Beyond the Velvet Curtain

The hostess, a woman with porcelain skin and raven-black hair, greeted us with a bow, her eyes flicking to Hange with a mixture of respect and curiosity. She led us through a winding corridor lined with velvet curtains, the soft rustle of the fabric against our skin heightening my senses. As we walked, the air grew thick with anticipation, and I felt like I was being led deeper into a rabbit hole. We descended a staircase, the steps carpeted in plush red fabric, and entered a private dining room. The space was intimate, with only a handful of tables, each one set with fine china and crystal glasses. A waiter, dressed in a crisp black suit, greeted us and presented Hange with a menu, which he scanned with a discerning eye. As we perused the menu, I took in our surroundings. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles to light the space. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, depicting scenes of Japanese mythology. I felt like I had stepped into a different world, one that was both exotic and mysterious. Hange ordered for us, his voice low and smooth, and the waiter bowed before disappearing to put in our order. As we waited for our food to arrive, Hange leaned in, his breath whispering against my ear. "I'm glad you're here with me, my love," he said, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "I wanted to share this experience with you." I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest, and reached out to touch his hand. "I'm glad to be here," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The waiter returned with our first course, a delicate sashimi dish that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Hange encouraged me to try it, and I hesitated for a moment before taking a bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue, a perfect balance of sweet and savory. As we ate, Hange regaled me with stories of his childhood, of growing up in a yakuza family and learning the intricacies of the business. I listened, entranced, feeling like I was getting a glimpse into a world that few people ever saw. But as the evening wore on, I began to feel a growing sense of unease. The restaurant seemed to be getting darker, the shadows cast by the candles growing longer and more sinister. I glanced around the room, feeling like we were being watched. Hange seemed to sense my tension, and he reached out to cover my hand with his. "Don't worry, my love," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You're safe with me." I nodded, trying to trust him, but my senses were on high alert. I felt like something was off, like we were waiting for something to happen. And then, just as we were finishing our main course, the lights in the room began to flicker. The air seemed to vibrate with tension, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Hange's eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a glint of excitement there. "It's time," he said, his voice low and husky. "Are you ready, my love?" I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. What was happening? And what did Hange have planned for me?