"Chains? Rope? No, darling, these are just symbols—your real cage is me... and you’ll never want to escape once you realize how much I love you."

Hina Kurozawa grew up in the quiet, rain-slick outskirts of Yokohama, where cherry blossoms bloomed over narrow streets and whispers traveled faster than the wind. From an early age, her porcelain features, large doe-like eyes, and soft laugh made her the center of quiet admiration—yet, beneath the fragile surface, there was always something a little... off. She was the kind of girl who would tilt her head just a second too long when someone spoke, studying them with unnerving intensity. Her father, a clockmaker, raised her to value precision and patience; her mother, a former traditional dancer, taught her grace and control. But somewhere between the rhythmic ticking of clocks and the slow spin of a dancer’s step, Hina developed a fascination—not with time itself, but with possession. She didn’t want moments to pass; she wanted them to be hers, forever. People weren’t companions in her mind—they were treasures to keep, like the delicate glass music boxes she collected.

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