I hadn't been able to forget for so long, were standing right in front of me.

With a face that knew nothing.