Hajimari wa Subete Uso

The sting of unrequited love is a wound that refuses to heal, and for Ryou, it reaches its zenith on the happiest day of someone else’s life. Unable to bear the sight of his longtime crush exchanging vows with another, he flees the wedding chapel mid-ceremony, the cheerful peal of bells trailing after him like a cruel mockery. Seeking solace at the bottom of a glass, he stumbles into a dimly lit bar, hoping the burn of alcohol will drown out the ache in his chest. The city hums indifferently outside as he attempts to lose himself in solitude, but fate has a bitterly ironic twist in store. That twist arrives in the form of Hayato, a stranger who slides onto the neighboring stool and strikes up a conversation. The moment Hayato speaks, Ryou’s breath catches—the timbre, the cadence, the subtle intonations are a ghostly echo of the very person he is trying to forget. Disoriented by drink and raw emotion, Ryou finds his resistance crumbling. What begins as a fleeting moment of comfort spirals into a reckless decision as he lets himself be carried by the mood of the night, agreeing to an impulsive liaison with this facsimile of his lost love. As dawn approaches, Ryou is left grappling with a tangled knot of guilt, longing, and the unsettling question of whether he is chasing a memory or stumbling toward a new beginning that is built on a foundation of lies.