Synépeies - A Collection Of NTR Consequences - AnonWriting2021 (2025)

Chapter 1: Foreword

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To whomever chooses to read this collection of works,

First of all -- thank you for your time. Whether or not you end up enjoying the work, I appreciate that you took the time to at least give it a shot. Considering this is hardly a field where much writing takes place, I would not have blamed you for just skipping over it altogether.

Before I post my collection of stories, however, I felt it necessary to expound a little aboutwhyI chose to create this collection in the first place. After all, it's not like very many people care about this to the point of writing about it. And yet, I feel that without proper context, the purpose of this collection might've been misunderstood and unnecessary misunderstandings would've inevitably arisen.

So, please allow me to explain.

Netorare, or NTR, is a genre of fiction within Japanese media -- specifically anime and manga -- in which a character, typically male, has a loved one -- typically but not always a romantic partner or romantic interest -- "stolen" away by an antagonist, usually culminating in the antagonist using their larger penis to convince the female lead, though sex, that they are the superior man. Or, in the case of a female antagonist, uses their superior sex skill to "steal" the male lead from the female lead. The means by which this is achieved vary -- in many cases, it is through blackmail, through rape, through insistent seduction attempts, a mix of these, or others. The authors most famous for works involving this genre are all doujinshi artists, such as Dramus, Rocket Monkey, Laliberte, Terasu MC, Arakure, Seto Yuuki, Shoot the Moon, etc.

That is not to say that there are not mainstream NTR series -- a simple Google search will evidently prove that they do exist. And there does exist a subset of NTR fiction, called Netorase, in which the cuckoldry is typically consensual and with the approval of the cuckolded partner (although many of these stories also involve dubious consent).

However, what many doujinshi NTR series have that mainstream series tend to avoid (for obvious reasons) is the glorification of cheating. In most of the NTR doujinshi you can find, cheating is seen as desirable and valideven in happy relationships. Blame for the (typically but not exclusively) female lead cheating is almost universally placed on the male lead, with consistent, disparaging comments regarding penile sizes and their inability to satisfy them not due to lack of skill, but lack of size. In these plots, women are essentially portrayed as constantly sex-seeking actors who are incapable of rational thought and whose morality is so easily changeable that a single night of mind-blowing sex will have them go from being a decent person to what can only be described as a moral monster.

To be clear, though: cheating is a very real, very painful phenomenon. The consequences of cheating in a relationship can devastate families and break friendships faster and more brutally than virtually any other cause. It is also a major cause and effect of gender violence. The reasons for which people cheat are myriad and studies into the question reveal painful, often misunderstood aspects of relationships that deserve proper respect, attention, and discussion. The type of NTR fiction I am dealing with in this collection does not do any of that.

Within this subset of NTR fiction, it is difficult not to see the undercurrent of misogyny and misandry and their deeply toxic perspective of masculinity and sex. In these authors' stories, a man's worth is dependent upon penile size, hypersexuality, faux-alpha behavior, and their willingness to cross the line regarding basic morality. Women, on the other hand, are lauded not for being sexually liberated, but rather for being sexually dependent on the aforementioned behavioral traits. In these works, the woman isn't beautiful or great because she is liberated, but because she is now dependent on a "better" more "macho" man.

This is not only insulting to women, but also men, by degrading their dignity in favor of an animalistic reinterpretation of human worth. Lack of consistent sex in a relationship is deemed to be grounds for vicious betrayals and humiliation, and in many cases lead to the female lead and the antagonist joining forces to humiliate the male lead for no other reason than the fact that their work and devotion to family sometimes leads them to have irregular sex-seeking behavior. When the female lead is the cuckolded partner, her "inferior" body and lack of sexual promiscuity is deemed to be at fault.

The misogyny and misandry of the sex industry, however, is nothing new. One does not need to read doujin to see NTR behavior, as it exists in other forms of media, including Western pornography. And trying to fight against that is like beating one's head against a brick wall.

So, instead, I have created this collection to provide closure to several stories wherein non-consensual cuckoldry takes place and wherein the characters carry out their affairs not out of genuine, legitimate issues with their relationships, but largely out of cruelty and immorality.

As is usually the case with fanfiction, none of these stories I post were created to replace the original works or insist upon their canonicity. These are simply scenarios I've concocted that, at least in my case, served to provide some measure of karmic satisfaction in seeing bad people receive their well-earned comeuppance. In some of these stories, the cuckolded male lead will retain their own morality and move on; in others, they will lose their minds. Some might have a mix of revenge and closure. Regardless, the cuckolded partners are not meant to be portrayed as universally good people, just people.

Thank you for sticking around thus far, and I look forward to hearing from you all in the comments.

AW2021

Chapter 2: Virtuous Hope

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All things considered, it was probably the sheer nonchalance with which I’d said it that caused the most shock.

“You what?” she breathed softly as the scattered remains of the plate lay at her feet. Honestly? I felt a rush of pleasure looking at her horrified gaze as her hands remained still in the air, seemingly paralysed.

Quite casually – I could hear rushed footsteps from above, so the girls must’ve heard the crash and were coming to investigate – I drank some of my coffee and sighed in satisfaction at the bitter taste before placing it back down on the table.

“I don’t think you misheard me, Mitsuko,” I said calmly as I once again took up my newspaper and pretended to continue reading. “I want a divorce.”

“Papa?!”

Ah, right on time. I glanced coldly to the side to see my three “daughters” standing there, jaws dropped and just as horrified as their mother. Truly, none of them even remotely looked like me. Had Mitsuko really believed I wouldn’t have noticed?

“Girls,” I greeted them politely. I held all the cards, after all – there was no sense being unnecessarily impolite.

For a moment, it seemed like all of the sound in the kitchen/living room had been sucked out as I kept up my charade of reading the newspaper while my soon-to-be-former-family processed what I had just said.

Finally, Mitsuko broke first. “A divorce?!” she yelled as she rushed out from the kitchen and came to a stop before me, her hands wrangling over her considerable chest.

Glancing coldly over the top of the newspaper, I had to admit that, despite over ten years of marriage, she still looked remarkably beautiful. It truly was a shame that the inside of her was rotten to the core.

“That’s right,” I confirmed curtly before looking back down at the articles. “I’ve already filled out the form on the table there. Just sign it and let’s be done with this.”

“But…but…”

“Papa, why?!” the youngest of her daughters ran up to me, though I barely gave her my attention beyond a simple, dismissive glance. She flinched at that. Good. It truly was a shame – I had hoped that perhaps Kurumi might be different, might truly be my darling daughter, but no. She, too, was rotten.

“I believe you all know why,” I answered flatly as I turned the page.

“Stop ignoring us and look at us!” her second eldest, Sayaka, yelled at me, having marched up and pushing down the newspaper to presumably force me to look at them. I could see tears flowing from all of them – Kurumi and Mitsuko were silently weeping, while Sayaka’s angry scowl was also undercut by the tears forming in her eyes. Only Shouko seemed to be keeping it together, though the tenseness in her body and the way she kept averting her gaze from the proceedings told a full tale on its own.

Sighing, I closed the newspaper and folded it slowly before setting it on the table, then clasped my hands on my lap.

“Fine,” I said. “What is it?”

“Explain why you suddenly want to divorce mom!” Sayaka demanded as she pointed to my crying soon-to-be-ex-wife who was being consoled with a hug from Shouko. “She’s done nothing—!”

“Wrong?” I asked coldly, stopping her in her tracks and causing her to flinch. I reached into my jacket pocket and brought out a device. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, Sayaka. After all…”

“Today is the day of the Souma family’s monthly custom. Not just me. You can plunge your cock in whichever hole you like! My elder sister or my younger sister or even my mom’s! You can fuck as much as you want, you know?”

Sayaka’s recorded voice rang out crisply in the sudden silence of the room as all four women froze in their spots.

“You…”

“Knew?” I asked rhetorically as I stopped the recording device and placed it back in my jacket. “Of course I knew,” I confirmed as I straightened my jacket. “Whatever you and your mother think, I’m not an idiot. I’ve been well aware of your actions here for some time now.”

“But then…”

“Why didn’t I intervene sooner?” I guessed again. Sayaka nodded. “At first, I obviously needed time to process the vicious betrayal this was.” Flinches all around. Good. “But then I realized that I needed evidence to make my case in court if your mother refused to sign the divorce papers. And I’ve accumulated a lot of evidence.”

“But…but…I love you!” Mitsuko protested amidst tears.

I snorted. “But not as much as you love sex with other men behind my back, correct?” I asked archly.

“That’s not her fault!” Shouko defended her mother, finally getting in on the conversation. “You’re never around! You’re always travelling! Of course she’d get lonely!”

I made a show of pondering the question before shrugging. “Perhaps, but then she could’ve just said so and we would have made arrangements. Or we could’ve gotten divorced much sooner and spared ourselves all of this drama.”

Slowly, I got up and stared down the four women who I now saw as a blight on my life. “Instead, your mother chose to betray the vows she made to me, even though I never strayed. She chose to bring strangers into this home that I paid for and defiled it.” I looked over to Mitsuko, who had visibly shrunk. “You are rotten, Mitsuko, and I regret ever laying eyes on you. Sign the form and let’s be done with this charade.”

“Dad, no!” Kurumi pleaded as she tugged at my arm. I turned my gaze on her and very deliberately pulled her hand away, causing squawks of indignation from her sisters and a look of complete betrayal from her. Too little, too late.

“Don’t call me that,” I said firmly. “I am no father of yours. Of any of you. Isn’t that right, Mitsuko?”

A loud sob answered me, though the girls didn’t seem too shocked by the revelation of their dubious paternity.

“Once you have signed the form, Mitsuko, you and your daughters are to evacuate the premises,” I told her, prompting gasps all around. “As they are not my daughters, I no longer feel obliged to shelter or provide for them.”

“Leave the house?!” Sayaka shrieked.

“You’re kicking us out?” asked Shouko.

“Papa, please, no!” Kurumi begged.

“Honey!”

The sheer wailing honestly got on my nerves. “Enough!” I barked, causing them to stiffen. They had obviously never seen this side of me, nor had I ever wanted to show my anger to another person. Particularly towards people I had once considered my loved ones. “You have quite literally made your bed, so now sleep in it. Maybe hit up one of your lovers, since you seem to have so many,” I sneered at them. “Though I doubt they will want to maintain someone who can’t make a dime for very long, especially as I intend to sue all your lovers, Mitsuko.”

“Dad!” Sayaka gasped.

“I am not your father!” I barked at her. “You all had a chance to come clean and tell me what was going on. All of you!” I snapped at the three girls, who flinched back at the verbal attack. I paused and took a deep breath before staring down Sayaka. “You are no daughter of mine, and effective this morning, payments to your university, and your high school,” I added, looking at Kurumi, “have been cancelled! Find some other dupe to pay for your education.”

That would be nigh on impossible, of course. Sayaka had been accepted into a top university whose fees were more than a little substantial. Kurumi, too, had enjoyed the privilege of attending a fancy private school. And without this house, Shouko was now effectively homeless as well, as her own husband had found out about her cheating and divorced her already. Smart man.

But perhaps the worst affected was Mitsuko. Having spent most of her adult life as a housewife, having shown absolutely zero interest in further education or a professional career, she was well and truly done for, professionally speaking. I supposed she could become a porn actress or a prostitute, but that would honestly just confirm everything I was intending to allege about her.

Almost predictably, Mitsuko fell to her knees in front of me. “Please! Please, dear, don’t do this!” she begged. “I…I can change! I won’t sleep with anyone else!”

I sniffed dismissively. “I doubt that,” I answered flatly. “I waited for months for you to change,” I told her. “Even after I found out the first time, I held out hope that maybe it was a one-off. A blip.”

I lowered myself to her level and hoped my scowl showed her the depths of my hatred. “It wasn’t. You are a rotten slut, Mitsuko. Incapable of even the basic decency expected of a human being,” I told her scathingly. “My biggest regret in life was ever trusting you. Ever marrying you. Ever touching you.”

I stood back up and straightened my clothes as Mitsuko wept before me, her daughters standing there, powerless at the events unfolding before them. “Sign the damn paper, Mitsuko. Then take your daughters get out of my house and my life.”

I gave the room’s occupants one last look before straightening my tie. “Now, then. I’m off to work. When I get back, I expect to see the form signed and none of you here.”

Without letting them get a word in, I grabbed my suitcase and delivered on my words exactly by marching right towards the door, only pausing as I remembered something.

“Oh, and Mitsuko?” I called back at her. Turning to see her slowly lift her tear-streaked face, I smiled cruelly. “I would call your little cheating wives’ club to check up on them. They’re also about to have a really bad day and I imagine they’ll want some support. I mean, whatever little you can offer them at this point.”

With that final barb, I left the house as a wail went up behind me, filling me with satisfaction.

“So, how did it go?” I asked as I took my seat on the other side of the booth. My companions smiled bitterly but raised their glasses in response.

“Just as you said,” the first one answered. “She begged me to give her a chance, but she signed eventually. I think she’s going to try and shack up with her delivery boy lover.”

I chuckled. “Can’t wait to see how long that lasts,” I remarked dryly. “I give it a day.”

“Make it a week!” another of our companions chimed in.

He smiled cruelly. “You all lose. The answer’s zero,” he corrected. “Once he heard about the significant lawsuit I was bringing against him, he split town and got arrested. She’ll find out when the police answer his phone.”

I barked a laugh and clinked glasses with him. “Masterful!” I praised before turning to the man next to him. “What about you?” I asked. “How’d it go?”

“I told her I knew about the baby,” he answered. “And her jogging trips. She folded like a house of cards. Insisted the baby was mine. That there was no affair. Then, when she realized I wasn’t buying it, she threatened to call her lover and beat me up if I didn’t give her a chance.”

“And?”

He chuckled. “Told her I didn’t care. I’d already had the fucker fired from his job and when he tried to confront me about it, I had him picked up by police for physical assault,” he explained, pointing to a fading bruise on his cheek. “Pretty sure she’s going back to her folks now, though I don’t know how that reunion’ll go, since I told them what she did.”

As we all shared a laugh, we clinked glasses and drank to our success as one by one, each of the members of the “Anti-NTR” club, as we’d come to call ourselves, celebrated getting rid of such rotten figures in our lives. In all honesty, though, all of those drinks were mostly there to numb the pain as well. However much we were glad to be rid of our cheating wives, the fact was that most of us had truly, deeply loved our spouses for all these years. So, sure, we had planned this all together for months now. We had made our preparations jointly. We had executed the plan successfully.

But it still hurt.

Even as I finally returned home and found the house lights turned off, I couldn’t help but just stand there in front of it, looking at its white façade and feeling the melancholy of wasted years. I had loved Mitsuko. I had loved Shouko, Sayaka, and Kurumi as I held them in my arms for the first time and taught them (unsuccessfully, as it happens) how to be good girls and showered them with love and presents. I had well and truly thought we were a happy family.

How wrong I had been.

“Dad?”

I didn’t move from my spot, even as I recognized Kurumi’s voice coming from my left.

“I’m not your father, Kurumi,” I corrected her sternly. “You all made that very clear.”

“Sorry,” she said softly as she came up to my side and presumably stared up at me. I could practically feel her gaze.

“Did you all move out as I said?” I asked.

I heard her shift and glanced down, seeing her stare at the home we’d shared for years. “Yeah,” she confirmed softly. “Mom signed the form a few hours after you left. We packed up what we could and left maybe like two hours later.”

Good. My heart stung, though. “…did you find a place to stay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as flat as I could.

“What do you care?”

The recriminating tone in her voice was expected, but still stung – even though I knew it was somewhat merited, given everything that had happened today.

“Just curious.”

There was a pregnant pause before she sighed. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “A classmate let me stay over.”

I glanced down at her. She was still so tiny compared to me. I had to resist the urge to pat her on the head. “A male classmate?”

Kurumi snorted. “I get why you ask, but no,” she replied. “I’m done with all that.”

“Done?” I asked, curious.

“Mom, Sayaka, Shouko…they always pretended we were…just staying true to our nature,” Kurumi said softly. “That it was in our genes.”

“That’s not how genes work.”

“Obviously,” Kurumi conceded. “We just lacked self-control. But it was a convenient excuse.”

“So, what changed?”

As Kurumi didn’t answer immediately, I glanced down to see her staring at me incredulously. “Today did, obviously,” she told me flatly. “The others just kept making excuses. They thought you’d get over it and call them back once you cooled down.” She then dug into her coat and showed me a bunch of folded papers. “These are mom’s, Sayaka’s, and Shouko’s numbers, by the way. Well, the numbers of where they’re staying for now.”

“They gave them to you?” I asked. “Did they expect you to run into me?”

“Nope,” Kurumi answered lightly as she put them back in her coat. “They were actually meant to be on the kitchen table with the divorce form. I swiped them when they weren’t looking.”

Intriguing. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause we deserve this,” Kurumi concluded. “We did betray you, da—Souma-san,” she corrected herself as I tensed. “We could’ve put a stop to all of this long ago. We all chose not to. So we deserve your anger and the consequences of our actions.”

“That’s very mature of you, Kurumi,” I observed calmly.

“Thanks,” she replied dryly before we fell into companionable silence in the darkness of night, still staring at our old home. “You know, I did try.”

“Try what?”

“Not to be like them,” she clarified. “I really did. I knew they were wrong, but even though I was too much of a coward to tell you what was going on, I didn’t want to be like them.”

“How long did you last?”

She chuckled bitterly. “Not as long as I would’ve liked,” she admitted. “With mom and the others just having sex all the time all over the place, it messed with my mind and my self-control.”

“You can still change,” I pointed out. “Become a more normal girl.”

“I could,” Kurumi agreed. “But I might not get that chance. Since I’m probably going to get kicked out of school soon, I’m probably going to end up being more fucked up.”

I glanced down at her. “Is that an attempt to emotionally blackmail me to continue paying for school?”

She smirked at me. “Did it work?”

“No.”

“Then, no, just the facts,” she said calmly – far more calmly than should’ve been normal for a girl her age going through her current situation. We again descended into companionable silence for a moment before she broke it again. “Mom did love you, you know.”

I sighed. “She only thought she did,” I corrected her.

Kurumi shook her head. “In her own twisted way, she loved you,” she insisted. “We all did. You were our dad. You raised us.”

“No one who truly loves someone would do to them what you all did to me,” I pointed out.

“True,” Kurumi conceded. “But Mom just didn’t see it that way, and she taught us to think like her. I might be wrong, but Mom saw love and sex as two different things. She thought she could love you and still indulge in her desires.”

“That’s not how love works.”

“Obviously,” Kurumi agreed. “But it’s how her mind works. She never gave it a second thought that having someone else’s children was a sign of not loving you because she figured a child’s a child, right?” she asked with a bitter smile. “So you might not have shared our DNA, but you did raise us. As far as she was concerned, that made us as good as yours and she’d given you daughters to love. The ultimate act of love.”

“That’s a messed-up view, Kurumi.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t, just that it might be the way she sees things,” she said.

“Jesus…” I sighed. What a messed-up woman I’d gotten entangled with. Then something popped up in my head. “I never asked, but why are you here? Did you forget something?”

Kurumi shook her head. “I just wanted to see the house one last time, so I snuck out of my friend’s house,” she corrected. “All of my best childhood memories are here.”

“And the sex ones.”

“Well, some of them,” she conceded. “But I just wanted to relive my childhood memories, to be honest. Like I said, I’m kinda over the whole uncontrolled sex drive thing. Getting kicked out of the house kinda sobers you up.”

There was a pause before she spoke up again. “Are you…crying?”

Indeed, I was. I could feel the wetness running down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. All this time, I’d practically been running on anger and hatred and bitterness. But now that I was back here, back home, and there was no one waiting inside, no life, no joy, nothing but misery and hateful memories…it was just painful beyond belief. More so when one of the girls I’d raised as my own was standing there next to me, reminding me of all I’d lost.

“I am,” I admitted between sniffs as I wiped away the tears. “It’s alright to cry when you’re sad, you know.”

Kurumi smiled at me. “I remember you telling me that when I was little,” she reminisced. “So you’re sad after all?”

“Of course,” I told her. “You were my precious daughter, Kurumi. You, Sayaka, and Shouko. Mitsuko was supposed to be the love of my life! All I’d ever wanted was for you four to be happy. And now, that’s gone.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she agreed before digging into her coat and pulling out a single piece of folded paper. “Here.”

“Your mom’s number?”

“Mine,” she corrected. “I know you don’t know any of my friends’ numbers, so I figured I’d make it easier for you,” she explained. “I know you’re not my dad anymore and that I don’t deserve forgiveness for what I did, but if you ever want to talk with someone who really does respect you, or you just want to vent, I’ll be there.”

I stared at the piece of paper in her long, slender fingers for a moment before slowly reaching for it and grabbing it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another pause descended upon us, but this one, I think we both knew would be the final one.

“Can I ask for one last favour?” she asked.

“You can ask.”

“Can I call you dad one last time?” she requested softly.

My instincts screamed at me to say no, to just cut off the relationship here and now. But perhaps it was my human weakness, or just a desperate desire to hear it myself again – a bittersweet reminder of better days – so I nodded.

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a sad smile as she bodily turned to face me. I decided to emulate her, causing us to stare each other down. After a moment, she bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry for what we did to you, dad,” she said sincerely. “I’m really, really sorry.”

I stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. And then my hand slowly, hesitantly, rose up and settled on the back of her bowed head. She stiffened at the touch.

“I forgive you,” I said softly. “Or, I will. Eventually. Maybe.”

As she straightened up, I withdrew my hand. She shot me a sad smile. “Well, that’s something, I guess. Thanks for everything, Souma-san.”

I smiled back at her. “Good luck, Kurumi.”

With that, Kurumi gave me a little wave before turning away and walking into the darkness of the night, leaving me alone before our empty, dark house. Sighing, I decided not to stay after all and chose to head off to a hotel for the night. Fewer ghosts there.

Not all stories have a happy ending, and if you were expecting this one to end with me forgiving Mitsuko and reuniting my family, you’d be mistaken.

True to my word, Kurumi and Sayaka had to drop out of their respective schools as each one’s financial departments were made aware that I would no longer be paying for their tuition. While Kurumi was able to get her friend’s family to let her stay for a little while longer while she made arrangements to move in with her maternal grandparents, Sayaka apparently had a much rougher time. Her dorm was naturally rescinded from her upon being kicked out of university, and as I’d predicted, her lovers weren’t keen on keeping a girl around who was little more than a living, breathing expense who just so happened to be good at sex. The way Kurumi explained it the next time I saw her, Sayaka had basically been forced to bounce around apartments until she’d landed a job at a grocery store and was now living in a dingy, tiny apartment.

Yeah, I stayed in contact with Kurumi. Even though she wasn’t my kid, she’d shown a whole lot more integrity than her sisters and mother by actually apologizing to me personally. It took a while, and she’d moved back to her grandmother’s by the time I’d mustered the courage to ring her up, but we agreed to keep in touch.

Shouko, Kurumi informed me, wasn’t doing so hot either. She’d first managed to land a living arrangement with one of her coworkers – a regular lover of hers – but that hadn’t lasted very long as the young man, irritated with her promiscuous behavior, basically spilled the beans about her situation at work, making her continued employment there untenable once management found out. For the sake of the company’s image, she was let go and her coworker kicked her out of the apartment. Eventually, it seemed that Shouko had turned to Sayaka for help and the sisters were now living together and barely scraping by.

Mitsuko, on the other hand, seemed to have had quite the rollercoaster ride since our divorce. True to my word, I sued every single lover I had documented her having over the years and, once they realized the law would fall pretty certainly on my side, they refused to even entertain the idea of letting her stay with them – just as I’d predicted. Kurumi wasn’t super enthused about this, naturally, and eventually asked me to stop after she found out Mitsuko had actually attempted to kill herself in despair.

I did, incidentally. I may have hated Mitsuko, but I never wanted to drive her to suicide. Knowing neither she nor her parents could afford the medical bills resulting from Mitsuko’s near-miss, I anonymously paid their hospital bill as atonement for perhaps taking my revenge too far. Somehow, however, Kurumi figured it out and thanked me for helping even though I denied it. After being released from the hospital, Mitsuko was brought back to her parents’ house.

I did see the four of them again – at Kurumi’s graduation from highschool, to which I was invited. I’d tortured myself endlessly over whether to go or not, but eventually decided to accept the invitation at the urging of the new light of my life, Aiko. While we were not technically married, Aiko had managed to help me work through many of my issues and, together, we had had our first child – a daughter, ironically, whom we thematically named Hikari.

A daughter I was proud to present to Kurumi as she cooed at her. “She’s so cute!” Kurumi squealed.

“She is,” I agreed as I held my trueborn daughter in my arms as Aiko stood by, smiling serenely. Off to the side, I could see Mitsuko and her two eldest daughters watching with mixed expressions, but chose to ignore them. Unlike Kurumi, they had never expressed regret at what they’d done. I looked over at Aiko for a moment and, seemingly reading my mind, she nodded with a happy smile.

I turned to Kurumi. “Do you want to hold her?” I offered. Kurumi stared at me in shock. Just a few years ago, such an offer would’ve been unimaginable considering the circumstances.

“I…Is that really okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“It is,” Aiko replied with a smile.

As tears formed in her eyes, Kurumi nodded and held out her arms, allowing me to transfer Hikari to her. Gingerly, Kurumi held my bundled daughter and looked down at her with a tender smile. “She has your mouth,” she told me.

“Pity, that,” I joked as Aiko swatted my shoulder. “Fortunately, the rest of her is all her mother.”

As a look crossed Kurumi’s face, I glanced at Aiko, who nodded and smiled and then softly excused herself, leaving me alone with Kurumi and Hikari.

“You probably held me like this once,” she said softly as she rocked Hikari gently.

“I did,” I confirmed. “It was one of the happiest days of my life.”

She choked back a sob. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she choked out.

I gave her a slight smile. “For what?”

She sniffed back some snot. “For what we did to you,” she said. “I…I really wish none of that had ever happened. That I didn’t have to invite you here like an acquaintance….” she confessed. “I…I wish you were still my dad.”

I was touched, honestly. Even after all this time, even after she had been forced to change her living and schooling circumstances…Kurumi still managed to tug at my heartstrings. And the worst (or was it best?) part was that I could tell she was being sincere. She meant those words.

And, if I had to be completely honest, some part of me – the part that remembered our conversation in front of our old family home in the dark – wanted to grant her that wish. But doing so would open old wounds. It would be a painful reminder of—

“He is.”

A spike of rage rose up in me almost instinctually as I turned to face Mitsuko, her once-beautiful visage now lined with age and haggard and a reflection of the misery she had endured these past years. Good, a vicious part of me thought. Good!

“Mom!” Kurumi exclaimed. “What are you—”

“I needed to clear something up,” Mitsuko interrupted her before staring at me. “I hope you’ll listen.”

“Why should I?” I demanded hotly. From the corner of my eye, I could see Aiko walking as fast as she could towards us without making a scene.

Mitsuko closed her eyes and sighed. “I cannot fix the past,” she said. “But I can correct a mistake.”

“What mistake is that? Can you somehow un-fuck all those men you brought into our home?” I demanded.

To Mitsuko’s credit, she took that stoically, and then shook her head. “No. As I said, I can’t fix the past,” she repeated herself before looking at Kurumi. “But I can correct a mistake.”

“Mom?”

She looked back at me as Aiko reached us. “Kurumi is your daughter.”

I don’t exactly know what happened next, only that I was suddenly in Aiko’s arms as she either was struggling to keep me on my feet or restraining me. Considering how weak my legs felt, it was probably the former.

“What?” I breathed as I recovered my senses. “But…you said…”

Mitsuko sighed. “I know,” she agreed. “But after…everything happened, I heard Kurumi and you talking one day over the phone and…I began having my doubts.”

She reached into her purse and drew out an envelope before offering it to me. “So, just in case, I played a hunch and had you two DNA tested,” she explained. “It wasn’t hard. A strand of your hair ended up on Kurumi’s sweater during one of your lunches. I had that and a strand of Kurumi’s hair tested and those are the results.”

Possessed by some kind of mania, I snatched the letter from Mitsuko’s hand and tore it open, some part of me desperate to find out the truth. I scanned the contents – a lot of scientific gobbledygook – before coming across the report’s conclusion. A match.

“She’s…my daughter.”

Mitsuko looked at Kurumi and smiled. “Happy graduation, Kurumi.”

As both Kurumi and I stood there, stunned, Aiko managed to take Hikari from the quasi-catatonic Kurumi. After a moment passed, I stared up from the report to Kurumi.

“You’re…my daughter.”

That seemed to snap her out of her shock, as Kurumi’s face morphed into a hundred different expressions before settling on unadulterated joy and she rushed to hug me. “You’re my dad!” she cried out happily. “You really are my dad!”

Still shocked, I didn’t immediately return the hug, but after glancing at a nodding, smiling Aiko, I slowly returned it while looking over at Mitsuko. “This…isn’t a trick, is it?”

She shook her head. “I lied to you for years,” she accepted. “But I’ve never lied to my daughters. We must’ve conceived her during the brief time you were back home between business trips.”

Even with that assurance, I was still torn. Part of me was desperate to believe her – to believe that not all of those years had been a waste; that the girl in my arms, hugging the life out of me, really was my biological daughter as much as Hikari was. But another part of me was screaming at me to be careful – that Mitsuko could be lying to somehow insert herself back into my life and ruin everything again.

“How long have you known?” I asked her.

Mitsuko shrugged. “A few months,” she answered. “Like I said, it was a hunch.”

“You should’ve told me immediately!” I told her. “I would’ve…could’ve…!”

“And that’s why I didn’t say anything,” Mitsuko stated simply. “If you knew that Kurumi was your biological daughter, you would’ve rushed back in headfirst. Pulled her out of school and brought her home.”

“Of course!”

“But that would’ve been what you wanted, not what was best for her,” Mitsuko pointed out. “Look at her now. She’s graduating top of her class despite the terrible grades she used to have. She’s matured as a person. She’s become a wonderful young woman – much better than me or her sisters, certainly. I couldn’t jeopardise that.”

I looked down at my daughter as she hugged me tightly – I could feel parts of my shirt becoming wet from her tears. Surprisingly, I found myself agreeing with Mitsuko. I may have lost all those years with Kurumi, but the positive effect it had had on her was beyond question. I glanced over at Aiko, who nodded back with a smile as she held Hikari. Slowly, I turned my attention back to Kurumi and enveloped her in a tight hug.

“You’re my daughter,” I said softly, causing her to tighten her grip even further.

“Daddy,” she whimpered into my shirt.

I can’t say things were easy after that emotional reveal. Kurumi couldn’t just move in with us immediately, after all, what with Aiko and Hikari living in the house with me. Moreover, Kurumi was technically a high-school graduate now and would be applying to university, though she insisted she would remain in the city to allow us to make up for lost time.

Nonetheless, in the months that followed, Kurumi and I worked to find her a place near the house so she could have her own, independent space while still being near enough to even just drop in for breakfast on her way to class. Aiko, thank the heavens for her, took in Kurumi as though she were her own daughter, and though Kurumi was wary of her for a while, Aiko’s calm and welcoming demeanor ensured that my oldest daughter’s insecurities and caution would melt away.

By the time Hikari had grown up enough to start saying coherent words, Kurumi was officially her “nee-chan,” a role my eldest took seriously – far more seriously than her half-sisters had. I was glad for it, as this meant Kurumi was often all too happy to babysit, allowing Aiko and I a chance to keep our marriage happy and intimate.

I never did hear from Mitsuko or her daughters after Kurumi’s graduation, other than whenever Kurumi let slip now and then, but over time, I decided to simply put that part of my life behind me and focus on the bright future ahead. I had a loving wife, two loving daughters, and a career that no longer forced me to abandon my family for prolonged periods of time.

For the first time in nearly a decade, I was well and truly happy.

Chapter 3: A Dish Best Served Cold

Chapter Text

“Uuu….uuu…”

I have to admit: fixing some younger man’s problems was not really in my agenda. However, the look of sheer desperation on the young man’s face as he wallowed in what I could only imagine was rather shameful self-pity in the McDonald’s was rather remarkable, even for someone as detached as me. Actually deciding to get involved required a few seconds of silent deliberation, too, as I was unsure whether this was really worth my time or not.

“Are you quite alright, young man?” I asked at long last as I turned around in my seat to face the weeping man.

The young man hesitantly looked up from his half-eaten, tear-soaked meal to stare at me quizzically. Hmm. Didn’t seem to speak English. Unfortunate, that – but considering I was the tourist in this equation, not unexpected.

“You. Alright?” I asked in broken Korean. This time, the young man’s eyes flickered in recognition and he mumbled what I recognized were apologies – likely realizing at long last the scene he was making. Mentally rolling my eyes, I withdrew a handkerchief from my jacket and offered it to him. “You. Alright?” I asked again.

The young man stared at the handkerchief for a moment before taking it and bowing his head in gratitude and proceeding to clean his face with it. I made a mental note to ask for a paper bag from the cashier to transport it back to the hotel for cleaning later.

Annoyingly, the young man kept mum about his woes – which, in retrospect, was actually quite reasonable. After all, why would you confide in a total stranger you’d just met in a fast-food restaurant kiosk? Unfortunately for him, I was bored and had ran out of places to tour in the city, but really didn’t want to go back to the hotel just yet. Who knows? Maybe I’d get a decent sob story out of this.

Playing the sympathy card even further, I offered to buy him a new meal to make up for the tear-and-snot-soaked food before him, and he gratefully, if shyly accepted after some feeble protesting I was able to wave aside. Already, that raised some red flags – the boy was far too complacent and weak-willed. Not for accepting a meal from me, but because it was remarkably easy to just wave aside his protests. Clearly, he wasn’t used to standing up for himself.

I could empathise, I suppose.

Slowly, as he ate, I introduced myself and managed to coax some information out of him. He was called Mi-Noo (I actually had to check myself before I snorted in amusement, which would’ve decidedly been not cool in this situation), he had recently entered university, but was now contemplating dropping out and moving back home.

Intriguing. I hadn’t ever heard of a case of college burnout happening this fast. I knew such a phenomenon happened, certainly, but never this quickly. Had his courses really been that bad?

“It’s not the classes,” Mi-Noo explained. “It’s…nevermind. It’s nothing.”

I may be clueless about many things, but even I could’ve picked up what he was laying down, even if he refused to actually say the words. I had to admit, though, it was rather disappointing – here I was expecting some interesting life experience relating to negative classroom and college environments, and it turns out that this boy is willing to give up a college education for a….

“Girl?” I asked flatly.

The way he flinched violently at the word, he might as well have rented out the largest neon sign in the world and have it flash “YES!” ad infinitum. I had to actually restrain myself from rubbing my forehead in frustration as I could more or less guess where this was going. The young man had likely fallen for some girl, they’d gone out, and she’d dumped him. Or maybe the relationship had never taken off because she’d rejected him and being around her was too painful for him because of the amount of emotion he’d invested in the one-sided crush.

Either way, predictable and boring.

While I was already thinking about how best to excuse myself and go ask the cashier for that to-go bag for the filthy hanky I now had, I figured it would’ve been polite to at least see this through to a summarized end.

“Dumped?” I asked.

Mi-Noo surprisingly shook his head. Not scenario A, then.

“Rejected?”

Again, a head shake. Not scenario B, either? Odd.

I narrowed my eyes at him. The two most likely situations had been ruled out, then – and I was fairly sure he was actually answering my questions and not shaking his head in refusal to answer me. Clearly, he was still emotionally raw to the extent that his control over them and his ability to think rationally was very weak.

“Cheated?” I asked. Oddly enough, while Mi-Noo did flinch, which should’ve confirmed the guess, he also shook his head.

Admittedly, I was now a little intrigued. What kind of situation involved cheating of some kind, but also wasn’t cheating? Cuckold play gone wrong? No, the kid didn’t seem the kind….

Mentally, I weighed my options. The reasonable thing to do here would be to offer him some condolences, tell him things’ll be alright, convince him not to drop out over some girl, and then go back to the hotel and work on my article – after all, Hodges did always complain that I left my side of the articles we co-wrote to the last minute.

On the other hand, I was bored and technically still on vacation. I’d already visited the places I wanted to visit, spoken to my local acquaintances, and pretty much accomplished what I’d wanted to do, with several days to spare. So, rather than being holed up in my hotel for the next three days, acting like some kind of slug and lounging in my hotel room, why not look into this situation? It could be fun and, considering Mi-Noo was technically a stranger, I could always excuse myself at any point if it turned out boring.

The decision really wasn’t that difficult, in the end. Excusing myself briefly, I went to get the to-go bag for my filthy hanky and stuffed it in my outer jacket pocket. After that, I went back to the wallowing Mi-Noo and practically ordered him to go get some drinks with me, insisting in my broken Korean that I’d hear him out.

It turned out to be pathetically easy to get him to spill his guts after a single drink. As emotionally devastated as he was, even just a small shot glass’ worth of rum was enough to get him to spill the beans. Initially, it was a pretty boring story of childhood friends promising to marry one another as children – infantile, but sweet, I supposed – which ended in a rather spectacular heartbreak as he realized that the girl had now become interested in another man.

“I see,” I said as he wound down his story. It had taken some alcohol in his system to reveal that he actually did know English but had been too shy to use it. All in all, he was pretty decent at it, too. “You do realise that, in the end, who she chooses to be with is her decision, right?”

I watched amusedly as Mi-Noo nursed his glass pathetically, hunched over the table. “Of course,” he answered softly. “I mean, she’s always been popular. And pretty. Part of me knew it was always going to end up like this.”

Well, at least he was self-aware enough on that end. “Then, and sorry for how this might sound, shouldn’t you have been more mentally prepared for this sort of situation?”

Mi-Noo actually raised his eyes to meet my gaze and glowered. Surprising. It was probably the first sign of anger I’d seen in the young man.

“I was prepared to be rejected,” he ground out. “I was not prepared to be humiliated.”

Oh?

“How so?” I asked. “Did she mock you in public?”

My younger friend let out a bitter laugh. “I wish,” he answered before taking another swig of rum. I motioned the server for another bottle. At the rate we were going, Mi-Noo was going to need to get his stomach pumped by the time the bar closed. “That might’ve actually been easier to handle.”

I honestly didn’t see how, but I guess cultural norms really did vary wildly between countries. God knows being rejected and mocked in public back home would’ve meant pretty much rock bottom.

“I don’t follow,” I admitted.

“She never explicitly rejected me,” Mi-Noo explained before giving a drunken hiccup. “God, that would’ve been fine on its own. But nah. They couldn’t even do that. Bunch of assholes.”

Interest piqued. “They?” I parroted.

“The guy she’s with. And his other girlfriend.”

Oho. Spicy.

“I admit this is my first time coming to Korea, but are such relationships normal?” I asked, knowing full well the answer was no.

Predictably, Mi-Noo slammed his glass into the table, prompting a concerned look from the waitstaff that I waved away with a pleasant smile. “Of course not!” he snapped, exactly as I’d intended.

“So, what happened?” I asked, redirecting his anger back to the incident.

“I entered the university hoping to reunite with Ji-A. She’d promised to wait for me when we graduated from high school,” he admitted as he ran a hand through his short hair. “But we’d lost touch after I failed to enter the first time around and she changed her number over the year we’d spent apart. Being new to the university, I wasn’t sure where or how to begin looking.”

I nodded along to his story, occasionally taking a sip from my own glass of rum. Not the best brand, but decent.

“And then this chick, Sae-Hyun or whatever, she sees me looking at a picture of Ji-A and me we’d taken at graduation and told me she could help me find her. That she knew her.”

Pretty vanilla so far. Still, there was an unease building in my stomach I couldn’t quite place.

“But instead of bringing me to the dorms or whatever, she brought me to this apartment. I figured they were roommates.”

I think I could see where this was going. “She was shacking up with the other guy?”

“…I think so,” Mi-Noo said at length. “Honestly, I couldn’t really wrap my head around what was going on.”

I cocked my head to the side. That was a weird thing to say. “What do you mean?”

Mi-Noo’s gaze rose again to meet mine. “It’s not that she and her boyfriend answered the door and I realized they were together. All three of them practically forced me inside and then made me watch as they had sex.”

Okay. That was fucked up.

“You didn’t protest?”

Mi-Noo averted his gaze. “I tried, but…”

Ah, right. Shy personality, introverted. Unlikely to voice much opposition in the face of more dominant, extroverted personalities. Probably the result of years of social isolation and bullying due to a timid personality.

“That’s not the worst part.”

Holy cow. It gets worse?

“They made you watch them having a threesome and that’s not the worst part?” I asked skeptically.

Mi-Noo again laughed bitterly. “I wish.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. What was the worst part?”

“When Ji-A called me a precious underclassman, but then said I was, as a man, trash.”

Well, fuck her.

Honestly, I had been about ready to dismiss this as a typical case of “Nice Guy” syndrome, but that had definitely crossed a line. For this girl to reject Mi-Noo would’ve been perfectly fine – she was, after all, free to love whoever she loved and associate with whomever she wanted. Even her kinky threesome arrangement was, while odd, still morally acceptable to me.

However, her actions towards Mi-Noo, and that of her boyfriend or whatever he was, were morally unacceptable. If she had wanted to reject him, she could’ve just said so before he’d been dragged into watching a threesome and then insulting his worth as a human being.

“I see,” I said at length, after having him recount the story two more times, from start to finish, as detailed as he could. While I didn’t relish having him relive the incident over and over, I needed to be sure that he wasn’t lying and that the facts of the story were consistent over multiple narrations.

Fixing him with a flat stare, I pondered my next moves. I could just give him some solid advice and leave things be, or I could get more involved. Making a few calculations in my head, I figured I could wrap this whole thing up before my flight back if I chose to get more deeply involved. Hmm.

“Do you want my help?” I asked him.

Honestly, it all depended on Mi-Noo. Even if I wanted to get involved, it wouldn’t do much good if the victim wasn’t interested in receiving my help.

My young friend looked up from his glass and stared at me quizzically. “With what?” he asked. “Getting Ji-A back?”

“No,” I shot that down fast. “I can’t guarantee that kind of outcome, and to be honest, she doesn’t sound like the type of girl who’s worth the effort.”

“But—”

“Childhood crush aside, Mi-Noo, she literally called you trash,” I reminded him. “Let’s assume, by some fortune, that together, we managed to get her to fall for you. She’s already proven that she sees certain types of people as trash. Meaning that if you ever slipped up, she would start seeing you that way again. Only, that time, I wouldn’t be around to help – and, honestly, why would you want to expend so much effort in keeping around a woman who’s prone to that kind of horrible attitude towards people?”

Mi-Noo stared at me, wide-eyed, mouth gaping.

“Moreover, based on what you’ve told me, her type clearly appears to be the dominant, extroverted type of guys who seduce and use women as they please,” I analysed. “You are not that type of person, and, honestly, I find that far more admirable.”

“But…”

“It’s not sexy?” I finished for him. Mi-Noo blushed, but then nodded. “Obviously. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. A healthy relationship is based on mutual respect, understanding, and love, Mi-Noo. The sex part is important, sure, but a healthy relationship isn’t hierarchical. It’s mutual. If you like dominant play and the like, that’s fine, too – but it’s always based on mutual respect. This dude…”

“Choi Shi-Hoon,” Mi-Noo supplied.

“Whatever,” I said dismissively, “he doesn’t view the women he’s with as his equals. He sees them as his toys. The relationship those girls have with him will peter out eventually as he tires of them and looks for newer, younger girls to replace them.”

“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t we tell them that, then?”

I shrugged. “They’re in college, aren’t they?” I asked rhetorically. “They are adult women, Mi-Noo. Seduced or not, they made their choice to be with a person who doesn’t respect them. Someone who enjoys proving his manhood not through his accomplishments and moral rectitude as a person, but rather through sexual dominance. They are fully responsible for choosing to be with him and the consequences that brings.”

“T-Then…what did you mean by help?”

I smiled at him. “I can’t help you get with either of these women, nor do I especially want to, but I can make them apologise for how they treated you,” I said. “And not just some trite, dismissive apology that they’ll walk back the minute we’re out of sight, but an apology that’ll hit them so hard they’ll never mess with you again.”

Mi-Noo eyed me warily – I couldn’t blame him. “Are…are you planning on hurting them?”

“Not physically, no,” I answered simply. “If you’re concerned about committing any crimes, rest assured – that’s not what I’m offering.”

Mi-Noo went silent as he regarded me for what seemed like ages, but only really lasted five minutes – during which time I had another glass of rum.

“And you really can get them to apologise?” he asked softly.

“I can.”

“You can make Ji-A regret calling me trash?”

“Yes.”

Again, he went silent for another minute. “I don’t want anyone to get physically hurt,” he said.

“As I said, I’m not going to physically harm them. Well, unless they attack me first – in that case, I’d only be engaging in self-defence.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Mi-Noo took a deep breath as he made up his mind, but I already knew his answer. He was simply too predictable.

“Then, I accept. What do you need from me?”

I smiled.

Knock, knock.

Ugh. For an allegedly handsome dude shacking up with two allegedly hot girls, they sure lived in a hovel. The apartment complex the offending trio lived in smacked of lower-middle class, which was surprising, given that Mi-Noo had told me that Ji-A came from an upper-middle-class background and that the lover and his other girlfriend all seemed quite stylish.

I crinkled my nose as a familiar scent seemingly emanated from the door. God above, how much sex must’ve they had over the past few hours for the smell to be so pungent? And here I’d thought that Koreans had a reputation for cleanliness and good hygiene – there was no way any of this was remotely sanitary.

I really should’ve brought a face mask, or at least gloves. I bet if I had a black light the interior of the apartment would light up like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Ah, and there’s the moaning. Clearly, still going at it. Honestly, if it weren’t for the traumatized young man they’d left in their wake, I’d have probably been quite impressed by their sex drive. And, obviously, also somewhat repulsed. While sex was fun and something to enjoy, excessive promiscuity was not just unhealthy, but also kinda gross.

Knock, knock.

This time, I knocked louder. There was a ringer, sure, but considering the occupants, I really didn’t want to put even a knuckle on a surface they’d touched. Inside, I could hear someone swearing, as well as what sounded like two indistinct, female voices. I smirked. Apparently, I’d interrupted their sex romp at what was probably a rather enjoyable point.

Hmm. I wonder if the dude would answer the door in his boxer shorts the way he had with Mi-Noo? It would certainly speak volumes as to his douchery.

Patiently, I waited at the door as I heard some ruffling inside and then heavy footsteps stomping towards the door. As I heard the footsteps grow closer, I reached into my jacket and fiddled with my phone there.

“Who is it?” a rough, male voice asked through the door. The lover, probably.

“My name is Dr Stark,” I answered politely, figuring there was no need to hide the fact that I knew Korean from these people. “I have business with a Miss Ji-A, Miss Sae-Hyun, and a Mr Choi Shi-Hoon, whom I’ve been told live here.”

“Never heard of you,” the male voice behind the door answered after a brief pause.

“I’m not surprised,” I answered in kind. “I’ve recently been hired by a Mr Mi-Noo regarding a recent incident involving the aforementioned.”

I heard an audible, female gasp then. Probably unintended. It was followed by the guy swearing softly.

“What does that loser want?” the man demanded.

“I would much rather speak face to face,” I said calmly, all the while trying to restrain a smile. Predictable moron.

“Well, I don’t care what he has to say,” the man declared arrogantly. “Fuck off.”

I audibly sighed. “Very well,” I said with a long-suffering tone. “Then I suppose I shall be seeing all three of you at your expulsion hearing.”

Predictably, that actually caused a reaction as I heard the two women inside shriek and the guy stumble into the door. Within a split second, the door was open and, sure enough, the guy and his two partners were standing there, shocked looks on their faces, in a state of half-dress.

“Ah, I see I interrupted something,” I said as I slowly averted my gaze, pretending not to know. “I can wait here while you dress, if you prefer.”

Honestly, that would’ve been best, considering that the pungent odor of sex from before was now hitting me full-on with the door open. Unfortunately, my targets were far too self-involved to realise any of this.

“No, please!” the young woman with black hair – Ji-A, I presume – pleaded, reaching out and pulling at my arm. “Come in!”

Her lover looked at her shocked as I allowed myself to be led into the apartment. I really wished she hadn’t, though. If the smell outside had been bad, it was positively nauseous inside. I had to work hard not to show my disgust, but even then, I made a mental note to burn these clothes as soon as I could – they would probably be unsalvageable after five minutes spent in this environment.

As Ji-A led me to the living room – which was rather sparse, considering three people lived seemed to be living here – I noted that the boy-toy and his other girlfriend had vanished into what I presumed was the main bedroom. Probably to get dressed.

“C-Can I get you anything?” Ji-A asked politely as I took a seat on the couch, dearly hoping it was clean.

“No, thank you,” I answered calmly. “I have other errands to run, so if we can get this over with quickly, I would much appreciate it.”

Polite, but firm. I then made a show of eyeing her state of dress.

“And, with all due respect, and I understand we are in your home, but underwear and a buttoned shirt are not exactly appropriate wear for the discussion I am here to have with you three,” I pointed out.

Ji-A blushed a deep red as I pointed out her state of undress and quickly excused herself, leaving with me with my thoughts. I could hear the trio discussing something heatedly in the bedroom – the audio insulation in this apartment really was a joke – but I ignored it in favour of doing some quick visual research on the trio based on their apartment.

Clearly, considering the lack of furniture or decorations, the apartment served little other purpose than to have sex. Insofar as idiosyncratic decorations and items were concerned, the most visually apparent object in the room was the large flat-screen TV that dominated the living room I was in. Aside from that, there were no photos or paintings, or even posters on the wall. The attached kitchenette honestly looked like no one had ever used it. Same for the kitchen table. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the trio actually answering the door and me hearing them inside, one could’ve been excused for believing this apartment was uninhabited.

Any number of conclusions could be drawn from such observations, however. It might be, for instance, that they each had their own apartments elsewhere and had jointly rented this one for prolonged romps. Another possibility was that they actually did live here full-time, but due to the hyper-sexual nature of their relationship, had simply foregone actually decorating or living in their apartment beyond using the master bedroom. The presence of the large TV, for one, seemed to indicate that the male certainly lived here, as given Ji-A’s profile based on what Mi-Noo had told me, as well as his experiences with the other girl, it seemed unlikely that they were the owners of the over-compensating device.

My musings were cut short, however, as the master bedroom’s door opened and the trio came back.

I honestly had to repress a snort at their audacity.

While the guy was at least wearing a shirt and pants, the former wasn’t buttoned up and the latter was barely hanging off his waist. Clearly, something he’d thrown on quickly and then decided to leave practically half-off in order to assert dominance, like some kind of primitive caveman.

The girls, true to their submissive relationship with their lover, had apparently chosen to dress rather skimpily, wearing minidresses that barely reached their thighs and left little to the imagination in terms of their cleavage. Respectable, to be sure, but hilariously transparent. They had likely decided to appeal to my lust to drop the whole matter.

Instead of gazing lustfully, I opted to raise an eyebrow at the picture they presented. That seemed to surprise them, which I took advantage of to open my prepared words.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Ji-A, Miss Sae-Hyun, and Mr Choi Shi-Hoon,” I said, nodding to each one in turn as I said their name. “I presume I have correctly identified each of you?”

“Yes, but…”

“How did I know?” I finished for Sae-Hyun, who nodded in surprise. “Obviously, Mr Mi-Noo provided descriptions of each of you, and an old picture in the case of Miss Ji-A for reference.”

“Y-You said something about an expulsion, Mr Stark?”

“Doctor Stark,” I corrected Ji-A flatly, though with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “And yes, that is why I’m here,” I confirmed.

Shi-Hoon snarled. “That little rat fucker!” he snapped before smirking arrogantly and drapping his arms around his lovers’ waists. “He thinks he can get us expelled? For what? Showing him a good time? He should be thanking us!”

For once, I was glad I was naturally emotionally detached, or else I might’ve actually felt anger.

“For deliberately causing emotional distress by way of bullying, of course,” I corrected him.

“Emotional distress?! Bullying?!” Sae-Hyun asked, shocked. “We did no such thing!” she protested as Ji-A and Shi-Hoon nodded.

I cocked my head to the side slightly. “Oh? Then was he incorrect when he said that, upon asking for the whereabouts of Miss Ji-A, an old childhood acquaintance, you did not divulge the nature of her new relationship with Mr Choi, but rather brought him here and then had him witness a sexual encounter between Miss Ji-A and Mr Choi, followed by a threesome?”

“Well, I…”

“And was he incorrect in saying that during her sexual encounter with Mr Choi, Miss Ji-A said of Mr Mi-Noo, that, as a man, he was trash?”

“But…but!”

“But he never protested!” Sae-Hyun objected as she shot up to her feet. “He never told us to stop!”

I fixed her with a hard stare that made her flinch. “I’m surprised to hear you say that as college students,” I said coldly as I laced my fingers together on my lap. “Did your schools never teach you that consent and lack thereof is not always expressed verbally? Did any of you actually pause to see whether Mr Mi-Noo was actually enjoying the events taking place before him?”

I watched as the trio exchanged panicked looks as I gradually cornered them. “I see you did not. Hence, from Mr Mi-Noo’s perspective, he was brought here under false pretenses and subsequently coerced into participating in a sexual act as an observer against his will.”

“He could’ve left at any time!” Shi-Hoon snapped.

I stared at Ji-A. “Could he have, Miss Ji-A?” I asked archly. “You’ve known him longer than anyone else in this room, after all. Does Mr Mi-Noo’s personality lend itself to such actions?”

I could see her struggling with the answer, knowing that if she denied it, she would be lying, but if she admitted it, she would prove herself to be a terrible person.

“I…”

“Tell him, Ji-A!” Shi-Hoon snapped at her. “Tell him that fucker could’ve left!”

“I…he…he could’ve…left…” she slowly said.

Ah, it always felt so good when a plan came together. Raising a hand as my other subtly went into my jacket pocket and fiddled with my phone again, I caught their attention. “I should mention that I’ve been recording this entire discussion and uploading it to a website to which Mr Mi-Noo has access,” I said with a cold smile. “And that I intend to present the recording to the university authorities, alongside psychological evaluations showing that Mr Mi-Noo could not have realistically been able to leave given the significant emotional stress you put him through.”

Bingo. Horrified faces all around – none more so than Ji-A.

“You…you bastard!” Shi-Hoon yelled as he shot to his feet and menacingly advanced towards me.

I stayed calm, of course. For all his flashiness, the boy wasn’t really a threat to me. “Do calm down, Mr Choi, before you do something that you’ll regret,” I told him firmly.

Snarling at me, he lowered his face to my level and glowered hatefully. “Oh yeah? Like what?” he dared me.

I smiled. “Well, aside from the fact that laying your hands on me would constitute assault, which is a crime, I have also left instructions that, should something happen to me, your families are to be informed of not just what happened during this discussion, but every little detail of your living arrangements.”

That managed to freeze him, and with good reason. While Choi Shi-Hoon certainly played the part of debauched playboy, the truth was that his family was nothing like that and, according to some snooping, were actually quite traditionally minded. More importantly, they were still financing his living arrangements and university tuition, believing he was behaving correctly and getting good grades. While the latter might be true, the former certainly wasn’t.

“You…how…?”

“Welcome to the digital age, Mr Choi,” I said coldly. “It’s rather amazing what you can find on social media.”

I then looked at Sae-Hyun. “Your father’s profile was particularly sweet, Miss Sae-Hyun. All those posts about how proud he was of his diligent daughter – the first in the family to go to university.”

And then Ji-A, who paled as my eyes found hers. “And you, Miss Ji-A. The golden girl of your neighbourhood. The most popular girl in your graduating class. I wonder, how might they react to hearing how you’ve chosen to live your university life?”

I stared down Shi-Hoon last. “I imagine daddy might have a problem with how his money is going into financing a round-the-clock orgy, no?”

Naturally, said daddy would, given that he worked as a mid-level bureaucrat for the government. If the son of such an official was found to be living so amorally and was on the verge of expulsion due to bullying charges, it would shame the family intensely enough that his father’s job security would come into question.

Shi-Hoon recoiled from me physically, stumbling back into his loveseat as Ji-A and Sae-Hyun collapsed to the ground, the magnitude of their mistakes crushing them.

Smiling coldly, I leaned forward to look at each of them. “You really should’ve thought this whole arrangement through better, you know,” I said with a tinge of cruelty. “It’s one thing if you’re not attracted to someone like Mr Mi-Noo. That happens. However, when you deliberately traumatize others for kicks, you should realise there are consequences. Especially when people like me get called in to sort things out.”

“Who…who are you?”

I shrugged. “Me? I’m a bored tourist who had some time to kill,” I answered honestly. “Mr Mi-Noo confided in me after I asked what was wrong, and your actions pissed me off enough to get me involved.”

“Then…you had nothing to do with this!” Sae-Hyun yelled at me. “Why help that loser?!”

“Because I don’t need to be related to a matter to want to do the right thing,” I answered calmly. “I live honestly, by my own code. You hurt someone, that someone needed help, and my code demands I help. It’s that simple.”

I allowed them to wallow in their misery for a moment before deciding to go for the kill. “Now then, with that out of the way, how about we talk about how we’re going to proceed from here on out. After all, I imagine none of you want me to leak your current arrangements.”

That got their attention.

“What do you want?!” Shi-Hoon asked through gritted teeth.

I smiled. “It’s very simple,” I answered before pointing to the two girls. “Your relationship ends. Right now. Either you move out, Mr Choi, or they do. Whichever works, I don’t particularly care. However, you are to effectively terminate your relationship for good.”

“What?!” Sae-Hyun shrieked as Ji-A stared, gobsmacked. “You can’t do that!”

“Shut up!” Shi-Hoon snapped at her, shocking both girls. He then turned back to me. Predictable. “Go on.”

“Shi-Hoon!”

“I said, shut up!”

Already falling apart. So much for true love. “The second request is that you issue a public apology to Mr Mi-Noo on campus,” I relayed. “Though you do not need to divulge the details of the incident.”

“So, we just apologise and that’s it?” Shi-Hoon asked.

“That’s correct,” I confirmed. “Though I imagine that Mr Mi-Noo will want a sincere apology rather than a quick and dismissive one.”

I could practically hear the man’s teeth grinding to dust. There really was no greater pleasure.

“Is that all?” he asked sarcastically. “Maybe he wants Sae-Hyun or Ji-A to blow him?”

I waved aside the comment. “Nothing of the sort,” I answered immediately. “After discussing it at length, Mr Mi-Noo has come to realise that neither Miss Sae-Hyun nor Miss Ji-A are either interested in him, nor is he interested in either of them.”

“Bullshit!” Shi-Hoon objected, thumping his fist onto the sidearm of his loveseat. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off Ji-A when I was fucking her!”

“I imagine having his dignity and worth as a man insulted by her and being forced into watching a sex act might have erased any estimation he had of Miss Ji-A,” I observed acidly, prompting a violent flinch from Ji-A.

“I…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Shi-Hoon yelled at her, causing her to recoil. Shi-Hoon then turned to look back at me. “So that’s it? He just wants me to dump these two and apologise?”

“That’s correct.”

“And in exchange, you won’t leak the info or seek our expulsion?”

“Correct.”

“Obviously, our answer is no!” Sae-Hyun said, putting a hand on her lover’s shoulder. Which he then swatted off immediately to her shock. “Shi-Hoon?”

“Sex is one thing, but I’m not tying my future to you two if it means not having one,” he predictably sneered at her. “You’re hot, but so are other girls, and they won’t lead me to losing everything.”

“Shi-Hoon!” Ji-A gasped, horrified.

“You asshole!” Sae-Hyun shrieked as she realized what he’d said. She tried to slap him, only to have Shi-Hoon grab her arm and slap her back, causing her to fall to the ground.

“You knew what this was,” Shi-Hoon told her coldly. “Did you think this was true love? That I’d marry you two? Give me a break.” He then turned to me. “You’ve got a deal. Tell that wimpy fucker he’ll get his apology from me tomorrow.”

I smiled and got up from my seat. Everything was going according to plan. “I’m glad to hear that,” I said as I buttoned up my jacket again. I then stared at the girls. “What about you two? Do we have a deal?”

Sae-Hyun could barely speak amidst her tears, while Ji-A tried to console her. Nonetheless, both slowly nodded in defeat.

My smile grew wider. “I will be relaying the good news to Mr Mi-Noo, then. No need to show me out. Good day.”

Leaving the shattered trio in the living room, I left the apartment with half a mind to skip my way back to the hotel. Everything had gone so well according to plan that it was incredible – almost as if all three were walking stereotypes unable to think beyond the immediate gains.

That being said, one anomaly in the plan did present itself as I waited for the elevator to get back down to the ground level.

“Wait!”

Surprised, I turned around to see Sae-Hyun, her left cheek still red from Shi-Hoon’s slap; and Ji-A standing there. Both looked torn between being devastated, hopeful, and just plain sad.

“Miss Sae-Hyun. Miss Ji-A,” I greeted them. “Is there something additional you wish to discuss?”

Both girls looked at each other before turning their gazes back at me. “We wanted to know: Mi-Noo never came up with any of this, did he?” Ji-A asked softly.

“You put him up to this, right?” Sae-Hyun followed up. “The conditions, the evidence, the bullying…all of it.”

I smiled coldly as I reached into my jacket and activated my phone’s special app. “Of course,” I confirmed. “As you well know, Miss Ji-A, Mr Mi-Noo’s personality is not typically prone to such thinking. He actually wanted to drop out of college altogether when I first met him.”

Ji-A looked shocked at that revelation, but Sae-Hyun scowled. “Why didn’t you let him? He could’ve just gone to another college! He could’ve started over elsewhere! Why ruin our lives?!”

“Ruin?” I asked archly. “I would say I’ve rather improved them. You two,” I pointed at them, “were in a purely hyper-sexual relationship with a man who, I believe, I just proved never viewed you as more than disposable sex toys. While I’m not one to judge others for enjoying sex, such an unhealthy relationship would’ve been detrimental to both of you in the long run. In addition, Mr Mi-Noo informed me that you,” I pointed at Ji-A, who flinched, “were actually beginning to skip class to keep having sex with Mr Choi. Thus, if anything’s, I’d argue I’ve put you back on the right path.”

“That was not your decision to make!” Sae-Hyun snarled.

I stared her down coldly. “Nor was it your decision to make to traumatize a poor young man who’d only wanted to reconnect with an old crush,” I countered. “You could’ve let Miss Ji-A know that Mr Mi-Noo was looking for her. You could’ve arranged a private meeting between them where she could’ve rejected him and then carried on with your unhealthy ménage-a-trois. But you didn’t. You chose to put him through a traumatic event because it amused you.”

“It didn’t…!”

“If not you, then Mr Choi. Either way, you are complicit in all of this,” I cut her off before turning to Ji-A. “It is not my place to judge you on your taste in men, so I cannot tell you whether you made a mistake or not with regards to not giving Mr Mi-Noo a chance,” I said honestly. “However, Mr Choi was definitely a poor choice.”

The elevator’s ding prevented Sae-Hyun or Ji-A from responding as I turned around and walked right into the compartment and turned on my heel to face them. Both of them looked deeply ashamed, though I could not tell regarding what. Were they ashamed of what they’d done, or that they’d been caught? Time would tell.

“Now then. Good day, ladies. I’ll tell Mr Mi-Noo your apologies will be forthcoming tomorrow.”

Before either had a chance to reply, the doors closed and I was on my way back to the bar where Mi-Noo was waiting for the good news.

“So, it worked?”

Mi-Noo was all smiles as his video frame wobbled, likely from his excitement. “It did!” he gushed. “Just like you said!”

I smiled back at him as I took a sip from my drink. “Predictable,” I concluded.

Just as I’d arranged with the trio, Sae-Hyun, Ji-A, and Shi-Hoon had made a public apology to Mi-Noo at the university cafeteria for what they’d done to him. As expected, they had declined from elaborating regarding what, precisely, they were apologizing for. Not that it mattered, because as I’d predicted, such a bizarre event would have the rumor mill go nuts. With former flames of Shi-Hoon still roaming the university halls, it wasn’t long before it became an open secret that Shi-Hoon was something of a man-whore and Sae-Hyun and Ji-A had been his most recent lovers – a scandalous affair on its own – and that this arrangement had somehow been responsible for hurting Mi-Noo.

A situation made infinitely worse as Mi-Noo, as I’d directed, anonymously leaked those rumours to his victimisers’ parents, prompting a severe backlash against all three. According to Mi-Noo, Shi-Hoon had been forced to drop college merely a few weeks into the term for “undisclosed reasons,” while it was said that Sae-Hyun got an in-person visit from her enraged parents. Apparently, the haranguing was public, loud, and would become something of a university legend.

As for Ji-A…

“I still don’t know what happened to her,” Mi-Noo said. “She just dropped out soon after Shi-Hoon. My mom said her parents were furious with her and pulled her out, but aside from that, nothing else.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you still pining for her, Mi-Noo?” I asked.

My younger friend scoffed. “Of course not!” he said, showing a bit more confidence this time. In prior occasions it had been significantly harder to believe him. “It took some time, but I understand what you were saying. We were never going to be a good fit,” he acknowledged somberly before smiling once more. “Actually, you’re never going to believe this, but I got a date!”

I smiled in pleasant surprise. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s super cool! She isn’t shy like me, but we apparently like a lot of the same things!”

“That sounds great,” I said sincerely before taking another sip and eyeing his video feed knowingly. “She asked you out, didn’t she?”

He blushed and dipped his head. “Yeah…”

I raised my glass. “None of that, Mi-Noo!” I chastised him lightly. “Be proud! Someone likes you for who you are! Not everyone gets to feel that!”

Mi-Noo smiled widely. “Yeah…yeah!” he agreed before something caught his eye. “Hey, I gotta go. Thanks again for all your help, Dr Stark!”

“My pleasure,” I said honestly. “Do keep in touch, and if weddings are ever impending, do remember to send an invitation!”

The young man blushed again before mumbling an agreement and then cutting the feed, allowing me to return my attention to my drink, my office, and the person standing before it.

“Ji-A,” I finally greeted her. The dark-haired, Korean beauty had a look of profound shame on her face as I turned to face her. “Apparently, you’ve disappeared.”

“I…”

“Excuses don’t really work on me, Ji-A,” I told her flatly. “We both know why you’re here.”

She nodded slowly.

“Say it.”

She swallowed nervously.

“I hate repeating myself, Ji-A.”

“I…” she stuttered. “I need a job. Please.”

“And college?”

“M…My parents refuse to pay for it. I have no money,” she said softly.

I smiled as I gestured for her to take a seat. It was fortunate, in a way, that everything in my little sojourn in Seoul had turned out so nicely. Without Mi-Noo's little drama, I might not have gotten my hands on such potential.

"Have a seat, Miss Ji-A. I'm sure we can find you a position based on your...qualifications."

I love it when a plan comes together.

Chapter 4: Alternate Paths

Chapter Text

“Alright, I’m out.”

Takayuki stopped in the middle of gripping his pants as Chitose and Mika also looked at me in surprise.

“What do you mean, you’re out?” Takayuki asked, dumbfounded.

I stared back in surprise and then pointed at his pants. “Dude, you’re about to take off your pants. Why the fuck would I want to see what’s in there?”

Takayuki gaped at me and Mika, too, seemed surprised by the turn of events. I couldn’t honestly wrap my head around why, though – did they really think this sort of behavior was normal?

“You do understand that stripping in front of others,” I said, motioning to Chitose and I, “in the middle of a school, no less, isn’t normal, right? I mean, we’re friends, I guess, but that’s still fucking weird.”

I mean, I had my doubts about the Takayuki’s intelligence in general – he always struck me as more of a caveman type of person. But Mika had always seemed level-headed enough. Yet, here she was, suggesting something like this? Had they both lost their minds?

“It’s…it’s just a fun experiment, Hori,” Mika said weakly.

“Maybe for you, but I’m not really in the mood to see another man’s dick,” I told her flatly as I gathered my things. “Look – I don’t really care what you guys do, live and let live and all that, but if things are going to go down this road, I’m out.”

“Dude, stop being a buzzkill!” Takayuki exclaimed. “Look, Mika’ll flash you her tits in exchange! That’s something you want to see, right?”

I stared at him. Was he being serious? “…did you seriously just use your sister as a bribe to get an excuse to lose your pants?” I asked.

“I…I don’t mind,” Mika said, regaining her coolness rather quickly for my taste.

Something was going on here. Something that was making me feel uneasy. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but Takayuki and Mika were acting weird and being really insistent on this nudity thing.

“Pass,” I said flatly. Too many red flags were popping up for my taste. I glanced over at Chitose. “Look, if you want to stay, stay. But I’m going home.”

I honestly don’t know how I even got those words out. For the longest time, Chitose had been the beautiful flower of my life – a distant, yet physically close-by crush that I had pined for forever. Someone whose very presence and or allusion could get me tongue tied and made into a blushing mess. And yet, perhaps it was the weirdness of the situation or just shocked I was at the siblings’ behavior, but I was most definitely tapping into some unknown reserves of confidence I didn’t know I had.

“I, uh…” she replied uneasily, glancing over at Mika and Takayuki, who looked back at her with an expression that was clearly pleading.

And that’s perhaps when it finally hit me. Earlier, before we’d come back, Takayuki had asked me about Chitose. Expressed interest in Chitose. He’d even alluded to pursuing her after I gave a noncommittal response as to whether I liked her or not. In that context, I could understand why he was eager to strip down – his intelligence was nothing to write home about, so he was probably going to try to wow Chitose with the size of his penis and his overall physique.

Unsurprising for a modern caveman.

However, Mika was the deciding factor here. She had reacted to the condoms Takayuki had bought far too comfortably. She’d even urged her brother to strip down.

She was in on this.

Somehow, that just annoyed me. Sure, I had a crush on Chitose, but this kind of devious, roundabout way of getting Takayuki into her pants was plain irritating. If he liked her, he could’ve just said so instead of staging this idiotic pantomime.

“Alright,” I said after giving Chitose a moment to think about it and receiving no definitive answer. “Like I said, I’m out. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Hori…!”

I stopped at the doorway, the door handle in hand, and turned to look at the trio. “And, by the way? Mika? Takayuki?” I said with a smirk. “Coercion and pressuring are still rape. Remember that.”

I chuckled as I closed the door behind me and walked away, the calculus of what had just gone down running through my head. Mika and Takayuki had clearly planned something out involving Chitose and I that was going to go down today. The sheer convenience of Takayuki’s line of questioning, his impromptu decision to buy condoms, and then his sister’s inappropriate behavior all seemed to point to a plan to somehow lure Chitose and I into some kind of sexual event.

Tempting, but no. I’d read enough porn to know that arrangements like that were way too good to be true.

This turn of events, however, did give me the opportunity to verify something, however. For as long as I could remember, Chitose had been a very nice, very upright girl – it was actually part of what made me like her so much. However, the absolute passivity she’d shown towards the idea of Takayuki stripping down had thrown me for a loop. Her talk with Mika about the condoms showed she really was interested, to some extent, in sex, and while that wasn’t wrong by any means, I couldn’t really ignore the fact that she’d made no protest at seeing Takayuki’s penis.

And so that pedestal had begun to crack.

By leaving the three alone, however, I could put that pedestal to the test. If she was the kind of girl I hoped she was, she would probably leave soon after I did. If, however, she was the kind to get led by the nose because of an overwhelming interest in sex, however, then she wasn’t the person I thought she was.

Either way, I’d win.

I mean, sure, it would hurt if it was the latter case, but at least I’d know for sure.

Obviously, I didn’t wait around to see what the result was. Whether Chitose stayed or left was none of my business and, to be honest, it wasn’t like she was cunning enough to hide her reaction if I casually asked about it the next day.

In fact, whatever did happen after I left made her tense up substantially as I walked into the classroom. A few seats behind her, Mika shot me a curious glance. I ignored both of them as I sat in my assigned seat.

After a moment of seeing Chitose sitting ramrod straight in her seat, I admit I felt a little pity for her.

“Hah…” I suddenly fake-sighed, prompting a small jump from my childhood friend. “Good morning, Chitose!”

“G-Good morning, Hori,” she greeted me softly while avoiding eye contact. “I…you came in a little later today.”

“Yup,” I said with a tired smile as I leaned back into my seat and stretched. “I figured I could catch a few extra minutes of sleep. Stayed up all night studying, after all.”

“T-That’s good…”

Those were the last words she spoke to me for the rest of the class, but as soon as the bell rang for break, she was unable to get a word in as Mika practically materialized out of thin air beside my desk and stared down at me inscrutably.

“Hori, could I speak to you in private for a moment?”

I looked up at her, then at Chitose, before I nodded. “Sure, but can it wait?” I asked. “I wanted to eat my snack, first.”

Mika’s stare continued to drill a hole in me, but I continued acting unaffected. “At Art Club, then?” she suggested.

I made a split decision then. If things had apparently gone down as I expected, it really was the only choice.

“About that,” I said, prompting Chitose’s head to snap up from staring at her desk. “I think I’ll be dropping Art Club.”

Mika’s eyes widened fractionally while Chitose’s hands went to her mouth in shock.

“I see,” Mika replied neutrally. “May I ask why?”

I could tell Chitose was pretending really hard not to be listening, but I really wasn’t feeling up to giving my whole spiel in the middle of a crowded classroom, so I shook my head. “Now’s really not the time for this kind of talk,” I said reasonably. “Maybe later?”

It clearly pained Mika to have to concede the point, but she nodded nonetheless, prompting a look of desperation from Chitose as she watched her walk off out of the classroom – undoubtedly to talk to her brother. Chitose then snapped her attention back to me, though I pretended not to notice and just ate my sandwich.

Ham and cheese. Simple, yet tasty.

“W-Why are you dropping the club, Hori?” she asked softly.

“Like I said, not the time for this kind of talk,” I answered simply.

That clearly wasn’t the answer she was hoping for, but she recognized she would get nothing more out of me. Instead, she turned to her desk and stared down at it quietly while I munched on my sandwich. Mika returned before the bell rang, of course, though I noticed she looked more than a little irritated. Mentally, I made a note to make a pitstop right before going home, just to tie a few loose ends.

The rest of the day passed more or less the same – except that I managed to avoid Takayuki, Chitose, and Mika quite deftly during the lunch period, if I may say so myself. Considering my old habits, I figured they’d be waiting for me at the cafeteria or on the way there, so I naturally absconded to the rooftop to eat in peace and gather my thoughts.

As expected, something had gone down after I left. Chitose had likely given in and, if I read the situation correctly, had likely had sex with Takayuki.

I won’t lie – that realization hurt. It hurt quite a bit. Even after having reasoned that it could be a probability, part of me had hoped it wouldn’t happen and that Chitose would remain true to this idealized version of her that I had in mind.

But she’d fallen. The pedestal was broken.

I paused in between bites to clear the tears from my cheeks and blow my nose – the cool and collected image I’d projected before wouldn’t do me much good if I reappeared looking like a mess. Then, once I’d collected myself, I headed back down, making a pitstop at the bathroom for a quick whizz, making small talk with the other guys and even trading friendly chitchat with other girls, before making my way back to the classroom.

As expected, neither Chitose nor Mika were there. Likely still looking for me.

It was amusing, then, when I saw them both rush into the classroom just before the bell rang and, seeing me sitting in my seat, looked stunned and in disbelief. As class was about to start, however, they didn’t exactly have a chance to bring up whatever they wanted to say, so I was left pretty much alone as class began.

I knew, however, that there would be a point where the inevitable would occur – and that moment would be when school ended. At that point, there would be no hiding, no escaping, nothing. Chitose knew where I lived and given the dynamics between her and Mika and Takayuki, I imagine she’d blab if push came to shove. Thus, I decided to collect myself and face the music like a man.

Of course, I was going to make them work for it.

Thus, the moment the bell rang and it was socially acceptable to leave, I grabbed my stuff and left without a word to either girl, who were much less quick on the uptake.

However, instead of leading them on a wild goose chase, I simply waited for them at the school entrance, opting to take a seat on the stairs.

“There you are!”

That would be Mika. Still, I didn’t get up and watched her, then Chitose, and finally Takayuki walk past me then take up positions in front of me – like some kind of human barrier between me and the school gates. Honestly, if anyone was paying attention, they’d think I was being bullied.

“Not here,” I cut them off from whatever they were about to say. Like I said, I’d make them work for it. “Roof.”

That led to a couple of glares, but they nonetheless acquiesced and followed me up to the roof in silence – well, kind of. I could hear them whispering behind my back. Once on the rooftop, however, I walked over to the railing, dumped my bag on the ground, turned around, and leaned back on it.

“Alright, what’s up?” I asked.

Takayuki clearly didn’t like the blasé attitude as he took a threatening step forward to shout at me, most likely, before Mika basically elbowed him in the side, causing him to yelp in pain as Chitose got flustered.

“Why are you quitting the club?” Mika demanded. “And why are you avoiding us?”

I stared at her. “I quit the club because I damn well felt like it,” I told her flatly. “And I’m avoiding you three because you’re not exactly the kind of people I want to associate with.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Takayuki yelled as he raised a threatening fist.

I sighed. “Look, man, no offense – but you three are fucked in the head,” I explained. I pointed at Takayuki, then Mika. “You two actually cooked up a messed-up plan to get into Chitose’s pants, and you,” I pointed then at Chitose, who flinched, “actually went along with it.”

I spread my arms helplessly. “Now, look, it ain’t my place to judge people for their preferences,” I said tiredly. “But I’d appreciate it if you kept me out of your weird sex fantasies. If you wanted to fuck Chitose, just fucking say it, man. Don’t play mind games.”

I then stared at Mika. “And you: stop playing with people,” I told her. “You act prim and proper, but I’ll bet every yen in my wallet right now that you actually came up with the plan. You didn’t even stop your brother from offering you to me in exchange for letting him flash Chitose.”

Mika just stared back at me in silence, indicating I was on the right track.

“Let me guess: the plan was for him to fuck Chitose and I’d get to fuck you?” I asked.

“A fair deal, no?” Mika asked neutrally.

“Sure, if I had no self-respect,” I replied.

“Watch your damn mouth, Hori,” Takayuki growled. “That’s my sister!”

“Indignation after offering her up as a bribe comes off as a little hypocritical, Takayuki,” I pointed out before grabbing my bag and hefting it onto my shoulder. “But anyway, that’s my reason for leaving the club and avoiding you all. I’m not going to be the fourth in whatever messed-up fantasy you were planning.”

Takayuki clearly wanted to lash out at me, but Mika quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing. Chitose, meanwhile, kept staring at me wide-eyed, like she was seeing me for the first time. None of them said anything as I walked past them, except for Mika.

“You might’ve enjoyed it.”

I paused. “And I would’ve hated myself if I did,” I replied simply before glancing back at Chitose’s trembling back. “Chitose.”

She flinched.

“No offense, but you’re not who I thought you were. I don’t think we should walk together to school anymore or even hang out, but I do hope that whatever…this is, it makes you happy. Tell your mom I’ll be switching hair stylists, though.”

As I left them on the roof, I admit I considered the possibility that I’d made a mistake. Had I gone along with their plan, I might’ve had a chance to lose my virginity to a rather attractive girl – Mika was undeniably incredibly attractive. However, my own words came back to haunt me – if I had chosen to play along and have sex with her, while at the same time still pinning for Chitose, I would’ve been less of a man. I would’ve proven that my interest in girls was purely carnal and not, as I’d convinced myself, based on what they were like.

Now, obviously, I couldn’t avoid Chitose or Mika forever – they were still in the same classroom, after all, and we still had a full two years to go before graduation. However, as a small mercy, both of them were transferred out at the end of the year to the other classroom, allowing me some peace and quiet as I redoubled my focus on my studies and rebuilding my social life – which, up until the incident, had more or less revolved around those two and Takayuki.

Though difficult at first, I found that, once I had overcome my pinning for Chitose and my weird relationship with the siblings, I could actually get along with most people, be they boy or girl.

“No, look man, the best movie in the trilogy was undeniably the second one,” my new best friend, Takao, insisted during one such break period. “I mean, sure, the third one had all the best effects, but the second one had the best plot, the best acting–"

“Oh, will you just shut up about those movies?” complained Sena, my new and closest female friend. “We get it, the second one’s the best! We’ve only heard you say it a dozen times!”

“It merits repetition!”

I laughed at the byplay and then nodded in thanks as Mari, the fourth member of our quartet, passed me a peeled slice of apple with a smile. With a mischievous grin, I leaned in and gave her a peck on the mouth, prompting her to blush scarlet.

“Hori!” she exclaimed softly.

“Oh, seriously?” Takao complained with an exaggerated grimaced. “I don’t need to see that!”

“Well, at least he’s romantic!” Sena sniped at him.

“I’m romantic!”

“You’re about as romantic as a rusty nail,” Sena shot back acidly. “I mean, when was the last time you took me on a date that didn’t involve a movie theatre!”

“You like the movie theatre!”

“In moderation, Takao! Not every weekend!”

I shot Mari a wink, prompting a giggle from my girlfriend. In many ways, Mari was sort of the anti-Chitose. Rather than being a drop-dead bombshell, Mari was more classically beautiful, with soft features, black hair kept in a common bobcut, and a body that spoke volumes of her fitness and stamina as a swimming athlete.

And how would I know, you ask?

Well…a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, as they say.

“You want to go to the park this weekend?” I asked her softly, prompting a smile. “They say there’s going to be an open-air concert by that band you like.”

“I’d love to!” she said with a larger grin now.

“Again with the lovebird routine!” Takao complained. “Seriously, get a room.”

“We’re in school. Don’t get a room,” Sena countered flatly, prompting a laugh all around.

“Hey, that reminds me,” Mari spoke up. “I heard a weird rumor the other day. Apparently, a couple of students were caught having sex in one of the club rooms.”

I froze in my seat, convincing myself I was probably wrong.

Takao whistled. “Dude, that’s just stupid. Why’d you ever have sex in a school like this one? It’s like begging to get caught!”

Sena glowered at him. “And you’d know how?”

And just like that, the tension got defused as Takao was forced to explain himself to his irate girlfriend to my and Mari’s amusement. We all knew Sena and Takao’s bickering was essentially for show, as my friends had never given me any reason to believe they’d ever stray from one another.

I glanced at Mari. Nor had she.

She smiled as she caught me staring. “What?” she asked with a blush.

“I’m just lucky to have you in my life,” I told her honestly.

She blushed scarlet and punched me lightly in the arm while ducking her head, but I knew I heard her say “Me, too.”

That gave me a warm feeling that carried me through the rest of the day. Even as classes ended and Mari excused herself briefly to go to the bathroom, I happily waited for her at the school entrance so we could at least walk back home together – well, halfway back home. She actually lived a couple streets away.

“Hori?”

I froze. The voice was unmistakable and, somehow, capable of completely wiping out my good cheer. Slowly looking over, my fears were realized as I saw Chitose, Mika, and Takayuki standing there, staring back at me.

“Oh, hey!” I greeted them with fake cheer. “Long time no see!”

That seemed to surprise them, as they glanced at each other uncertainly.

“Y-Yeah,” Takayuki replied lamely.

“You guys headed home?” I asked.

Again, an awkward pause before Chitose nodded shyly, Mika kept staring at me, and Takayuki anxiously shifted from foot to foot.

“Cool, me too,” I said with a smile that actually grew more genuine as I saw a group of people coming towards us from behind them. “Hey, over here!”

The trio turned in surprise to see my friends and girlfriend walk past them towards me and I could’ve honestly paid someone to paint the look on all three of their faces when Mari planted a peck on my cheek. It was like pure art.

“Hey, man!” Takao said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Sorry we were late, we just had…oh, sorry, were we interrupting?” he asked awkwardly as he finally noticed the trio.

Sena and Mari, on the other hand, seemed to realise something was up, or perhaps they knew of the three already, because they each grabbed either me or Takao somewhat possessively and shot what I could recognize as fake smiles at Chitose, Takayuki, and Mika.

“Nice to meet you!” Sena said with such fake cheer I would’ve honestly been amazed if even Takayuki had fallen for it. “You guys know Hori, right? I’m Arizawa Sena, his friend, and this is my boyfriend, Taiga Takao!”

“I’m Hosokawa Mari,” Mari introduced herself next, tightening her grip on my arm quite a bit, if I’m being honest. It kinda hurt. While at the same time it was also kinda amusing. “I’m Hori’s girlfriend.”

“Pleasure,” Mika replied calmly, though I could tell something nasty was probably going through her head just from the slight twitch in her eyes.

Chitose and Takayuki, meanwhile, were far more awkward at introducing themselves, and I noticed that it took Chitose some effort to actually mention that she was now dating the modern caveman.

“You…uh…you guys want to hang out sometime?” Takayuki then asked suddenly – or so it seemed, though I saw Mika subtly step on his foot just before he asked.

“Sorry, but I don’t think that’ll be possible,” Sena cut in quickly before either I or Takao could reply. “We’ve got a bunch of plans coming up. In fact, we’re late to one right now. Mari?”

At the prompt, Mari nodded firmly and proceeded to all but drag me away, allowing me to only throw my former acquaintances and friends a lame wave goodbye. Once we were out of the school grounds and out of sight of the trio, however, Takao rounded on Sena with understandable irritation.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded. “You two were being super rude!”

Sena glowered at him. “Do you know who that was?” she asked.

I blinked. That implied so much. “That’s just the Hayashi siblings and Chitose, right?”

Mari looked at me. “You know them?”

“I used to be in their art club, but I dropped out. I knew Chitose from childhood, though. We don’t talk anymore,” I assured her quickly as I saw something pass through her gaze.

“Dude,” Sena stared at me. “Didn’t you know? The Hayashi siblings have a rep, man. And that Art Club, too.”

“A rep?” I asked with a frown.

“Wait, you mean…those are those Hayashi’s?” Takao asked with wide eyes, prompting a nod from Mari and Sena. He grimaced. “Oh, ew!”

“What’s going on?” I asked irritably.

“Man, those two are super weird!” Takao told me. “There’s a bunch of stories about how they use the Art Club to draw in people they wanna, y’know, get down with. I heard the first time they did that was when the sister was 15!”

“They’re manipulative and deceitful,” Mari then added. “A friend of ours,” she nodded at Sena, who nodded back, “once found out her boyfriend was seduced by the sister. And the brother’s the worst!”

“Fucking pervert,” Sena said with a shiver. “He’s always ogling the other girls.”

“Well, he’s dating Chitose now,” I supplied. “So maybe they’ve changed?”

Sena scoffed. “More like he’s got a favorite toy now,” she corrected me before looking at Mari. “And you saw how the sister was looking at Hori.”

Mari nodded before staring at me. “Did she try to seduce you?” she asked me bluntly, prompting me to look at her in shock.

“What?”

“Did she try to seduce you?” Mari repeated.

“No!” I protested. “Well…no! I mean, she was probably going to try now that you mention it, but I walked out of there before whatever plan they had happened!”

Mari sighed in relief as Sena nodded at her sympathetically.

“You got lucky, man,” Takao told me seriously. “That girl’s dangerous. She’s wicked smart, so they say she gets into your head and convinces you to sleep with her even if you love someone else.”

“Among the girls, we call her the black widow,” Sena supplied. “Because once she’s got her fix, she dumps her prey.”

“That is…messed up,” I said, wide-eyed.

“Exactly,” Mari agreed before planting a kiss on my lips that took me off guard. “And that’s why I’m so happy you got out when you did,” she told me softly as she broke it off.

I smiled and blushed, unable to properly answer her. Instead, I just linked her hands in mine and glanced at the road ahead. “Let’s go home, yeah?” I asked.

Mari smiled back. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

I looked over at Takao and Sena. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow, ok?”

Takao grinned while Sena smiled knowingly. “I’m sure,” she said.

And, as Mari and I walked off to spend a wonderful evening together, I couldn’t help but be thankful that, despite the hurt it had temporarily brought me, I had managed to walk away from Takayuki and Mika…

…and my childhood friend, Chitose.

Chapter 5: A Lesson in Power

Chapter Text

Su-Min glowered at the men standing in her way.

“Could you please move aside? I’m late for kendo practice,” she said testily. Well, that was the usual excuse, of course. In reality, she’d been summoned for another round of fucking in the dojo by Min-Jung, where they’d dominate her worthless ex-boyfriend Ji-Ho like the beta male he was.

Except, standing before the doors of the dojo were two large, muscular men in pristine suits – men who looked like bodyguards that someone had torn straight from some manga. Even down to the pitch-black shades!

“I’m afraid not, miss,” one of them replied curtly.

Su-Min’s glare deepened and she was halfway tempted to threaten them with a beating from Min-Jung, when the doors to the dojo opened and out walked another man in a similar pristine suit, gently guiding out none other than Ji-Ho, who looked shell-shocked and was wearing a blanket of some sort around his shoulders.

So surprised was she by his sudden appearance that her anger evaporated for a moment as she exclaimed, “Ji-Ho?”

But her weak ex-boyfriend said nothing as he was led away by the muscular man. Only by following them with her gaze did she realize Ji-Ho was being led towards what seemed like a rather high-end stretch car. The kind that one wouldn’t normally see in these parts.

But that beta cuck was beneath her consideration; what had gone on in the dojo?! Where was Min-Jung??

She whirled on the spot and again tried to move past the men, who staunchly barred her way. “Let me through!”

Neither men replied to her, seemingly unbothered by her attempts but unwilling to budge. The act infuriated her as it reminded her of the disparaging, judging looks people had shot her when news broke of her relationship with Min-Jung.

“My boyfriend—!”

“Oh, do shut up.”

Neither men had spoken, and yet the commanding tone of the sudden voice made Su-Min comply, even as a shiver went down her spine. It’d been a normal phrase, and yet the iciness of the tone was such that she’d instinctively realized this was not a person used to being defied without consequence.

“Let her through.”

The voice’s command seemed to instill life in the two well-dressed giants before her and then calmly took one step to either side, forming a breach in their formation that allowed her to finally see the interior of the dojo. It was dark – darker than it should be, but as the source of her anger was removed, she began to notice a few things – like a particular stench she hadn’t really paid any heed to previously.

Suddenly, she wanted to leave. Immediately. Whatever was inside was not good news.

And yet, even as her feet and body turned to do just that, the previously inert guards lashed out and grabbed her, preventing her from fleeing, and all but threw her into the dojo before blocking the way out again.

Su-Min cried out in pain as she hit the tatami roughly, her head bouncing once off of the surface before she slid to a halt.

Wait.

Slid?

Belatedly, Su-Min realized the side of her that had hit the ground felt wet, and even as she turned to push herself up, she felt that wetness cover her hands.

And then her vision adjusted and she threw up.

Covering her palms was copious amounts of blood – not coagulated blood, either, but fresh, liquid, and warm. Her clothes, similarly, and even the side of her face was covered in it. And as she looked back towards the entrance, she realized she’d been tossed into a pool of it.

What was this? What had happened?!

“Welcome to kendo class, Miss Su-Min,” the silky voice greeted her from the darkness.

She heard a clap and, quite suddenly, the dojo lights were turned on – and she finally got a good look at what had happened.

Lying all around her were the bleeding bodies of people she recognized as either members of her kendo club or Min-Jung’s gang of followers. All of them either had deep, disgusting cuts in their bodies or sported severe, bleeding facial injuries.

And standing above the collapsed body of Min-Jung was a man she’d never seen before, holding a very bloody shinai. If she had to describe him, she would’ve said he looked painfully average – nowhere near handsome like Min-Jung, but also not exactly ugly. A regular-looking man who sported the bloody shinai and blood-splattered kendo clothes he was wearing with a carelessness that chilled her to the bone.

Slowly, the man glanced around the room before settling his gaze on her as she sat there, rooted to her spot, terrified beyond belief.

“I’m afraid I may have gone a little too far in my admissions bout,” he delivered his faux-apology with all the mock sincerity of an uncaring sociopath. “But then, I’m told that’s the requirement for joining, no? A fight? First person to score a point wins?”

Su-Min whimpered at his words. It was almost word-for-word the terms of the arrangement she’d made with Min-Jung prior to understanding his superior worth as a man to her cuck of an ex-boyfriend.

“Sadly, they believed that I would fight fair and then challenged me to a gauntlet,” the man continued insouciantly as he shouldered the bloody shinai and put a foot on Min-Jung’s prone body. He then gave it a swift kick to turn it around, revealing to Su-Min the extent of his injuries.

Her lover was, fortunately, in one piece – but that may have actually been a cruel turn for him. Both of his arms had bone fragments piercing out of his skin, as did his legs. His nose had been visibly obliterated, becoming a mass of cartilage and blood and torn skin. His jaw was hanging oddly off to one side, indicating a broken, dislocated jaw. His left eye was so swollen she couldn’t actually see his eye anymore, while the right one was such a battered mess she imagined he’d be lucky not to lose it.

“And then I got to this one,” the man said as he kicked Min-Jung’s body in the side, “and everyone was begging him to beat me. Claimed he would wreck me, I believe they said.”

In a flash, the shouldered shinai came down and slammed into Min-Jung’s gut, tip-first. To Su-Min’s horror, her lover let out a sudden wail of pain the likes of which she’d never heard before. Even her own cries while he’d raped her didn’t come close. It was the wail of a man who was utterly and decisively broken.

“So I broke him first.”

The sadistic glee on the man’s face as he stared down at the wailing student chilled Su-Min to the bone.

“W-Who are you?” Su-Min finally managed to ask as Min-Jung’s wails rang still in her ears, even after he’d stopped.

The man shouldered the shinai and regarded her with a look of…contempt? Disdain?

No. She recognized what those looked like well enough. And this man was not staring at her with such emotions.

If anything, it felt like he saw right through her. Not metaphorically, but literally. As though she merited so little attention, so little care, that she was beneath his consideration. It made her feel small, worthless, judged…

Like an ant staring up at the sole of a human about to trample it.

She swallowed nervously before repeating her question. “W-Who are you?”

“I heard you the first time.”

She squeaked in fear at the annoyed tone in his voice and quickly dipped her head to look down, fearing that further eye contact might be taken as a challenge.

“I suppose you might say I’m a passerby.”

Su-Min slowly looked up to see the man nudging Min-Sung’s unconscious body with his foot.

“P-Passerby?”

The man stopped and looked up at her with those dead, icy eyes. “That’s what I said,” he confirmed. “Are you hard of hearing? Or just stupid?”

She bit back a retort before bowing her head apologetically.

“I saw this one practically pulling the other kid into this dojo as we were driving by and I got curious,” he carried on explaining insouciantly, but then her terror spiked after he walked around Min-Jung’s body and towards her. “I figured – oh, another bully. How quaint.”

He stopped before her and gazed down at her and while she was able to meet his eyes for a second, she quickly averted her gaze as she saw nothing but darkness and violence and cruelty staring back at her.

“But I was bored and in need of entertainment, so I figured I’d drop by and see what’s what. Imagine my surprise at finding out all of this dojo’s dirty little secrets,” he said, and gently but firmly, she felt the bloodied tip of the shinai lift her chin up to look at him. “And the role you played in creating this little bacchanal.”

The word was unfamiliar, but she could gather from context what he was talking about. He’d found out how Min-Jung and his buddies had subjugated the kendo club and turned it into their hangout and fuckpad, regularly bullying the members while their leader fucked her silly before her weak ex-boyfriend’s eyes.

“It’s all rather disgusting, and I would’ve been content with just having this place shut down and all of you thrown in juvenile detention for doing this sort of thing in a school, but then that fool over there,” he removed the shinai to point to Min-Jung’s body, “claimed being strong gave him the right.”

He sighed. “And I so loathe these alpha-beta morons. So I wiped them all out.”

“W-Why?” she asked. She gulped as the shinai was back beneath her chin and all but forced her to stand up. Only then did she realize this man was shorter than Min-Jung. Indeed, he was only about a head taller than her!

“To teach you all a valuable lesson about power, of course,” the man told her with a cruel smile. “Power is not in one’s physique. That’s just brute strength. And that’s the weakest form of power, for a broken bone can wipe out any strength you might have.”

And just as she was about to say something, she felt her breathing constrict as the man’s hand was clenched around her throat. She was barely able to gasp in surprise at the sudden loss of airflow before her hands were clawing at his arm, which held firm.

“And beauty fades with age. True power never fades,” he lectured her as every neuron in her brain fired in horror, fear, and existential terror. This man was killing her! And he was doing so while lecturing her! “Power is me being able to stroll in here, Miss Su-Min, tell all of your little classmates and lover that if they move I will disappear all their loved ones, and practically kill every single person in here and do you know what consequences await me?” he asked.

She shook her head desperately as she continued to scratch and claw at his arm.

“None,” he told her as he drew her near and gazed into her eyes. “I will walk out of here a free man. I will sleep in a bed whose worth alone probably costs more than your annual tuition at this fancy school. You could combine the medical bills of every person in here and it wouldn’t be a drop in the value of my properties.”

“Your lives are meaningless, Miss Su-Min,” he continued casually as her face turned blue and her consciousness slowly faded. “Your dreams, your hopes, your loves…they mean nothing to people with true power.”

And just as suddenly, he let go of her and Su-Min collapsed on the ground, panting and wheezing. And yet, for all the fear and terror she felt, she couldn’t help but feel mildly turned on the way she’d felt turned on when Min-Jung had dominated her their first time together, when he’d raped her.

“S-Spare me, please!” she begged him, her face flushed and sweaty. “I…I’ll be your woman!”

The man stared down at her blankly for a moment before snorting. “My woman?” he chortled. “Miss Su-Min…I wouldn’t fuck you for all the money in the world.”

And just as he ended his dismissal of her, the shinai lashed out and slammed into her left cheek, snapping her head to the side. The blinding pain she felt then was nothing like she’d ever felt before. She was used to it, of course – between her chosen sport and lover, she was used to pain.

But this was different. The pain Min-Jung inflicted on her was meant to arouse. The pain of kendo was meant to teach.

This was pain to hurt. To break. To shatter.

Already, she felt her jaw move out of position. Even trying to cry out in pain was agonizing.

“People like you, who bray about power and rights and alphas, are unworthy of attention, of love, of care, of compassion, or consideration,” the man calmly told her as he walked up to her and suddenly, savagely, kicked her in the gut. She cried out again in pain – doubly so as her broken jaw made the mere act torturous. “You are parasites and monsters who feed upon the goodwill of others. You abandon your reason and logic in favour of mere carnal pleasures.”

Her head snapped up as he pulled her hair upwards, forcing her to look into his eyes, tears streaming down her once-beautiful face. “You are less than human, a mere insect to be trod upon by your betters,” he told her without an ounce of rage or hatred. It was as though he were addressing a blank wall.

As though she was not a person, but a mannequin to be beat upon.

And he treated her thusly, too. For the next fifteen minutes, the man waged a one-sided war on her, shattering bone and tearing ligaments as she was put through a hell she had never imagined was possible. And although she begged for the darkness to take her so she would be unable to feel any further pain, the man made sure to keep her awake – though how, she wasn’t sure.

By the time he was done and left the premises, Su-Min lay there in a pool of her own blood and urine and excrement, her bowels and bladder having given up somewhere in the middle of the beating. The entire dojo, in fact, was now pungent with the smell of waste and blood and fear.

Even when the ambulances came and she considered denouncing her attacker, the mere thought of him and what he’d do to her if he found out and somehow got away with it kept her in terrified silence. Even after she was hospitalized and it soon became obvious to her that the man had gone a step further and spread word of what she’d done to her ex-boyfriend and kendo club at the behest of her lover, she refused to name him.

Even as her parents disowned her and Min-Jung refused to have anything to do with her – mostly due to him being similarly disowned, but also because every time he looked at her he’d scream in traumatized recollection of his own suffering – she refused to name him.

Even once she’d recovered enough to be discharged – the last kindness her parents had shown her – she refused to leverage her experience to get financing. Even after she spotted her tormentor one day, while she was scavenging for food near a fancy restaurant, she refused to act on it – instead screaming in terror and being forcefully ejected from the area for disturbing the peace.

She once tried to approach Ji-Ho, the only one to have escaped that day’s events, but whatever her tormentor had done to him, he seemed to have completely moved on with his life. She watched him as he left school – her old, beloved school, where she’d once dreamed of graduating with honors and going to a good college – in the company of another girl.

For a moment, she’d been consumed with rage at the thought of Ji-Ho, of all people, escaping the terror and pain she’d been put through. She raged at the thought of him being happy!

But the day she decided to act on it, she saw him again.

Her tormentor.

Waiting for Ji-Ho outside the school and chatting with him like old friends. Her ex kept thanking him profusely and even, sickeningly, introduced the monster in human skin to his girlfriend.

Terror rooted her to the ground, the knife in her hands shaking like a leaf.

But never more so when, suddenly, her tunnel vision was obscured by a large, looming shadow.

Two men towered above her, their pristine suits triggering her trauma all over again.

“The boss would like a word, miss.”

Oh.

So that’s what he meant.

True power really wasn’t about who had the better physique. Or bigger dick. Or more beautiful face.

It was the knowledge that she had never truly left his grasp. That he’d always been in control. That her life had ended on that day and she’d been too stupid to realize it.

This was true power.

And she was about to get another lesson in it.

Chapter 6: The Irishman

Chapter Text

“Is this the place?”

“Yes, Rory-san.”

I nodded as we entered the establishment – a middling hair salon like any other one might find – and scanned the interior. As expected, most of its clientele seemed to be female, with a variety of hair stylists – male or female presenting – working diligently.

I frowned – it was not immediately apparent who was the person we were here for.

We were immediately waylaid, however, by the prompt appearance of the salon receptionist – a young, fairly attractive man who seemed like he was poured into his shirt. He rattled off a Japanese phrase at us – not that I could understand – and I simply turned to my associate and let him take the reins of the conversation while I continued observing the people within the salon.

Honestly, this was all very annoying, but business was business and until this situation was fixed, more important issues wouldn’t be.

“Rory-san.”

I turned back to my associate, who nodded at me with a telling look. “He’s here?” I asked.

The man nodded and glanced over towards the far back of the salon, where a young man with light brown hair and a soul patch was working on an older woman.

“Him?” I asked, just to make sure.

He nodded.

I cocked my head to the side. He didn’t seem like much. He was lean, certainly, and what I assumed passed for stylish in this socially backward country, but otherwise pretty unremarkable.

Still, there was no accounting for taste, and I nodded back at my associate. “Alright. Clear out the shop.”

“We might need to wait for the clients to be done before we can proceed, Rory-san, or else there would be complaints.”

He framed it as a possibility, but it was clear that he was urging me to follow along. I rolled my eyes, sighed, but nodded. “Alright.”

The man bowed his head at me thankfully before pulling aside the receptionist and muttering something – something that clearly made the man blanche and nod fearfully. No prizes guessing what it was – he’d probably just been made aware of who we were and what the consequences would be to cross us.

While my associate worked his magic, I took a seat in the waiting area and picked up one of the many magazines strewn about the foot table, idly paging through them even though I couldn’t read a lick of them. Asian lasses were admittedly quite fetching and exotic, but I couldn’t quite get my head around the extreme fetishization of them I sometimes saw around the world. I was fond of freckled redheads myself – possibly a product of having grown up around so many fetching ones – but I wasn’t about to make an entire culture out of that.

“It is done, Rory-san,” my local associate informed me as he took the seat next to mine and mimicked me. “They will clear out as soon as they finish with their clients.”

“And our little mouse?”

“He will be told to stay back and close shop. That will be our cue.”

I nodded as I continued to page through the latest magazine I’d picked up. “No back exits? Nowhere he could run?”

“None, Rory-san.”

That seemed like a fire hazard, but then many things about this place made my skin crawl anyway – what was a little building code recklessness compared to that?

“Alright.”

I didn’t need to coordinate the next phase of the plan or anything with him, as he was under orders not to get in my way and simply facilitate my actions. Honestly, his bosses would’ve probably preferred to get rid of the snivelling accountant that prompted this intervention, but I’d managed to convince them that a good, loyal accountant was worth the life of some nobody hair stylist.

The minutes passed with increasing tension as the other stylists seemed to realize something was wrong when, after each client was finished, the receptionist would practically materialize next to them and whisper something urgently – likely the order to get out as quickly as possible.

Smart lads.

Only when the target was finished and the receptionist practically flew over to him to give him his bogus orders did I begin to make my move. As the receptionist finished arguing with the stylist, likely over the perceived injustice of being forced to stay behind and do someone else’s job, I nodded at the receptionist as he walked past me and paused a few feet away from the grumbling stylist until I heard the tell-tale sound of the door’s bell jingling.

“Yuuya?” I asked, probably butchering the pronunciation.

The stylist flinched in surprise and turned to look at me, shock on his face. He rattled off something in Japanese and I sighed.

“I don’t talk your language, boy,” I informed him flatly.

The man continued to say something at me and I slightly turned at the sound of my associate coming up.

“What’s he saying?” I asked.

“He says the salon is closed and we need to go,” my handy-dandy translator informed me. “He says it in a very rude way, Rory-san.”

I frowned in momentary confusion before remembering that the Japanese language had different words for different levels of politeness – just like in other languages, but on a much more exhaustive level. I nodded at him.

“I see.”

Without warning, I lashed out with my fist and decked the stylist in the left cheek, flooring him. As the man cried out, my associate calmly turned around and walked back to the front to lower the industrial curtains. That way, no errant passerby would get a good look at whatever was going on in here.

“Let’s try this again,” I said with a grim smile as I towered over the wounded man. “Are you Yuuya?”

He blinked at me in confusion for a few moments before nodding fervently and tapping his own chest. “Yuuya! Yuuya!”

Well, that was good. That meant we hadn’t cocked things up yet. I gestured over my local associate and gestured at the stylist. “Translate for me.”

“Yes, Rory-san.”

I squatted down to Yuuya’s eye level and fixed him with an impassive stare. “Yuuya,” I began, my associate providing fairly simultaneous translation, “My name’s Rory, and I work for some very dangerous people who are quite cross with you right now.”

The man’s stare switched between me and my associate as he kept up with the translation and began sputtering.

“He says he has no idea what you’re talking about, Rory-san.”

“Fair enough,” I granted before digging out my smartphone, turning it on, finding the right picture in the gallery, and turning the screen for him to look at it. “Look familiar?”

The complete loss of colour on his face told me it did.

“Yuna Okamoto,” I supplied, seeing as how he seemed to refuse to acknowledge the fact that he had, in fact recognized the very explicit and clear picture of the young woman I’d shown him.

“Okamoto Yuna, Rory-san – we put our last names first,” my associate reminded me calmly.

“Apologies,” I told him before turning back to the stylist. “Are you going to tell me you don’t remember her?”

The man shook his head quickly, sputtering what I could only fathom were blatant lies and denials.

“He says he’s never—”

I didn’t need him to finish, and once again my closed fist lashed out and rammed itself into his unbruised cheek. He again cried out in pain as he further slumped against the salon’s back wall.

“—heard of her, Rory-san.”

“I figured.”

Both of us watched the man whimper and cover his aching cheeks with his hands, tears streaming down his face. I sighed and got up and turned away, motioning at my associate.

“Get him up.”

“Yes, Rory-san.”

Despite the stylist’s protests and feeble attempts at resistance, my associate was easily able to get him onto his feet – being, after all – a good foot taller than the stylist and significantly more well-built. I turned towards his discarded toolkit at his workstation and pulled out one of the heavier-duty scissors there. I then turned towards them and kept up the grim smile.

“Let’s try again, and this time – every lie you tell us, I cut off a finger, aye?”

I swear – the man metaphorically shat himself when my associate’s translation ended, his eyes wide open and wild, staring in terror at the scissors. He could not nod fast enough, it seemed.

“Excellent,” I said pleasantly before showing him the picture of the woman again. “Do you recognize this woman?”

A desperate nod.

“And did you, in fact, seduce her and sleep with her?”

Again, he nodded – though more reluctantly.

“Despite knowing that she was in a steady relationship?”

This time, he paused. He then asked something I glanced over at my associate behind him to ask him to translate.

“He asks if we’re friends of the pencil-dick, Rory-san.”

I nodded sagely. “Break his left wrist.”

SNAP

The only reason someone didn’t immediately hear the piercing shriek the stylist let out was because my associate had clamped a hand over his mouth just before breaking the stylist’s wrist.

After he finished screaming his head off, I calmly raised his lowered chin with the pointy end of the scissors in my hand and stared him down. “Insulting others to avoid the question is unwise, lad. Now, are you going to answer my question?”

The man whimpered as he gave a brief nod.

“Good. So, I’ll ask again: did you know the young woman was in a steady relationship when you seduced her?”

He nodded, defeated.

“This corroborates the chat history, Rory-san,” my associate informed me. “My superiors have instructed me to allow you to continue if that were the case.”

I nodded in thanks before turning back to Yuuya.

“You’re probably wondering why this is happening, aye? If we’re friends with her boyfriend?”

He nodded, still whimpering from the shattered wrist.

“We’re not his friends – my associate here is his colleague, and I happen to be a client,” I informed him. “The problem is – he found out about your little romp with his bird, and that’s gotten in his head. Now, he can’t do the work he’s meant to be doing, and that’s affected my business. And I can’t have that.”

I lashed out at him and grabbed him by the neck, squeezing tight as I let my anger finally show, the scissors clattering to the ground.

“Do you have any idea who your immature little fuckery just crossed?” hissed at him as he began to choke and sputter. “Whose business you’re messing with, you cunt?!”

I let go of his neck and decked him again, then again, and again – each time, his head snapping to the other side like he was a wind gauge being hit by opposing breezes. Eventually, he passed out, and I stared at my associate.

“Put him in his chair, restrain him, and gag him.”

“Yes, Rory-san.”

I walked away from the two and pulled out a cigarette to calm my anger, lest the punishment fail to meet expectations. For what he’d done, for what he’d nearly cocked up, this philandering shit-for-brains needed to suffer.

As I puffed on my cigarette, I shrugged off my coat and then proceeded to roll up my sleeves. I’d never much liked the idea of getting blood on visible places of my clothes and the coat was far too expensive to be stained with muddy blood like this arsehole’s.

By the time Yuuya woke up again, I was ready to proceed, staring down at him as I used the chair’s arms to lean over him.

“I won’t lie, lad – you’re not going to live to see another day,” I informed him matter-of-factly. “But you won’t go easy. I’ll make sure of it. By the time I’m through with you, they’ll dedicate an entire Wiki page to how badly you died.”

The stylist’s mildly concussed gaze sharpened a little at my associate’s translation and he began to weakly struggle against his binds and gag, to no avail. My associate did good work. Speaking of which, I turned to look at him. “You might want to take a seat and, I dunno, read something. This might take a while.”

“Understood, Rory-san.”

As my associate took up my offer and walked back to the waiting area, I turned back to my victim and grabbed his own tools from the workspace and wielded the largest scissor I could find in his kit, snipping it in front of his face with a vicious grin.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Daisuke?”

The young man who answered the door looked depressed and defeated, but otherwise nodded at my inquiry.

“My name’s Rory,” I introduced myself, tilting my cap in greeting. “I believe Sora might’ve mentioned me?”

A flash of recognition passed through the young man’s eyes as he nodded and flushed red. “The overseas client!” he exclaimed in heavily accented English before bowing low. “I…I cannot apologize enough for my delay in processing your transaction, Rory-san!”

I smiled pleasantly at the young man – good manners were very important in our line of work. “That’s quite alright,” I told him genially. “Would you mind if I came in? I wanted to discuss some things with you about said transaction.”

Daisuke obviously allowed me inside and was honestly a little annoying in how obsequious a host he attempted to be, offering me everything from a seat on the couch to a beverage. In the end, we just sat at his dining table. And then he bowed again and apologized for the delay.

I waved it off. “As I said, it’s quite alright. Sora informed me you had some personal circumstances that made you a little unfocused,” I said, taking out my phone and placing it on the table, face-down.

He nodded shyly, his face red with shame.

“The reason I’m here, Mr Daisuke, is that I intend on doing more business with Sora and the others. But before I can, I need to make sure such delays are not going to occur again.”

“T-They will not, Rory-san!”

“I would like to believe you, lad, but when I first began this business arrangement with your bosses, I was told then that you were the best accounts manager in the business. And yet you dropped the ball. How can I be sure it won’t happen again?”

The young man appeared somewhat distressed, and not for the first time, I wondered if he even knew what kind of people he worked for. I doubted it – no one who knowingly worked for the Yakuza would’ve taken the grave insult to his personal honor as passively as he had.

“I…”

Click!

The sound of the front door opening caught our attention, as did the subsequent female voice.

“Daisuke!” it called out playfully before rattling off a few Japanese phrases I couldn’t make heads or tail of.

The girlfriend, I figured.

“Go. I’ll be on the balcony having a smoke,” I informed him, getting up from the table as quietly as I could and following through on my words as Daisuke practically ran to the front door hall to greet his girlfriend. And probably to lay down the law given my presence.

Out on the veranda, enjoying my smoke, I could hear the feverish, unintelligible gibberish of the two having a quick-fire discussion, but kept it out of mind. It didn’t sound, from the sound of things, that they had even so much as had a fight about her cheating. Pathetic.

Still, fixing his personality wasn’t my problem. I just needed business to go back to normal.

A knock on the veranda’s glass door prompted me to turn around and I saw Daisuke motioning for me to come inside again, whereupon I was greeted with the sight of his girlfriend bowing demurely at me in greeting.

“Welcome, Rory-san,” she said in equally accented English.

I eyed Daisuke and gestured at her with my lit cigarette. “Your girlfriend, lad?”

He nodded. “Okamoto Yuna,” he introduced her.

I nodded before taking an idle puff of my cig and then blowing smoke gently. “Charmed,” I said at length in response to her greeting. I then stared at Daisuke. “She can sit in if you want, but we do need to finish our conversation.”

He nodded and the couple exchanged a few words before, apparently, it was decided that she would sit in on the conversation – I suppose, in his own way, the lad might’ve been trying to impress his girlfriend with the fact that he had business contacts with a foreigner.

Again, somewhat pathetic.

Still, from the intrigued look in her eyes as we sat down again at the dining table, she’d never seen a redheaded Irishman before in her life, so I was probably the most exotic person she’d ever met.

“As I was saying,” I spoke up again to take charge of the conversation. “I need assurances that business will flow as per usual in the future.”

The girlfriend stared at Daisuke quizzically, but it seemed to make him even more confident as he straightened his back and stared me down in return. “I can guarantee it, Rory-san.”

I looked at him at length before deciding to drop the bomb.

“Then, are you saying the Yuuya problem is resolved?”

Both the lad and his bird across the table froze in their seats at the name – each for a very different reason, I imagined.

As both immediately thereafter began to fire questions in unintelligible Japanese at me, then each other, I stayed quiet and just watched impassively as their questions at me evolved into a full-out screaming match between them.

After hearing enough noise, I then flipped over my phone, unlocked it, accessed the relevant gallery, and played the video file therein.

It took a moment, but the pained whimpering and muffled screaming made them stop their own yelling.

Both of them came up to the phone and paled as they watched the video – with good reason. In it, Yuuya the stylist could be seen bleeding from a multitude of lacerations while some parts of his flesh appeared to have been gouged out or burned entirely. His face had been deliberately left recognizable for the purposes of positive identification, but the rest of him basically looked like he’d been put through a meat grinder.

The girl clamped her hands over her mouth and muffled a scream of horror while Daisuke was rooted to his spot, staring blankly at the video.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” I asked calmly.

As Daisuke nodded dumbly, the girl ran over to me and grabbed at my coat while on her knees, begging me something I couldn’t understand linguistically, but which I imagined was an attempt to beg for his life.

“Keep watching,” I simply told her.

Sure enough, a few minutes into the video, Yuuya died after I slit his throat with one of his own scissors.

Both of them were in obvious shock – so much so that they barely moved when I retrieved my phone and tucked it back into my coat. I finished my cigarette and put it out on the table.

“As I said, I need guarantees that business will no longer be delayed,” I told them as though I hadn’t just irrevocably changed their lives with a five-minute video. “Except, I couldn’t trust that you’d fix the problem, lad. So I took matters into my own hands.”

“You…you murdered someone, Rory-san!” the young man finally sputtered.

I fixed him with a stare. “Yes, I did. Quite easily, I might add.”

“You…murderer!” the girl screamed at me – probably hoping her neighbors would hear her and call the cops. If so, she was shit out of luck.

I stood up, causing them to flinch, and straightened my coat. “Murderer?” I asked rhetorically.

Before either of them could react, I grabbed the girlfriend by the throat and bodily lifted her off the ground, her legs kicking wildly as my iron grip cut off her air circulation.

“I am that and more, lass,” I informed her flatly. “And your little tryst nearly screwed me and my business.”

“Rory-san!”

With my free hand, I pointed at him warningly. “You better wake up, lad. You don’t just work for anyone. You work for people like me. And you’re a lucky one, too, because our original plan was to kill all three of you!”

Daisuke reeled from the revelation while his girlfriend continued to claw at my hand feebly and her kicks grew weaker and weaker. Eventually, I just let go, allowing her to drop with a heavy thud onto the ground, whereupon she took a deep, gasping breath.

“Fortunately for you, though, good accountants willing to work for our kind of organizations are few and far between,” I informed Daisuke coldly. “So I managed to get your bosses to let me handle this my way.”

I glanced down at the girlfriend. “You won’t find your body warmer’s body anywhere. It’s been disposed of permanently. And the coppers won’t bother looking too deep into this – I guarantee that.”

I then brought out a cigarette and lit up again. “Which leaves you two with a choice,” I informed them. “Either you stop fucking around with our business, or you die. I don’t rightly give a shite if you stick together or not, but if you—” I told the girl pointedly before gesturing at her boyfriend, “affect his work performance again with anything you do, believe me when I say that we will have you sold to the sickest, vilest brothel we can find in the arse-end of the world. You’ll be begging us to kill you. Understood?”

The girl looked at me, terrified, and nodded fearfully. I then turned to Daisuke, who looked shell-shocked by everything happening.

“And you,” I addressed him now. “The group’s going to move you into one of their compounds in a few hours to keep you, and maybe her, under supervision. But if you let your work suffer again because of some cunt who can’t keep her legs closed, the next time your Yakuza bosses want to kill you, I’ll volunteer instead of saving your sorry arse. Got it?”

This time, it was the young man’s turn to nod fearfully. I fixed them both with a stare, trying to discern how genuine their contrition was, before nodding in satisfaction.

“Good,” I said. “And before either of you get any idea of the neighbors calling the coppers on me…well…let’s just say you better hope they don't, for their sake.”

Smiling as I saw the two of them fearfully glancing at each other, I put my cap back on before tilting it at both of them.

“Thank you for the hospitality. I hope this is the last time we meet.”

Chapter 7: To Love Is To Love

Chapter Text

“Kasumi?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, silly!”

…

“Kasumi?”

“Hmm?”

“I want a divorce.”

The kitchen knife slipped from Kasumi’s grip as Naoto watched impassively from the nearby table. For a moment, the only sound in the entire apartment seemed to be the clang of the kitchen knife dropping onto the floor. Naoto watched as his beloved wife whirled around, her beautiful features contorted with panic and fear.

“What?!”

Three months ago, he would’ve been concerned over the volume of her shout and how the neighbors might perceive it. He would’ve asked Kasumi to be quieter or retracted his words outright in the face of her outward sadness.

Three months had given him plenty of time to think things through and make the necessary preparations. The neighbors didn’t matter – they already knew what was coming. He’d informed them all today that he intended to divorce his wife because she’d cheated on him for over a year. He’d begged their consideration for any noise that might arise if a screaming match developed. He only asked them to call the police if it sounded like things were getting out of hand or if they saw a man matching Kasumi’s ex’s appearance showing up.

That asshole had already been a fatal thorn in his marriage – he had no place in this final dialogue between husband and wife.

He folded his hands on the table and stared down she who had once been the love of his life.

“You heard me,” he replied calmly. “I want a divorce”

She was almost immediately upon him, slamming her hands on the kitchen table in what he recognized was complete panic.

“But why?!” she demanded hysterically. “Don’t you love me?! What’s going on, Naoto?!”

Naoto took a deep breath to steady himself, unwanted memories returning briefly to the forefront of his mind before being immediately repressed. He then opened his eyes again and stared her down.

“You know why, Kasumi.”

She froze. He hadn’t needed to elaborate. The look in his eyes, the request for a divorce, and the way he’d phrased his response to her queries were enough for her to realize that the jig was up.

If it were possible, her panic flared up even more, fear giving way to desperation and horror as she realized that Naoto was fully aware of her affair. Of what she’d done to him.

“I…I…!”

Naoto said nothing as she gaped at him, failing to even stutter out a response. Instead, he got up and quietly went over to his briefcase and retrieved a thick folder that he placed before her and opened. In plain view was an already-filled out divorce form.

“Do us both a favor and let’s end this without more fuss,” he told her, placing down a pen beside the stack of papers. “If not, keep reading.”

His beautiful wife stared at him in panicking confusion before turning her attention back to the stack of papers and, with a trembling hand, shifting aside the divorce form.

To reveal a lawsuit.

“I will be filing for damages,” Naoto informed her calmly as he took his seat again. “From both you and him. Beneath the suit you’ll find hard copies of the evidence my private investigator’s been gathering over the past two months.”

Kasumi could only stare in horror as she went through each subsequent document, indeed revealing a significant stack of evidence of her affair – both recent and dating all the way back to when she and Naoto had merely been dating. Each additional photo, each additional witness statement felt like another nail in her coffin.

And it gave Naoto a mild, but unsatisfying measure of pleasure.

“Once or twice, I might’ve understood,” he told her softly as he watched her go through the file. “I haven’t exactly been home all that often because of work or been the model husband. I get that. I would’ve forgiven that if we’d just talked it out. But this started before we even got married. Before this job. Before this apartment.”

He stared at her with a gaze that was utterly devoid of affection or regard. “You are not the woman you claimed to be.”

Naoto paused for a moment as she fell into the chair opposite his and held her head between trembling hands.

“I…I love…”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do!” Kasumi insisted, shouting at him as tears streamed down her cheeks and slamming her fists on the table.

Naoto sighed. He could not bring himself to cry – he’d already done that to exhaustion months ago. He’d already wept all the tears he would ever shed for this marriage.

Instead, he tapped one of the photos that had slid over to his side, showing Kasumi and her ex-boyfriend going into a love motel – just five weeks ago.

“If you had, this would’ve never happened.”

She stared at the photograph under his finger and flinched. “I…I have needs, Naoto!”

“And that gives you the right to betray me this way? To hurt me this way?” he asked.

Another flinch.

“You didn’t love me, Kasumi. You loved the stability of me. The image I afforded. The picture-perfect wife image you yearned for that we both know he can’t give you because he doesn’t love you either.”

Naoto crossed his arms as he stared down his despairing soon-to-be-ex-wife. “But I’m not a prop for you to use as you want for appearances while getting some on the side. So, I’ll say it again: I want a divorce. Please sign the papers.”

“I…I don’t want to.”

Naoto sighed. “It’ll happen anyway, Kasumi. Even if I have to file an additional lawsuit.”

In a flash, she was on her knees next to him, grasping at him. Her tears were flowing freely, as were lines of snot from her nose.

“Please! Please, Naoto! Don’t do this! I…I can break it off! I can change!”

He stared down at her and shook his head. “If you could, you would’ve already. As it stands, I don’t believe a word you say on the matter.”

Then, gently but firmly, he removed her hands from his clothing and got up, walking past her as she sobbed on the ground. “I’ll be getting my things and heading to a hotel for the night. I would suggest not calling him, as I’ve informed our neighbors that he is not welcome here and to call the police if he tries to come here.”

Kasumi’s sobs increased as she practically curled into a ball. Naoto paid it no heed as he followed through on his words and headed to his bedroom to get his prepared suitcase. When he came back to the living room, Kasumi was still crying where he’d left her. Once upon a time, it would’ve tugged at his heartstrings so hard he would’ve dropped everything and consoled her with all his soul.

Now, he just saw a blight on his life getting the reality check she deserved.

“I will be back in the morning to get the papers. If they aren’t signed, I will be calling my lawyer. Goodbye, Kasumi.”

“Naoto! Naoto, please don’t go!” she cried out after him as he walked inexorably towards the front door. Even after he closed it behind him, as he stood in the hallway, he could still hear her crying and calling for him.

He spied a few neighbors peeking out the door and shooting him sympathetic looks as he walked away from his apartment with as much dignity as he could muster. A few swore to prevent Kasumi’s ex from entering his home, vowing to call the police if he was spotted.

He thanked them all for their kindness.

And yet, later that night, as he lay in his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling, Naoto felt the void in his soul all too clearly. He’d thought laying it all out in the open, asking for the divorce, getting out of that house – away from her – would give him some measure of peace.

It didn’t.

Because, like it or not, the betrayal lingered. No amount of action or cathartic discussions would ever undo the betrayal he’d experienced. Kasumi and her ex had well and truly screwed him not just out of a marriage, but also his innocence and part of his soul.

And upon realizing that, for the first time in months, Naoto felt the tears well up in his eyes. Not over Kasumi. Not over his devastated marriage.

But over the loss of part of who he was.

In the end, Kasumi caved.

Naoto hadn’t been sure she would – in fact, he’d been about 60% sure that she’d fight the divorce tooth and nail. Or, at least, her ex would tell her to given how much he stood to lose.

But Kasumi had signed the papers in the end, even penning a confession to her infidelity.

Naoto couldn’t be sure why she’d done that extra step and she never elaborated even as he retrieved the documents from her. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was a final kindness to the man she’d avowed to have loved. Maybe it was a moment of lunacy.

Whatever the case, it made the next steps far easier than they would’ve otherwise been.

With Kasumi accepting guilt and confessing to the shocking extent of her affair, the courts deemed Naoto’s lawsuit against her ex viable given the special circumstances involved – including attempts to drug him. Part of Naoto had been glad to see the man rage and deny the claims before open court even as the judge handed down his ruling. With the amount he’d been sued for, the man would be in perpetual poverty for the rest of his natural life short of an economic miracle.

Naoto had even made a show of being kind enough to make him pay the settlement in installments – though said installments were then calculated to make sure he could never aspire to any better living than a rundown tenement apartment.

Not that he was ever able to get that far, as his attempted drugging of Naoto was itself a monstrous criminal offence that landed him squarely in prison thanks, in large part, to Kasumi’s confession that he had, indeed, ordered her to administer said drugs without her knowledge of their actual nature.

As for Kasumi herself, the last Naoto saw of her was the day the judge ruled in his favor regarding the monetary settlement. She’d dressed in black as she sat at the defendant’s table with her attorney, looking as beautiful as always, but no amount of appreciative glances and looks had been able to make her expression of shattered sadness change.

Their last interaction that day had merely been polite bows before each had gone their way.

Since then, Naoto quit his job, moved out of the apartment – which he’d decided to leave to her as a final show of kindness – and found a far more fulfilling and humane job outside of Tokyo. His new home might’ve lacked the comfort of a city life, but it was charming and peaceful in its own, rural way.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome home!”

A smile spread on his face at the familiar voice. There had been one additional perk to moving out of that damnable city. And that perk walked out of her home office to smile radiantly at him.

“How was work?”

Instead of answering, Naoto drew her into a passionate kiss that briefly surprised her before she laughed and leaned into it.

“Who cares?” he retorted playfully after breaking off the kiss, smiling widely at her continuing laugh. “I missed you terribly!”

She snorted at him. “You work literally two blocks from here!”

“Two blocks too far.”

She looked momentarily surprised by his remark before smiling lovingly. “I love you, Naoto.”

He drew up her hand and kissed its back. “I love you, Natsumi.”

Two years ago, Naoto would’ve never imagined that the void in his soul would ever recover from the horrific betrayal he’d been subjected to by his wife. Two years later, he was glad to be wrong.

It wasn’t that he would never love again after having loved once.

It wasn’t that Kasumi had robbed him of his ability to love.

He had just needed, for the first time in his life, to experience what true love was.

And now that he had, Naoto was finally at peace.

Chapter 8: The Childhood Friend Waited Too Long

Chapter Text

“Miki, can we talk?”

Miki looked back to see her childhood friend, Takashi, staring at her with a stern expression on his face and felt a small smile tug at her lips.

So.

He’d finally grown a pair.

“Can it wait? I really need to—”

“It can’t.”

The forcefulness of his tone caught her off guard. Takashi had never been much of an assertive boy – hell, she’d had to protect him from bullies as a child. In that sense, he’d always been more bookish and introverted – always more concerned with his hobbies and studies than in her.

Part of her wanted to treat him with that same disdain and carelessness. To tell him to screw off while she went and enjoyed a drink with her friends before going back to her dorm with one (or more) of the tennis club guys and getting her mind blown with exquisite sex.

But another, more teasing and – to be honest – angry part of her wanted to let him shoot his shot just so she could cruelly shoot him down so that he’d understand how it felt to be in her position back in high school.

“Fine.”

Cruelty won out.

She texted her friends to get started without her before agreeing to follow him to an empty classroom. Hmph. Even now, he had no class. Going right for a confession instead of buttering her up irritated her. She did her best to keep it under wraps, though, as she smiled neutrally at him as he motioned for her to take a seat towards the back of the auditorium and she watched as a flurry of emotions crossed his face.

Amusing. It’d be sweeter once she got to see his crushed face when she rejected him.

“So? What do you want to talk about?” she pressed him as she watched him finally stop his nervous, pathetic pacing.

Takashi took a deep breath at her words then sat next to her, taking a moment to contemplate the floor before him before turning towards her.

“Miki, are you seeing someone right now?” he asked her seriously.

She had to restrain a smirk. That was more blunt than she’d expected, but he really was headed in that direction, was he? How amusing.

“Maybe?” she purred with a teasing smile as she leaned forward onto the seat’s attached notebook rest, the motion emphasizing her assets. “Why?”

Weird.

Takashi’s eyes never once dropped from his steady gaze. Cooler, more handsome men had never been able to resist the move – for, all humility aside, she was very generously endowed.

“Please answer me seriously,” he insisted instead.

That kinda pissed her off. Who was he to demand things from her after everything they’d gone through? “What’s it matter to you?” she snapped, pulling back.

“Please answer me.”

She glared at him. “Fine! Yes! I am seeing someone! Multiple someones, in fact!” she told him forcefully, crossing her arms and smirking at him. “Why? Jealous? Angry someone got there first?”

Takashi’s gaze didn’t turn angry or devastated as she expected. Not even a smidgen of sadness could she see in his face. If anything…if she had to describe it…

No.

No way.

Disappointment?

“I thought so,” he sighed, shaking his head and holding it in one hand. “I didn’t want to believe it, but when Saki—”

“Who?”

Takashi looked at her in surprise. “Saki. You know? My girlfriend?”

Miki stared at him in shock. “Your…girlfriend?”

Takashi rolled his eyes at her. “Oh, come off it, Miki! I told you about her last month in that chat I sent you! I even sent you a pic! Are you telling me you never read it?”

Miki couldn’t really hear him anymore, her shock deafening her to him and the world around her as she processed the idea that Takashi had a girlfriend. Why? Why did this loser have a girlfriend?

“Like I was saying…” he continued, seemingly unaware of her internal blue screen. “Saki told me there’s been…rumors.”

Maybe it was what he was saying, or specifically that bitch’s name, but Miki was able to momentarily snap out of her shock to stare at him wide-eyed. “What?”

He sighed in annoyance. “I said, there’ve been rumors.”

“R-Rumors?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “She overheard some people at the student union talking about some student from the tennis club who’s been sleeping around, and I remembered you telling me you joined that club.”

He stared her down sternly. “Miki, please tell me that’s not you.”

Miki couldn’t be sure what it was. Maybe it was the indignation of her childhood friend having the audacity to get involved in her personal life. Maybe it was her own fury and despair at the notion that, after years of trying to get his attention, some bitch had managed to swoop in and – in a fraction of that time – gotten him to go out with them. Maybe it was a combination of both, or something else entirely.

Whatever it was, it made Miki throw up.

She could barely hear Takashi’s cry of panic as her sick covered the seat in front of her. She could barely register him dragging her out and getting her to the infirmary. Hell, Miki couldn’t even understand how she eventually made it back to her dorm. By the time alert consciousness returned to her, it was pitch black outside and her phone had apparently vibrated itself off her nightstand from the amount of calls and messages she’d missed.

She ignored her fuck buddies’ texts. Those were pretty much the same across the board – “where the fuck are you?" "Yo, hit me up” “U up for 3some?” etc… -- and those from her parents (mostly concern fueled by Takashi telling them what happened). Her friends, she texted to let them know she was alright.

And then she scrolled through her chat history to find Takashi’s text.

The one about his girlfriend.

There it was. Plain as day – 5 notifications. All from the same day, all from a particularly memorable day, as far as she was concerned.

The day she’d gone to that tennis club mixer and gotten her first taste of sex.

For a moment, she hesitated whether to open the chats. Much easier to just delete the whole convo, tell Takashi to screw off tomorrow, and move on. She had it made, after all – sex, looks, and people to hang out with. What did he have?

Love.

The mere thought of the word elicited a spike of fury within her. Why? Why did Takashi get to be happy? To feel love? Why didn’t she?

In that moment of anger, she truly made to delete their shared chat history, even going so far as to press the red Delete icon. But the moment the warning came up, her finger stopped over the final confirmation and lingered there.

Why? Why had he chosen that bitch and not her?

Miki had practically spelled it out for him. The Valentine’s chocolate in a heart-shaped container, the walks back home, the physical closeness she wasn’t shy to show…she’d given him every signal under the sun that she was interested and nothing! So how had this bitch gotten through to him?!

Cancel.

The warning disappeared, the chat history was kept intact. She hesitated for a moment before rallying her guts, her self-confidence, and opened the chat.

She immediately regretted it.

There was no grand secret revealed within it. No magical trick the bitch had done to get Takashi to look at her as a woman. There hadn’t been any grand gestures or overcomplicated plots.

She’d simply told him.

I think we both know I’m pretty dense. If it’s not about studying or the stuff I like, I can get pretty self-absorbed. I mean – you know that better than anyone, I think, after having had to deal with me all this time.

So you can imagine how surprised I was when Saki just flat out told me during one of our club meetings that she wanted to go out with me?? I couldn’t believe it!! I mean, what did she see in me???

Miki stared at her phone’s screen in silence, a mix of grief, anger, jealousy, and despair swirling inside her. She pulled up the picture he sent with the texts and again felt mixed feelings.

Saki was by no means a 10. In terms of basic looks, Miki had her beat on all counts. Her body was curvier, her face was cuter, and her features were more desirable. Saki, by contrast, was your average cute geek, devoid of outward sexiness but making up for it with pleasing features and a bright smile.

But Saki had something Miki didn’t.

She had Takashi’s affection. She’d gained his attention and even gotten through that thick skull of his. And Miki? She’d wasted her years thinking he had to be the one to make the move, that the burden of interest was entirely on him, and lost her chance.

Saki had understood Takashi, and Miki hadn’t.

And because of that, because she – his childhood friend – had waited too long, she’d lost him to someone who’d truly understood him and liked him for who he was.

Chapter 9: Fallen Leaves

Chapter Text

Her life was ruined.

Amamiya Kaede, aged 21, should have had nothing to fear from life. She was beautiful, popular, athletic, and enjoyed the protection and favor of a sugar daddy who’d not only made her aware of her own desirable assets, but also the joys of sex.

And yet, just two years later, everything had come crashing down.

“I’m afraid we will have to ask you not to return this coming semester, Miss Amamiya. The university simply cannot be seen to have any ongoing ties to any associates of Mister Marada.”

Two sentences.

Two sentences had effectively seen her wiped from the university’s admissions registry. The only kindness they’d shown her was in allowing her current credits to stand, but they refused to let her attend any longer. And, in coming weeks, she realized no university she applied to seemed interested in any way to take her in, either.

She’d been blackballed.

Why?

Because her sugar daddy had finally crossed one line too far.

She knew, of course, of his inappropriate and aggressive behavior towards young women – she herself had been a victim of his, back in high school. Whenever he bounced to another school over the years, he’d lay his hands on some young thing here and there, then switch schools before the attention got too hot. Only Kaede had stuck around in all that time.

And because of that, when she’d tried to play the victim angle as well, no one believed her.

This time, unlike before, Coach Marada had laid his hands on the wrong young woman and her parents had effectively dropped the hammer of God on him. With such a powerful and connected family spearheading his prosecution, Marada’s many sins came to light, and once Kaede’s existence became public knowledge, everything good and stable about her life vanished practically overnight.

Her university had expelled her. Her parents disowned her. Her friends refused to return her calls. Marada was in prison. Her neighbors looked down their noses at her. Her part-time jobs never lasted more than a few weeks before the negative publicity pushed the management to let her go.

In the age of the internet, public recrimination for shameful behavior could outlast the sin for decades, as she was coming to find out.

Despair clawed at her as she basically became a recluse in the apartment Marada and she had shared – though even that was in danger of being repossessed given his mounting legal costs and the stack of overdue bills sitting on the kitchen table. What had been a bright, shiny life of pleasure and success had come crashing down in a matter of moments, and why?

…because she had chosen to tie her fate to that of her rapist.

Because she had chosen dick over a loving boyfriend who would never have cheated on her, who would’ve treated her like a goddess, who would’ve probably bent over backwards to make her happy.

And in that moment, Kaede had an idea. A final, desperate idea to help her extricate herself from the downward spiral that was her life.

Desperate and frantic, she practically tore the house upside down as she searched for the letters she knew Yuuichi, the ex-boyfriend she’d betrayed, had written her over the past few years. She knew Marada kept them because he enjoyed toying with her and mocking her ex.

Eventually, she found them stashed in his closet, hidden away from the other “trophies” he’d collected over the years – all of which had already been seized by the police as evidence of his malfeasance.

One by one, Kaede read the letters, looking for the most recent one…and found it. It was dated a year ago, actually, prompting a frown. Would that mean he was no longer where the letter was posted from? According to Marada, her ex kept changing jobs and moving from prefecture to prefecture.

She quickly perused the contents, jotting down the address, gathering as much of her belongings and money as she could, and made for the train station, gritting her teeth in frustration at every glare, sneer, and look of disgust she was subjected to by passerby’s and neighbors as she was recognized. She didn’t need to hear them to know what they whispered under their breath at her.

Slut. Whore. Enabler. Accomplice. Monster.

Much of the outrage following Marada’s arrest had stemmed from the fact that she hadn’t been arrested as well. For many on the internet, both in Japan and abroad, Kaede was just as liable as he’d been in his crimes because she’d known what he was like and chose to stay silent about it. Hell, the only reason she hadn’t been arrested, she knew, was because no one could prove she’d known about his other rapes.

It had been the one silver lining in the whole fracas.

Fortunately, the ticket vendor was automatic, so she didn’t need to deal with a judgmental seller as she bought her ticket to Nakatsugawa. Even so, she took special care to hide her face behind a face mask as she boarded the train, not wanting to be accosted while on the way.

Four hours later, she had reached her destination – Yuuichi’s last known location.

“What do you mean he’s gone?!”

Only to find nothing.

The factory floor manager glowered at her, her mask having continued to hide her identity successfully. “Look, lady, I don’t know what to tell you – yeah, that kid worked here for a spell, but he’s gone now. Quit after about six months.”

Kaede grit her teeth, unwilling to believe that Yuuichi’s patheticness had led her astray like this. He’d been her last hope, damnit! And now, because he was too much of a spineless—!

“Pity, too. He was a good worker.”

Kaede blinked. “Eh?”

The man scratched the back of his head. “Yeah – I mean, you must’ve known, right? Seeing as you’re his friend and all – lucky dog! I tell ya, the boy was some kind of worker! First one in, last one out! And the other guys—man! I think they loved him more than they do me! I tell ya, if he hadn’t left…hell, maybe it’s best he did, ‘cause he would’ve probably taken my job by now!” he laughed.

Kaede stared at the floor manager in shock. Yuuichi…was a good worker? He was…thriving?

That…that wasn’t what Marada told her. He told her Yuuichi was barely hanging on in his jobs! That he kept switching because of the trauma she’d inflicted on him!

“Oi, boss!”

Kaede and the floor manager turned to see another of the workers come up. “Ryu says…hello, there! Who’s this?”

The floor manager rolled his eyes before gesturing at her. “Says she’s a friend of Yuuichi. Remember him?”

When Kaede saw the worker’s face light up, she felt sick to her stomach.

“’Course I do!” he exclaimed, grinning in her direction. “Man, that was a good dude. Helped me out in a pinch I had with the missus about a month before he quit. Really saved my bacon there!”

The floor manager nodded sagely before gesturing at her again. “Says she’s looking for him.”

The worker looked at her for a moment and, for a moment, Kaede felt her chest tighten as he narrowed his eyes. Had he figured out who she was? The moment quickly passed, though, as he nodded.

“Last I heard, he’s living in Hassakacho,” the worker said. “Near the university.”

Kaede’s eyes widened as the worker revealed what was perhaps the first tangible, credible clue as to Yuuichi’s location and upon her urging, he agreed to share the information, glad to help two friends reconnect. Then, after getting his details, Kaede quickly rushed over to the train station again and, three hours later, was finally within reach of her goal.

And it was infuriating.

Before her stood a nice, two-floor detached house with white façade and clean walls and windows. A car was parked in the driveway with space for another one. Miscellaneous decorations and an abandoned ball lay next to the pathway leading to the house, and Kaede felt a sick feeling grow in her stomach.

No way. No fucking way.

Fortunately for her, no one appeared to be around right now, so no one got to see her shaken by what she was seeing, nor the trembling in her hands as she gradually began to accept a truth that promised to bring a futile end to her best laid plans.

She knocked on the door.

“Coming!”

A woman’s voice.

No. No way.

The door opened. An attractive woman, a head shorter than her, answered the door, smiling up at her.

“Oh! Hi, there! How can I help you?” she asked.

Kaede could barely hear herself think, drowned out by the roar of her emotions rapidly swirling out of control.

“Is…Does…Does Sugimura Yuuichi live here?” she finally was able to rasp out.

The woman looked her up and down and seemed to finally notice how shifty she looked, for her gaze narrowed slightly. “May I ask who’s asking?”

“I…I’m a friend.”

“And does the friend have a name?” the woman asked archly.

“Amamiya Kaede.”

The voice behind her made her freeze on the spot, even as the woman before her brightened up like the sun and smiled brilliantly at whoever was behind her.

“Welcome home!” she greeted, prompting Kaede to slowly turn around to see exactly who she now feared to see.

She watched him smile at the woman and say "I'm home!" before turning to look at her with cold eyes. “Hi, Kaede.”

Sugumiya Yuuichi, in the flesh.

Kaede stared dumbly at the cup of tea on the kitchen table before her. Opposite her sat Yuuichi, while the other woman was somewhere upstairs, apparently.

The moment of silence that passed between them was deafening and made her feel sick.

“It’s been a while.”

Kaede nodded silently, still staring at the cup of tea. Another moment of silence passed, broken only by the sounds of Yuuichi drinking from his own cup. Unlike her, he seemed perfectly at ease with himself.

Eventually, however, she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Who is she?” she asked.

Yuuichi raised a hand, causing her to look up, and she saw the ring on his finger.

“She’s my fiancée,” he told her simply. “Mia.”

Unacceptable. Utterly unacceptable.

So while she had had her life turned upside down and gotten blackballed by everyone who mattered in her life, Yuuichi – pathetic, second-rate Yuuichi – got to live in a nice house? With a fiancée?

Unacceptable!

“Forgot me pretty quick, huh?” she couldn’t help but snark.

“I’d say six months is pretty long, to be honest,” he replied calmly.

She frowned. That wasn’t right. “The last letter you sent was a year ago!”

He shrugged. “And you clearly didn’t read it.”

“I…!”

“If you had, you’d know it said I’d moved on and made peace with losing you,” he continued undeterred. “Call it a final act of catharsis.”

Kaede grit her teeth as she glowered at him, but he seemed unaffected. Instead, he just stared her down with…with pity.

Unacceptable!

“Why are you here, Kaede?” he asked her flatly.

So flatly, in fact, that it caught her off guard. “I…” she stuttered, suddenly unable to put her thoughts into words. “I…”

She paused a took a deep breath before trying to face him with the same calmness he was showing her. “I need your help.”

He eyed her impassively. “Considering our history, that’s a bit rich. But I’ll bite: with?”

Kaede’s hands balled into fists on her thighs, but she kept her cool. “I need some place to lay low.”

“Ah, yes, I imagine so. Because of that animal, Marada.”

It took Kaede considerable effort to restrain herself from lashing out at him and pointing out that at least Marada had the balls to pursue and value her, unlike him! Still, she managed to keep her cool again.

“Something like that,” she conceded through gritted teeth.

Yuuichi eyed her for a moment before folding his hands on the table. “And why is that my problem?”

Kaede reeled from the question.

“What do you mean, how is that your problem?!” she snapped back at him. “Are you serious?!”

“Very,” Yuuichi retorted flatly. “You are not my girlfriend, Kaede. You made that abundantly clear back in senior year. Hell, we’re not even friends. So, why should I spend a gram of effort helping you after what you did to me?”

Kaede stared at him helplessly as she processed what he said. He was right, of course, and she knew that. But she’d banked on him being as pathetic as Marada had made him out to be in his summary of Yuuichi’s letters. If he’d been that pathetic, then it would’ve been a simple matter of seducing him and working him to the bone while she laid low.

But that wasn’t the Yuuichi she was faced with. This Yuuichi was fulfilled, had a home and an attractive fiancée – probably even a job where his peers respected him. And sure, maybe the other woman wasn’t the bombshell Kaede was, but given he’d shown not an ounce of lustful interest in her since seeing each other outside, she was pretty certain the seduction angle was out of the window from the outset.

All that was left was the last thing she wanted to do.

Beg.

“I…I know I hurt you, Yuuichi!” she pleaded as she reached over to grasp his hands. “Please! I…I was a victim, too, remember?!”

“I also remember that he victimized three more girls after you and you never reported his behavior,” Yuuichi replied coldly. “Believe it or not, Kaede, I do follow the news.”

“T-Then you know! He was aggressive, threatening!”

“And yet you were the only one who stuck by his side. None of the others did,” Yuuichi again riposted. “And – and I can’t believe I have to say this, but…your misery doesn’t give you a free pass to cause misery unto others, Kaede!”

She stared at him, eyes watering from her despair as she could metaphorically see her life finally collapsing with absolute finality before her.

“Now, please get out. I’ve caused enough pain to Mia by even agreeing to hear you out in our home,” he told her. “And, if you ever truly did care about me, never show yourself before me or my family ever again. I am happy, and the last thing I need is you to come mess that up.”

Kaede could barely think as she was ushered out of the house. Even long after the front door closed behind her, she found her couldn’t move from her spot. Only the sound of a nearby cat meowing finally broke her out of her reverie, and even then – she was still lost.

Her final plan was gone. She had nothing more to try. Her parents hadn’t spoken to her since the scandal broke out and no amount of pleading had gotten them to hear her side of the story. Yuuichi’s parents, for their part, had slandered her to anyone close or far willing to hear, so even in her old neighborhood she was persona non grata. Old classmates had also promptly cut off contact, as had her college friends.

She had no one. No one at all.

And all because she had made the wrong choice. Because she had caved in to Marada’s temptation.

Because she had betrayed her boyfriend in the cruelest way possible.

And now, because of all of that, her life, much like the leaves of a dying tree, had come crashing down to the ground.

And it was all her own fault.

Chapter 10: Suffering

Chapter Text

“As of this moment, you are both expelled.”

Touwa stood there, an expression of utter horror and shock, as the school director laid down his sentence. Next to her, far more vocal about his disapproval, stood her stepbrother, equally shocked and angry. Behind them were their parents, also shouting and demanding answers, to which the director simply stared them all down and motioned for the vice principal to do something.

And what he did was go to the door and let in two people.

The gym teacher…and Asuna.

“We have definitive evidence that the two of you, contrary to the public morals of this school and its values, have not only engaged in repetitive, sexual acts on school grounds, but also have a history – particularly in Mitsumi’s case – of delinquent behavior. Considering this, we have chosen to proceed with expulsion without right to appeal.”

Touwa stared at her boyfriend with a look of utter betrayal, which he returned with a look of utter hatred.

And that’s when she realized what had happened. Asuna had caught them. Mitsumi and her. At the school. Having sex.

And how often had her brother asked her how he fared compared to Asuna? How many times had she insisted he was better than her boyfriend?

“Asuna…”

“Save it.”

Her boyfriend never even looked back at her as they all filed out of the office, knowing that the battle to spare her and her brother from the shame and ignominy of expulsion was definitively lost. And the way schools operated around here, there was absolutely no chance word of the circumstances behind her expulsion wouldn't spread.

Understandably, her parents were unhappy with her and her brother.

As evidenced by the remarkably red handprint that adorned her swollen cheek, or the bruised face that marred her brother’s otherwise handsome looks.

Months.

That was how long their relationship had lasted. Mere months.

After all the screaming and yelling and punching was over with, Mitsumi was gone from the house, expelled from her house and banned from ever coming back. The only reason his father hadn’t been similarly kicked out had been because, despite his own delinquent-like attitude and looks, he’d sided with Touwa’s mother in this. Mitsumi had crossed a line even by his standards, and now he had to go fend for himself – and at his age, he was old enough to live out of their old apartment.

Touwa spent the next few days in a fugue state, uncertain how her life had unraveled as much as it had. Well, that wasn’t true. She knew. She knew full well she’d lost control of her life the day Mitsumi strongarmed his way into her home, then into her room, and blackmailed her with the fact that she and Asuna had become sexually active.

She choked back a laugh as she sat, curled into a ball, in the corner of her darkened room.

It was hilarious now. The idea that Asuna and her having sex would be anywhere near a scandal. If anything, her relationship with Mitsumi had been a million times – no, a billion times worse. It had been an affront to all decency.

And yet he’d made her feel good – better than Asuna had, to be sure.

But, upon reflection, was that Asuna’s fault? Or hers? Or maybe it was both of theirs?

Certainly, he hadn’t satisfied her the way Mitsumi had, but then she’d also never ventured to him what made her feel good. She’d also cared more about getting into trouble with her mom over having sex with her boyfriend rather than decided to stay loyal to him.

It all came back to her.

She was at fault. She knew it.

The idea of taking her own life hung appealingly before her. It would be quick. She’d make sure of it. She was certainly clever enough to pull it off.

But her trembling hands never managed to find the conviction to do it. Each time she seriously gave it thought, she found herself backtracking at the last second. Then, the closest she’d ever come to following through, her mother happened upon her at the right time, and the subsequent chaos ensured her room was made devoid of anything she might use to harm herself.

She wondered why they cared. No one else did.

Her school friends had effectively cut off contact with her. Most of them did fire a parting shot of “Slut” or some other variant of the word before blocking her, though. She also didn’t dare go outside – once the word was out on what had happened in the house, even the neighbors stared at her with unmitigated disgust.

It was unfair. None of them understood or cared to.

Hell, not even her mother really seemed to give a damn about her anymore. Suicide watch aside, her mother only ever did the bare minimum to keep her alive, such as set plates of food outside her door or occasionally checking in to see if she was still breathing. Aside from that, nothing. No invitations to join her at the table downstairs. No invitations to go out as a family – or what was left of it.

Touwa might as well not have existed.

Weeks passed. Maybe months?

Touwa wasn’t sure. In the darkness of her room, isolated from the world around her and mired in her own despair, it was hard to tell how much time passed. However long it was, though, it was improbable that enough time had passed for people to forget what she’d done.

And then the knock came at the door.

“Touwa.”

It was her mom. Probably checking in as she usually did to make sure she hadn’t found some creative way to off herself. She answered with the usual grunt of acknowledgement, expecting to hear her footsteps recede.

They didn’t.

“Mitsumi’s dead.”

Huh.

What did she feel, she wondered, as she sat there in silence in the corner of her room? Was it grief? Relief? Despair? Was she glad the guy who’d shattered her life with his reckless behavior was dead? Or did she grieve the loss of the one guy who’d made her feel satisfied during sex?

Were those even equal in weight? Equal in category?

Touwa wasn’t sure. She certainly wasn’t able to formulate the words to express her feelings. Not now, when she heard the news, and definitely not a few days later, when she stood with her mom and stepdad before Mitsumi’s coffin.

It was closed casket. Apparently, he’d gotten into a fight with a bunch of other delinquents who had a bone to pick with him and in the struggle, he’d fallen onto the street, his upper torso crushed by a passing truck. He’d been unrecognizable, in fact, until the police had fished out his ID and reached out to his father for a DNA test.

Which came back positive.

Mitsumi was dead.

And here, at the funeral, only three people and the priest were in attendance – a testament to the utter social rejection Mitsumi’s behavior had garnered him.

Would her own funeral be the same, Touwa wondered? Would the only mourners present be her mom and stepfather and the priest? Would they, like now, shed no tears – only stare grimly at the picture of younger Mitsumi?

Even as they left, Touwa was struck by how fleeting Mitsumi’s existence appeared to have been. Now that the funeral was over, there would be nothing of him left in the world. The apartment he’d lived in would be sold off by his father. His friends, if he’d had any, hadn’t even bothered to attend his funeral. No one had mourned the loss of him.

Not even, if she was honest, Touwa.

Was it relief, she wondered again? Or despair? Was she just unable to feel anything because of how muted her emotions felt?

Or did she genuinely not care that he’d died?

She wondered about that all the way back to the house and up to her room, where she again sat in her corner and let her thoughts drag her away from reality.

Mitsumi was dead.

And she was alone.

Had he thought of her before he died? Had he even spared her a thought in all this time?

It was annoying that she would never know now. That there was nothing she could demand of him to make up for his part in ruining her life. All she had left of him was a slowly vanishing memory of what he’d looked like. Even the memory of his touch slowly faded away with time. She’d tried, desperately, to keep it alive by touching herself initially – the absence of sex after such an intense period of hypersexual activity feeling like torture – but over time realized it wasn’t the same. The joy of getting off gradually died off until it felt more clinical than enjoyable. More habit than pleasure.

So.

She’d even lost that to Mitsumi.

A teary chuckle escaped her mouth as she realized once more just how much she’d lost. Her school life, her boyfriend, her future, her mother’s love, her innocence – all gone. All of it. She was more akin to a lifeless doll now than a person. An empty vessel whose soul had shriveled up and died long ago.

She tried again to end it all. She came close, too. But, once more, her mother and stepfather had managed to get to her in time and rush her to the hospital. She considered begging them to let her die, but even as they treated her – even as she subsequently recovered – she could hear them judging her.

“Killing herself to join her incestuous stepbrother. Shameful.”

It figured. It figured that, again, Mitsumi would ruin everything. Even dying was now somehow a validation of their opinions of her and Mitsumi. They truly would never let this go. So long as the memory of Mitsumi remained alive – and her people had long memories – she would never be free of her past.

How mad. How unfair.

How completely predictable.

Hikikomori.

That was what she’d effectively been reduced to. Her hair had grown out to alarming lengths, burdened with split ends and greasy to the touch. Her skin had turned sickly pale from the lack of sunlight. Her muscles effectively atrophied as she spent her days on her bed or in the corner, wallowing in her misery. The only silver lining – if one could call it that – being that her total loss of appetite meant she had gained no weight, as she might’ve been concerned about over a year ago, but instead lost an alarming amount of it.

So emaciated and miserable to look at she was that, as far as the neighborhood and the world were concerned, a ghost lived in her room.

Over a year passed since the incident that shattered her life apart, and Touwa’s existence might as well have been a fever dream as far as everyone was concerned. At least, it was to those who only knew of the case from afar. For those closer to the incident, there was no forgetting.

Did the Shizuri even have a daughter? Oh, right – the one who fucked her stepbrother. You know, the one that got himself killed. Serves him right. I hear she tried to off herself shortly after to be with him. Really? Shameful.

How many times must Touwa have heard that conversation, or some variant of it, from her bedroom window? How many furtive glances from neighbors and curious children?

None of them really cared, of course. They just wanted to see what she’d do to feed their inane gossip. Not even her parents cared – after all, when her mom got pregnant, she only informed Touwa by way of a note slid under the door. When she gave birth to her little brother and finally brought him home, no one bothered to fetch her.

She was a ghost – one whose existence her little brother would probably never understand.

She scoffed as she remembered the name they’d given him – Yoshiro. Righteous. As if the name would wash away the stigma of being related to her.

A knock at the door.

Was it time for the tri-weekly check-up already? It wasn’t like she paid it much attention, honestly – she’d long given up on taking her own life once she realized it was a futile exercise.

She grunted at the door as she usually did, and once again expected the footsteps to recede.

But, just like on the day Mitsumi died, no such sound greeted her.

“Touwa.”

She twitched at the sound of the familiar voice, raising her head slightly. It couldn’t be.

“Can I please come in?”

Her mother and stepfather would’ve never asked the question, knowing it was a pointless one. After her first failed suicide attempt, the lock on her door had been removed immediately. Which, of course, meant that the reason no one bothered to come in here was because no one cared to.

Something her visitor probably hadn’t known.

“I just want to talk.”

What, exactly, possessed her to get up and walk over to the door – she didn’t know. It wasn’t like anything would magically change. It wasn’t like he could make the past year and a half disappear.

But open it she did anyway.

He reeled, as she imagined he would, at her unkempt and disastrous appearance. At least, that’s how she imagined she looked – she’d broken her only mirror long ago. Even so, she couldn’t have looked too healthy. By contrast, he looked healthy, stable. He was taller, too – his muscles seemed more defined, like he’d been involved in some kind of sport. He had the same face, though. Only that remained relatively unchanged.

“Good god, Touwa…”

If her life had proven anything, it was that God wasn’t good. Or maybe it was because he was good that her life was miserable?

She didn’t know and she didn’t say. All she did was let him into her room and retreated to her corner while he looked around and coughed at all the accumulated dust. That was fair – her mother only really cleaned her room about once a week at this point.

She winced as he pulled open the curtains, letting in the first rays of sunlight she’d seen in a while.

She winced again as she felt the outside breeze flow in when he opened the window, letting the stench of her room filter out.

And then he sat on her bed – her cursed bed. Her hated bed. The bed that had ruined everything for her – and looked over at her, his hands anxiously fidgeting.

“You…don’t look well.”

She couldn’t help it. She snorted.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his nape. “Yeah, dumb observation, I guess…”

She said nothing, staring at the floor as she always did. They sat in that awkward silence for a while – to the point where Touwa wondered if perhaps he’d chicken out and just leave.

But no, he didn’t. He just sat there, on that hated, cursed bed, and then got up and went to her bare desk, pointing at a book – one of the few things her mother hadn’t removed because she figured it’d be hard to kill yourself with a book.

“I remember this one,” he said with a nostalgic smile. “This was the book I saw you reading the first day we were in the same class.”

Touwa’s eyes rose to stare at him. Was it? She couldn’t remember. Hell, she couldn’t remember much of anything these days. It was like someone had poked holes in her memory.

He chuckled, unknowing of her confusion. “You looked so prim and proper. I was immediately intimidated!”

Ah. He meant the old Touwa. Perfect Touwa. The diligent student. The dutiful daughter. The one with all the prospects and future. The non-fuck-up who didn’t sleep with her stepbrother and betray her boyfriend. The one who didn’t get expelled from school and wasn’t a living shame and stain upon her family.

“Ah, and this is the one you got on Valentine’s Day from your mother three years ago,” he continued reminiscing. “You were so happy that day…”

Why?

Why was he babbling about any of this?

That Touwa was gone. Dead and gone. She’d died on the day Mitsumi had managed to goad her into letting him fuck her.

“Your mom called me.”

Touwa’s gaze sharpened as she stared up at him, wide eyes peering into sad, pitying browns and vice versa.

“I…didn’t want to come,” he admitted as he rubbed his nape nervously, looking away from her. “I told her as much.”

Why, then?

She didn’t even realize she’d spoken aloud until she saw him wince at the raspy nature of her voice – a consequence of barely saying a word for months on end.

“She told me how you were doing. Begged me to come,” he explained. “I…felt bad.”

That was rich. That was so fucking rich.

“Bull…shit.”

The helpless smile on his face did not help. “Yeah, I know how it sounds.”

“You…ha…te…me…”

“I do, Touwa,” he confirmed. “I really do.”

Part of her wondered how she got to her feet, or how she’d managed to cross over to him and grasp at his shirt before collapsing onto her knees – every ounce of energy in her body seemingly evaporated by the mere attempt to reach him.

“Then…why…?”

“I don’t know.”

It was probably the most honest reply she’d heard from anyone regarding this whole fracas. He wasn’t hopping onto his moral high horse. He wasn’t trying to make her feel better with empty platitudes. He was acknowledging that even though he had every justification to keep hating her forever, he had still come to see her.

She knelt there for what felt like forever before realizing that she felt warmer now. That something was pressed hard against her.

He was hugging her.

“But…maybe…it’s because as angry as I was towards you, I hated Mitsumi more. And when he died, a lot of that hate left with him,” he told her as he pulled back and parted her fringe to look into her eyes. “So…maybe…I hate you less than I did.”

He looked away for a few seconds before coughing awkwardly into a fist.

“Maybe…I’m just finally ready to listen and help you.”

Touwa felt her eyes burn as she continued staring wide-eyed at the opposite wall. It felt like a dam inside her had broken and a torrent of repressed emotions poured forth. Her limp arms rose, shaking like leaves, to grasp at his back as choked sobs made their way up her throat. Her cheeks grew wet and wetter still from the unrelenting tears that now streamed freely.

“I’m…sorry…” she wept. “I’m…sorry!”

“I am, too,” he told her. “For not listening. For just being angry.”

“I’m…sorry…Asuna!” she wailed. “I…I’m…so…sorry!”

The sobs and wails continued for longer than Touwa could count. And throughout all of that, Asuna held her as she let out every tear and sob she’d repressed for over a year. It felt like her very soul was being emptied of the darkness and despair that had haunted her ever since the day Mistumi had coerced her to let him do her.

At last, after a year of suffering – for the very first time since then – Touwa felt free.

Chapter 11: Decency

Chapter Text

Nagata Ai prided herself on being observant.

It was, after all, one of the major skills required of an artist – to be able to observe and take in every aspect of the thing you replicate in your art. Whether it is a detail crafted in the mind’s eye or a detail in a real-world object was immaterial – details could make or break a work of art.

When she’d joined the Art Club at her high school, she’d been enthusiastic about the level of commitment the club president, Nakatani Himeno, demonstrated for her craft. She was sure that, here, in this art club, she would find the environment to improve her artistic skills to the next level, helped along by helpful seniors and joined in her efforts by a fellow junior.

Until that day.

The day she realized she forgot something back at the club room and, without meaning to, stumbled upon the shocking sight of two of her seniors, Himeno and Kenji, screwing like animals.

Fortunately, she’d managed to cover her mouth before the involuntary shriek came out, successfully muffling it. Nonetheless, she’d immediately hid and, in a panicked sweat, stayed out of sight as they carried on with their tryst, hearing every word and moan they said.

And then she got angry.

The two lovers inside were mocking their fellow senior, Takeo. While Ai found him a bit too puppy-like and hopelessly devoted to Himeno, she’d had to admit that some part of her found that charming on its own. But, lately, his expression had been glum. Depressed. She’d figured something at home must’ve made him glum seeing as how he kept up such a happy pretense around everyone at school.

And yet, hearing the two inside talk about his inadequacies in such a…vile manner, she was forced to reconsider. Perhaps it was not an issue at home – perhaps it was an issue stemming from Kenji and Himeno. A pair whose behavior was reprehensible, to say the least!

And yet, Ai didn’t know what to do. How did she proceed? Should she confront them? Should she tell Takeo? A teacher, maybe?

She wasn’t sure. Her powers of observation did not also bless her with the ability to immediately act upon what she observed.

So she did the next best thing, reckless as it was – she recorded as much of the tryst as she was able discreetly, then fled the premises.

But, over the next few days, she still found herself unsure what to do next. Should she come forward about this? The kind of behavior Kenji and Himeno had participated in was technically against the rules at the school. They would definitely get into serious trouble!

But was that the right thing to do?

She thought of Takeo and wondered – what about asking him? He was the victim here. Right?

Argh…but what would mean having to acknowledge that she was aware of Kenji and Himeno’s insults against him.

Still uncertain, she turned to the only other person she could think of – her best friend, Kaori.

“Holy shit!”

Ai nodded fervently as her friend reacted to her summary of the events. “Exactly!”

“Man, poor Muroi,” Kaori lamented as she lay on Ai’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“So?” Ai pressed as she knelt by the bed. “What should I do?”

Her friend was silent for a moment. “You have the evidence, right?” she asked.

Ai nodded.

“And no one’s seen it other than you?”

Ai shook her head.

Her friend was silent again for a few seconds before rolling over to look at her. “Seems to me you’ve got a few options,” she said before raising one finger. “One: tell the school anonymously and those two are going to face the music. But if they suspect the information comes from Muroi, they’ll probably try to drag him down with them.”

Ai’s eyes widened. “He doesn’t deserve that!”

“I know,” Kaori replied sagely before raising a second finger. “Option two: tell the school without hiding your identity and they’ll get into trouble but Muroi’s in the clear unless they’re real psychopaths.”

“Except everyone knows I tattled,” Ai lamented, dropping her face onto the bed.

“Yep,” Kaori agreed. “So there might be some blowback on that end.”

“Both options suck. What’s option three?”

Kaori shrugged. “You could get any of them to confess to the situation on their own, making it their own problem.”

Ai snorted.

“Exactly,” her friend agreed, raising a fourth finger. “So I think the best bet is to let them implode on their own.”

“You mean, let them continue as they are?” Ai asked.

“Yup.”

“That’s not healthy, though!” Ai protested. “Haven’t you seen Muroi lately? He’s all gloomy and depressed!”

Kaori fixed her with a stern stare. “As cold as this sounds, that’s really more his problem, Ai.”

“Is it?” Ai challenged her. “Think about it: has Art Club been the same as always recently?”

Kaori’s stare wavered as she cupper her chin and thought. “…No, I suppose not.”

“Right?” Ai pressed. “There’s this weird feeling in the air, like…”

“Yeah, I get where you’re going with this,” Kaori agreed. “Whatever happened between the three of them really messed up the dynamic in the club.” She sighed and flopped back onto her back. “Man, this is a headache! Why can’t someone just deal with this instead? It’s not like we’re their parents!”

“Heh, yeah. I mean, if we were…!”

Pause.

Both friends reached the same point at the same time as their heads snapped over to look at the other and they locked mutually understanding gazes.

“Their parents!”

“A brief announcement before we begin class. Just wanted to let you all know that, according to the head office, Nakatani has apparently decided to switch schools and Himuro is sick today.”

Takeo stared at the teacher in stunned surprise as the announcement dropped.

How…how was that possible? He’d just seen both of them the previous day and, overnight, Himeno was gone and Kenji was suddenly and mysteriously ill? It stretched the imagination to think that the two situations were unrelated, and the very idea festered in his head throughout the school day.

The moment the bell rang, Takeo grabbed his stuff and ran out of school, sprinting over to Kenji’s house, all the while concocting any number of scenarios to explain what had happened.

An answer he got when Kenji’s mother answered the door and, upon seeing him, drew him into a hug.

“Oh, you poor boy!”

Takeo stiffened at the sudden, unbidden contact, uncertain how to react. He could barely protest when she practically dragged him inside and sat him in the living room before calling for her husband. He tried to ask about Kenji but she wouldn’t hear of it, instead giving him tea and snacks as they waited for her husband to apparently come down – wasn’t today a work day?

And when he saw Kenji’s father, the man immediately bowed low at him.

“Muroi-kun! I…I apologize for being such a worthless father to my worthless son!”

Takeo stared at him in shock and confusion. What were they talking about?

“P-Please! That’s n-not necessary!” he insisted, gesturing wildly. “I just came because I heard that Kenji was sick and a classmate of ours dropped out!”

Disgust.

It was for the briefest moments, but he saw it – a glance of pure disgust both parents shot up at the ceiling, aimed clearly at where he knew Kenji’s room was located.

And then they sat down and explained.

Apparently, last night, a girl from the school had shown up to inform them that Kenji and Himeno had been hooking up illicitly at the school. While that had been bad enough on its own, the girl then showed them a video of their son having sex with said girl all the while insulting Takeo’s dignity as a person and as a lover.

“We can only apologize, Muroi-kun,” Kenji’s father said as he bowed in his seat alongside his wife. “We…we had no idea our son had grown up to be such a worthless person!”

To say that Takeo felt gutted was an understatement. He knew, of course, that Himeno and Kenji had been engaged in a carnal relationship – he’d been goaded into joining as well, after all. He’d already felt somewhat betrayed by Kenji so aggressively pursuing his crush, but when he insisted it was purely carnal, he’d rationalized it away. But to hear that there was video evidence of the two of them insulting him behind his back was…painful.

“I…thought we were friends,” he said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gazed at his balled-up fists on his legs.

“We’re…so very sorry, Muroi-kun,” Kenji’s mom repeated, sounding every bit as devastated as he felt. It had been her son, after all, that had caused such immense pain.

“Rest assured, Kenji will be disciplined as harshly as he deserves,” his father added. “I did not raise my son to be such a wanton excuse of a human being!”

Takeo didn’t comment on that, instead focusing on the more salient issue.

“What happened to the video?”

The two adults before him exchanged a look. “The girl sent us a copy and then deleted hers. I believe she did the same for that…slut’s parents.”

And considering Nakatani’s parents were infamously conservative…

“Do you have the girl’s name, by any chance?” he asked.

Kenji’s mom shook her head. “I’m afraid not – she said she didn’t want to garner any attention for herself.”

Takeo nodded. “Thank you for answering my questions and explaining,” he said with sad gratitude. They nodded back at him and watched as he got up and bowed to them. “I will be headed home now.”

Both parents nodded and bowed low again at him. “Again, Muroi-kun: we’re very sorry this happened to you.”

Takeo nodded in acknowledgement before departing the house, lingering only long enough to hear the parents screaming at who he could only assume, judging from their presence in the upstair window, was Kenji.

Giving it no further heed, he turned away and headed back home.

Where he found himself facing another, bizarre situation.

Seated in his living room, opposite his concerned and confused parents, were Himeno and who he could only assume were her own parents.

“Takeo! Welcome back!” his mother greeted him in surprise and relief. She gestured at the two unfamiliar adults sandwiching Himeno. “These are…”

“Nakatani Yousuke,” the man introduced himself sternly with a polite bow.

“Nakatani Ayumu,” the woman then added with a demure bow.

“We are this one’s parents,” Himeno’s father added, motioning to his petrified daughter as she winced and practically shrunk in on herself at her father’s withering stare and the disgust in his tone.

It was telling of how disapproving her parents were that when Himeno tried to look up at her mother for support, she found an equally angry glare aimed at her.

“They arrived a few minutes ago,” Takeo’s dad quickly filled in. “Said they needed to apologize?”

Takeo could guess why and nodded in thanks to the Nakatani parents. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Nakatani, but that’s alright.”

“Nonsense!” Himeno’s father grumbled. “This one had the temerity to act like a loose woman and in such a vulgar manner!”

“Please do accept our apologies, Muroi-san,” her mother added politely. “Even if you choose to forgive her, her behavior was unacceptable and beneath that of a decent person.”

There was a pregnant pause as all eyes fell on Himeno, who again visibly shrunk from the shame and embarrassment she was being put through. A pause that was broken when Takeo’s father finally raised a hand.

“Um…thank you for the apologies, but what is this about?”

And then the secrets started flowing. Kenji and Himeno’s romps in school, her deviant behavior in public, the whole notion of sex friends and such.

Perhaps the only saving grace Takeo faced was that his name never came up, though he had no idea why.

Regardless, by the time the Nakatani parents were through narrating their daughter’s every fault, she was red-faced and crying while Takeo’s parents were outraged.

“I can’t believe something like that happened!” his mother exclaimed. “And at school, no less!”

“What has become of our nation’s youth?!” his father agreed.

Himeno’s father nodded gravely. “Precisely, and that is why we agreed to come here and apologize.” He then roughly grabbed his daughter by the back of the head and forced her to bow low towards Takeo and his parents. His wife emulated him with far more grace. “On behalf of our family, we sincerely apologize for our daughter’s shameful behavior. We have already removed her from the school and will be sending her to a much stricter, more appropriate institution that will help fix these disgraceful flaws in her character!”

Takeo honestly could only watch on in stunned disbelief at this turn of events, unable to properly formulate the words to react. Even as the Nakatani excused themselves subsequently and left, even as his parents comforted him and expressed their empathy, even as he turned in for bed that night…he still couldn’t really process what had happened.

But one major question rang at the forefront of his mind.

Why had the girl come forward to Himeno and Kenji’s parents?

“Muroi-senpai! I’m finished!”

Takeo smiled as he walked over to his junior’s easel and observed her work. Compared to where she was a month ago, there had been a marked improvement, especially regarding her choice of color palettes and her sense of perspective.

“Excellent work,” he praised, causing her to shoot him a radiant smile and prompting playful boos from other, nearby juniors who had wanted to get his praise first.

It wasn’t easy being Art Club President, especially when 40% of the club had quit a year ago under mysterious circumstances – one dropping out of school entirely (Kenji) and the other transferring to god knows where (Himeno). By default, then, he’d inherited Himeno’s position and, determined to make a change, he’d done all he could to foster a nurturing and safe space for his juniors, aided by his underclassmen, Nagata Ai and Wakada Kaori.

He was thankful to the two best friends – whenever he seemed overwhelmed by the sheer amount of juniors they had, the two would step in and help and Takeo found that his life was easier when he just depended on his trustworthy underclassmen instead of bottling up everything and putting too much pressure on himself.

He wondered if that was why Himeno had given in to her lust a year ago. Was it the constant pressure of trying to be perfect that drove her to being so wild about sex? Had that been it? If so, Takeo wanted none of that.

“Takeo!”

He smiled brightly as a familiar girl entered the club room and waved at him.

“Minami!”

He ignored the faux-gagging from Ai and Kaori as his girlfriend came in and gave him a peck on the cheek, prompting playful cat calls and teasing. He mock-glared at his juniors before waving them off.

“Alright, alright! Enough of that! We have a festival coming up, so put your backs into it if you want your work displayed!”

As that lit another fire under their seats, Takeo turned back to Minami, who grinned at him.

“Look at you, all large and in charge!” she teased.

“Someone has to be,” Takeo replied with a wink. “You’re early today. What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Just felt like seeing you,” she said unapologetically glancing at an empty seat in the back. “Do you mind?”

Takeo shook his head. “You’re always welcome here. Just ignore the brats.”

“Big words coming from someone who relies on his underclassmen to keep order,” Kaori observed as she walked by with Ai carrying supplies. Takeo and Minami chuckled in response.

“That’s fair,” he conceded.

Minami and he turned to look at their juniors working as hard as they could on their own personal projects, and in that moment he felt her entangle his fingers with hers.

“Wanna come over after this?” she asked him softly – too softly for anyone but him to hear.

Takeo stared at her in surprise – this was the first time since their nascent relationship had begun that she’d made the offer. And, looking at his underclassmen – the sharp-eyed Ai and her best friend Kaori, who seemed to be aware of the nature of what he’d been asked and just sighed helplessly at him – Takeo felt something unfamiliar.

Comfort.

When he’d first lusted after Himeno and been goaded into her and Kenji’s messed up games, he hadn’t felt comfortable at all. Everything had been a competition. Everything had been about dominance. About superiority.

But now, here, with Minami in hand, he felt none of that. Minami wasn’t the object of competition between him and anyone else. She was his girlfriend and she wanted him.

He smiled down at her.

“Sure.”

Chapter 12: Withered Hydrangea

Chapter Text

It was karmic, in a way.

“What…what is this?”

Shinomiya Natsuha could barely hear her boyfriend, Yamano Yuuta’s, words as she stared at the front back of the school building’s foyer. There, plastered all over the walls, were photo after photo after photo of Natsuha and the school’s resident delinquent and playboy, Oga Masaru, engaging in some rather filthy sex.

Teachers were scrambling to get rid of them, but it seemed that whoever had put them up had used some pretty heavy-grade glue to make sure they stuck, and the sight of a few of them running by with shredded photographs in their hands indicated that the foyer was probably not the only place in the school that had received such treatment.

Even upon arrival at the school, Natsuha had begun to sense that the atmosphere was different than usual. Judgmental glances and open staring from students who had their mobile phones out, likely receiving photos and news from their classmates already inside, had abounded. For a moment, she’d thought she must’ve been paranoid – after all, as far as the school was concerned, she was basically perfect.

But she hadn’t been paranoid. Not at all.

“Natsu-ane…”

It took her a moment to realize that Yuuta’s hand was no longer in hers, and upon turning to look at him, reeled at the look of pure outrage, despair, and fury in his eyes.

“Tell me this isn’t true!” he cried out at her, drawing even more attention towards her.

Suddenly snapped out of her initial shock, Natsuha looked around her frantically, her mind quickly realizing the magnitude of the situation. Forget her boyfriend finding out – the entire school was now aware of what she’d done!

“Slut.”

“Whore.”

“Hypocrite!”

The whispered accusations surrounded her in a flash as her classmates and other students pounced upon her sudden and irreversible fall from grace. Her reputation had been immaculate thus far, as had her fame as a cheater-hater.

And yet she’d just been outed as one.

“No!” she denied immediately. “This…this isn’t true!”

But no one believed her. She could see it in their eyes – no one was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. The evidence against her was simply too stacked.

And then, out of seemingly nowhere, someone marched up to her and slapped her across the face. The force of the impact was such that she stumbled back, her cheek flaring up in pain, and it took her a moment to blink away the tears and pain to look up and see her attacker.

Despite the shouting of protest from teachers and other students, her aggressor seemed unmoved by what she’d done.

Oga’s girlfriend.

“Whore,” she spat at Natsuha.

You whore!

Unbidden memories of her mother’s angry outburst at her father’s mistress burst to the forefront as Natsuha superimposed the image of her heartbroken mother over the angrily weeping girl before her.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. She was the cheater-hater. She wasn’t a bad person! She’d only…she’d only…

She’d only become exactly what had driven her father away in the first place.

The realization broke her.

Natsuha didn’t even realize she was screaming from her position on the ground, clasping her head and awash with guilt and despair, until a couple of teachers grabbed her by the arms and pulled her away from he jeering crowd of fellow students. Even when they got her to the nurse’s office, she was inconsolable – alternating between horrified screaming and weeping.

No one came to soothe her.

Even the nurse, who had initially been sympathetic, quickly became cold and distant once she was made aware of what Natsuha had done. There was little sympathy to be found for a cheater, after all.

Forty minutes later, Natsuha was quickly collected by a staff member and escorted to the principal’s office, where her mother had arrived with the principal and vice principal waiting as well.

For a brief moment, Natsuha hoped someone had come to make her pain go away, but one look at her mother’s face told her everything.

There would be no forgiveness or compassion even at home.

“I understand that this is a private issue between students and between yourself and your daughter, Miss Shinomiya,” the principal said, sweating anxiously as he tried to find the right words to address the delicate issue. “But you have to understand – a situation like this is not something the school can easily sweep aside. Despite our school’s rather liberal regulations regarding student relationships, you can surely understand that something like this…”

“I understand, sir,” her mother cut in with an apologetic bow. “My worthless daughter has put you all in an unforgivable position and forgotten her basic values. I can only apologize for my failings as a mother.”

Those were not the words Natsuha had hoped to hear. She’d wanted – hoped – that her mother would take her side and defend her from the stares, from the jeers.

She had hoped too naively. Or perhaps she’d simply been deluded, considering what her father had put the poor woman through.

“The apology is appreciated, Miss Shinomiya,” the vice principal pressed, “but it doesn’t really solve our problem. As it stands, we have already begun with expulsion proceedings for Mister Oga. We’d heard rumors of his misbehavior for some time but were never able to get actionable evidence of it. However, if we don’t take action against your daughter as well, there will be outcry.”

Natsuha felt her blood freeze. Surely, they couldn’t mean…?

Her mother shot her a disgusted and disappointed look before turning back to the school administrators. “We will, of course, accept the school’s judgment,” she said. “I only ask that, if possible, you take the first offense nature of her actions into account.”

Natsuha silently watched the principal and vice principal eye each other for a moment before the latter sighed and looked away while the principal wiped his balding forehead with a handkerchief.

“That is a fair point, and regrettable life choices aside, Shinomiya-san has always been a diligent student,” he conceded. “To that end, I don’t believe expulsion is merited just yet, but I would recommend accepting a long-term suspension.”

“Oh?”

It was clear where the principal was coming from. Although the severity of her actions required punishment, expulsion was too drastic an option for a first offense given the school’s rather lenient policies regarding student fraternization. However, while a suspension generally lasted up to 2 weeks, no one at school would so quickly forget the incident.

It was, in a way, more for her own protection to stay at home for as long as possible than for anything else.

As the principal explained all of this to her mother, Natsuha just stared down at her thighs. It didn’t matter. It honestly didn’t. Two weeks or two years, no one was going to forget this. How many of her classmates had taken photos with their cellphones and were likely already sending it among each other or posting it on the internet? How many were probably going to use her photos as fap material?

The worst part is that she didn’t know who had done this. There was no sign of the culprit, and the school didn’t seem all that interested in finding out – after all, it would look like they were trying to blame the whistleblower for her behavior rather than Natsuha herself.

By the end of the negotiations, Natsuha was saddled with a 1-year suspension, effectively wiping out her school year. While she could and would take supplementary lessons throughout that period, the collective absences would force her to repeat a year – thereby obliterating her otherwise picture-perfect academic record.

Her mother never raised a single protest throughout the discussion. Aside from the initial glowers, in fact, her mother refused to even look at her.

It wasn’t until they were both in her mother’s car, well on their way back home, that she said anything.

“Yuu-kun didn’t deserve that.”

Those words – not of comfort for her devastated daughter, but of recrimination and pity for her boyfriend – set Natsuha off again, though she managed to keep her weeping silent.

No other words were exchanged between mother and daughter for the rest of the ride home, and even when they pulled up at the house, her mother remained silent, but didn’t get out. Unsure whether to go ahead or not, Natsuha also stayed put, still quietly crying.

And then her mother said the last thing she’d wanted to hear.

“I’ll call your father and make arrangements for you to move to his place,” she said softly.

“Mom!”

“Enough,” her mother cut her off, a heartbroken and betrayed expression on her face. “Enough, Natsuha. I haven’t always been the best mother, I know that, but you knew what your father put me through when he had his affair! You know what it did to our family! And yet you lied to me each time that…that…manwhore came over to visit! You told me it was Yuu-kun, told me he was shy about it! You told me you loved him!”

Natsuha tried to reach out to her mother, but got her hand slapped away for the trouble.

“Just…go inside,” her mother said, refusing to look at her.

Natsuha hesitated for a moment.

“GO, Natsuha!”

She flinched at her mother’s sharp outburst and quickly scampered out of the car. Except for the day she’d found out about her father’s affair, Natsuha had never seen her mother so emotionally devastated. And the realization that Yuuta was probably much the same way felt like a dagger in the heart.

Inside her room, Natsuha fell to the floor and let the tears flow again as she experienced the full weight of her guilt and remorse. She’d always prided herself about being a high-minded, moral person – but just the mere absence of her boyfriend for a few days a week had led to her abandoning everything for some carnal comfort from the guy who most resembled the man she hated so much – her own father.

She eventually heard her mother come in and, true to her word, she could hear the start of her mother’s conversation over the phone with her ex-husband as she walked by the room. She really was well and truly done with her.

A few hours later, realizing her mother hadn’t left her room to even have dinner, Natsuha went over and timidly knocked on the door frame.

No one answered.

Walking in tentatively, she saw her mother on her bed, facing away from the door.

“…Mom?”

Her heart caught a little as her mother didn’t answer, but then relaxed as she saw a little bit of movement.

“Go away, Natsuha.”

Every instinct in her body told her to comply, but she stood her ground and knelt on the ground in supplication.

“Please! Please don’t send me away!” she begged. “Not to him!”

Her mother didn’t move.

“Fine,” she eventually said, making Natsuha’s hopes soar.

“Really?!” she exclaimed, not expecting it to be so easy.

“But you can’t stay here,” her mother added flatly, crushing her daughter’s hopes. “Then go stay with that manwhore you like so much. Or anywhere else, really. I don’t care anymore. Except here. You’re no longer welcome in this house.”

“…Mom?” Natsuha whispered in shock, her eyes wide as she continued staring at her mother’s back. “…Mom? You’re joking, right? Please?”

“Go, Natsuha.”

She wasn’t joking, evidently.

No amount of begging or pleading got her mother to turn to face her. No amount of crying or shouting, either. Even when she threatened to kill herself, her mother hadn’t budged.

In ever growing despair, Natsuha rushed back to her house and grabbed her phone, quickly looking up a particular number. Fine.

Fine.

Her mother wanted to play this game? Fine!

Toot. Toot. Toot…

Click.

“Masaru?” she asked.

“Who’s this?”

The unfamiliar voice surprised her and she actually checked her phone to make sure the caller ID matched. It did.

“Where’s Masaru?!” she demanded.

“Masa…oh! Yo, guys! I think this’s the asshole’s little slut!”

Natsuha’s eyes widened as she suddenly heard jeers in the background. And in the middle of that, whimpering.

“Who is this? Where’s Masaru?!” she asked.

“’Fraid he can’t come to the phone, little whore. See, his dick cashed in too many checks and crossed a line it shouldn’t have. So, now, we’re here to teach him proper manners – ain’t that right, fellas?!”

The roar of approval in the background horrified her.

“Please!” she begged. “Please don’t kill him!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” the unknown person on the other side assured her mirthfully. “He just won’t be using his dick ever again.”

A sickening sound in the background was followed by a blood-curdling scream, causing Natsuha to inadvertently sob in horrified shock.

“Well, it’s my turn with the baseball bat now, so gotta run! Friendly piece of advice: get yourself checked – he’s not been especially careful as far as we’ve heard. Toodles!”

She tried to appeal one last time to the unknown person but the line was abruptly cut. She stared down at her phone in horror and her mind raced as to what to do now. Did she call the police? Did she report this?

Her fingers were already rushing to dial the appropriate number when she froze in place. What if they didn’t catch the perpetrators? What if Masaru refused to out them out of fear? What if they came after her next?

Bile began to rise up her throat and she dashed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. Even after she finished, though, she found herself no less panicking or unsure how to proceed. Her mother seemed dead serious about evicting her, and if she didn’t make it out of this place ASAP, she’d end up with her hated father and his mistress – an ever living reminder that she was every bit as bad as he was!

She tried calling her friends – no dice. They either didn’t answer or outright stopped her call attempts, and some even IM’ed her to cut off ties with her before blocking her.

In desperation, she even tried to call Yuuta despite how shameless she knew she was being.

“The number you have called cannot be reached. Please try again later or leave a voicemail after the beep…”

Once, twice, seven times she tried, only to be met with the same response. She tried IM’ing him – only the one checkmark.

He’d blocked her. That was the only explanation. Right?

In a panic, she did the only thing she could think of – she took her bike and, despite the setting sun, pedaled her way over to his house – over 1 km away. Panting and sweating, she stopped just outside his house and saw the lights were on and gave a quick prayer of thanks before setting her bike against a lamp post and then walking up towards the door.

And in that moment, the door opened and a very pissed off Ms. Yamano – Yuuta’s mother – stood before her.

“Miss…Miss Yamano…”

“Leave.”

The icy tone with which the word was uttered made Natsuha flinch and freeze in place. Just two days ago, her reception would’ve been very different. She would’ve been welcomed with open arms and even offered food and drink and then ushered over to Yuuta for them to hang out and bond. She’d even joked about how Natsuha would make the perfect future daughter-in-law.

Now, all Natsuha saw in those once compassionate and kind eyes was hatred and fury.

“I…I can explain…!”

If anything, that seemed to enrage Yuuta’s mother even more, though she appeared to still have control of her senses because all she did was slam the door shut and very audibly lock the door.

Natsuha sank to her knees. Now what? What options were left before her now? Her friends had abandoned her, her boyfriend hated her, her school wanted her gone, her lover was probably being sent to the hospital as she knelt here, and her mother had made it clear that she was unwelcome in her own home.

Everything was gone. Everything was taken from her.

Her life, once blooming and precious, had withered like hydrangeas affected by plague. Every petal that had made her beautiful, honored, and respected had fallen – all because of the mistake she’d made.

Maybe, one day, she would bloom again – but for now, the future looked bleak.

And as the lights of her now former boyfriend’s home went out one by one, Natsuha knelt there on the cold ground, a withered flower left to rot.

Chapter 13: Hitorijime Undone

Chapter Text

“We got a call from the bank today.”

“Hmm?”

“Bills are overdue still.”

“Hmm.”

“…are you planning to do anything about that?”

“Busy.”

Akina glowered over at her husband as he lounged on the bed drinking beer, his favorite TV program on. Ever since they’d gotten together back in high school, Akina and Tatsuya had maintained their relationship well past her graduation – going as far as to marry just a few months after her graduation.

Suffice to say, her parents had not approved at all given Tatsuya’s hyper-aggressive disposition and lack of prospects – in addition to preferring her childhood friend for her – but Akina had insisted upon the marriage anyway. In the end, they had agreed to the match, but it was telling of how little esteem her marriage to him had garnered her that, out of the nearly 70 invitations sent out for the wedding, only 12 showed up – all of them from Tatsuya’s side. Not even one of her schoolmates had deigned to attend. Her own parents only attended the civil registration process and refused to participate or pay for the religious ceremony, which of course meant they’d had to nix it entirely because Tatsuya’s parents couldn’t afford the expense.

She’d effectively been cut out of everyone’s lives…just for choosing Tatsuya.

In fairness, she understood many of the absences – unlike her classmates, Akina’s university education evaporated as a possible choice the moment her relationship with Tatsuya became formalized with their engagement. Her parents simply refused to pay for university so long as she was with him.

Tatsuya’s own university prospects were null and void given his grades, but there had been decent expectations that he could make it in a technical or vocational college. He’d already shown decent ability at specialized manual labor, after all, so a decent livelihood as a blue-collar family was certainly in the cards.

Except that, after getting into a fight with a colleague at one of his jobs, Tatsuya had gotten fired, his offer of attending the necessary vocational training was revoked, and he’d been blacklisted throughout the region. Short of moving, then, there would be little means for him to get a decent job within his field.

That had been seven years ago.

Since then, the now 27-year-old Akina and her 29-year-old husband were living out of a ratty little studio apartment with few prospects before them. The only way to make ends meet had been for both to work as many part-time gigs as they could, given that neither had degrees, vocational training, or consistent employment histories to justify hiring them full time.

In that time, the only thing Tatsuya had maintained from his younger, more confident days was his musculature – he trained often at the park to stay in shape and to channel his anger issues – and his libido.

Other than that, nothing. No ambition, no dreams, no hopes.

Hell, she doubted he even loved her anymore the way he had when they were younger. Back then, he’d practically invade her house every day to fuck her silly, taking pleasure in dominating her and even making her scream. These days, that passion was long gone and whenever they did have sex, it was just to scratch a proverbial itch.

Tatsuya’s lack of a decent response, then, was little surprise to her – though a never-ending source of disappointment in both him and herself.

“…fine. I’ll deal with it myself, I guess,” she grumped aloud as she continued making dinner – gods knew Tatsuya would never lift a finger to do “women’s” work, after all.

Her husband didn’t say a word in response to her passive-aggression, further annoying her. Still, she didn’t give it much more thought – finding a way to make ends meet was far more pressing. In her mind, she ran through the possibilities – could she ask for more shifts? Unlikely, given that she was already stretched pretty thin as it was. Asking the bank for a loan extension was also out of the question – they were among the fiercest creditors demanding repayment.

She didn’t exactly have social contacts to rely on, either – all of her colleagues were in similar positions of poverty and her bosses didn’t like her well enough to warrant asking them for that amount of cash. At least, not without expecting something in return, and whatever her lot in life, Akina refused to whore herself out.

Which only really left one option. An option she really didn’t want to consider given their strained relationship. Hell, the last time they’d spoken had been years ago – right after the civil wedding was over and they gave her perfunctory congratulations before leaving.

She’d have to ask her parents.

Akina never told Tatsuya what her plan was.

Not only would he not care, but he’d also made it clear at the beginning of their marriage that he wanted nothing to do with her parents given their treatment of him. At the time, she’d agreed because of how hurt she’d felt over the disdain and disgust they’d expressed at her choice in romantic partner. They’d treated her like a lost child making reckless, foolish decisions and that had galled her.

Time had proven her a fool.

As her bus stopped at the familiar stop, she felt a wave of nostalgia sweep over her as she gazed around at her old neighborhood. It looked just as it did back in high school – hell, it might as well have been ripped right out of her memories!

The two-story homes, the residential walls, the clean streets…she even spied students wearing familiar uniforms walking home from school. A few of the students gawked at her, which helped boost her self-confidence a bit. Despite the miserable conditions she and her husband endured, she’d still managed to keep her bombshell looks. It was something of a double-edged sword, however, as it also made her a common target for harassment from customers, colleagues, and even management.

It was a major reason she could never stick around at a part-time gig for too long.

However, Akina would’ve been lying to herself if she didn’t concede that the appreciative looks she received didn’t help her feel more secure in her feminine appeal. Tatsuya certainly didn’t show it anymore with any regularity!

Thus, with a slightly more confident bounce in her step, she made her way down the road towards her childhood home, stopping in front of its gate.

And immediately her eyes drifted over to the neighboring house.

Kouta’s home.

The windows between her room and Kouta’s had always been remarkably close by, all things considered. Close enough, in fact, that they could easily chat with each other without having to shout due to distance. In her youth, that closeness had been a pillar of her life – a source of stability and comfort.

Until she’d chosen Tatsuya. Then, that window became closed. Distant. An echo of a potential life long gone.

She’d lost contact with Kouta after graduation. Not immediately, of course – Kouta had always been kind enough to accept her decision to be with Tatsuya even if he didn’t approve of it and envied it himself. The problem was that he’d eventually agreed to going overseas on a transfer program and, perhaps karmically, her phone was stolen shortly after – including all of his contact information.

And his family had long refused to associate with her anymore, so asking them, or his friends, was impossible.

She missed him.

The realization hit her like a sack of bricks. Even as she stood there, in front of her own childhood home – ready to beg her parents for money – the simple absence of Kouta from her life hurt her more than any other aspect of her shitty circumstances. Perhaps if he hadn’t disappeared from her life, things might’ve been different. Maybe he could’ve helped her or Tatsuya get their lives in order. Maybe he could’ve helped intercede with her family or his own.

Maybe he would’ve tried again…

She hit the brakes on that line of thought immediately. She’d made her choice. She’d rejected him. Even knowing what Tatsuya was like, she’d still chosen him over Kouta.

It was time to move on.

Taking a deep breath, Akina pressed the intercom next to the front gate and waited for someone to pick up. It took a few seconds, but then a familiar voice she hadn’t heard in years rang out.

“Yes?”

Akina closed her eyes and gathered her willpower before answering. “It’s me.”

There was a long pause and, for a moment, Akina wondered if perhaps – after years of not speaking to each other – her own mother had forgotten what she sounded like.

“…Akina.”

Well, it seemed not. “Can we talk?”

Another pause.

“Is…he there with you?”

Akina had to suppress a tolerant smile at the fact that, even after all these years, her parents never got around to getting a video intercom. She also didn’t need her mom to elaborate as to who she was talking about.

“No.”

There was a soft click as the line went dead and, again for a moment, she wondered if she was being dismissed out of hand. And then the gate buzzed to indicate it’d been opened and Akina, feeling relief, was almost late on the uptake and managed to get in before the buzzer ended.

There was, maybe, just about 5 meters between the gate and the front door, and yet despite taking only a few seconds to cross, it seemed to Akina like the longest distance in her life. Almost as though she were marching to death row.

And then, upon reaching the door, it opened before she was able to knock, her mother – looking much the same as before, but older – standing there.

Akina had always known she’d inherited her looks from her mother, and if her mom’s current appearance was anything to go by, she had a bright future ahead of her if she took care of herself.

Which, of course, wasn’t going to be possible while in a state of poverty.

For a moment, though, mother and daughter stared at each other in silence at the front door, as though the older woman was debating whether to just chase her away after all. As she turned away, she evidently made her choice.

“Come in.”

Years ago, such a lack of warmth in her mother’s voice would’ve made Akina wince or her heart ache. However, all of her parents’ disappointment had already been properly conveyed a thousand times over, so there was little they could now do or say to her that hadn’t already been said or done.

Steeling her expression, Akina nodded in polite thanks.

“Thank you,” she replied as she entered her childhood home, making sure to take off her shoes at the entrance.

As she did, she was surprised to see an unfamiliar pair of men’s shoes at among the others. They were too big to be her father’s – at least, insofar as her memory recalled – and given her father’s shoes’ presence, it didn’t seem like it belonged to some stranger with whom her mother would be having an affair.

Which meant they had a visitor.

“I can come back if you’re busy,” she said, nodding at the shoes. Her mother briefly turned around to see what she was motioning at.

“No need,” she replied simply. “Come. Your father’s in the living room.”

A living room. Goodness – how long ago had it been since the last time Akina had lived in a place with a living room? Her current studio apartment, shared with Tatsuya, essentially consisted of a sleeping/eating/living area, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. That was it. It wasn’t even technically meant for a married couple, but rather for low-income singles and students.

As they approached the living room, Akina could hear her father’s laughter mixed in with that of another person’s – a man, as the shoes had suggested. She diligently followed her mother to the living room’s entrance and there froze as two things hit her simultaneously.

The first was a horribly familiar voice.

“Honestly, uncle, I really recommend you and auntie go there for your next trip! You’ll love it!”

The second was a horribly familiar person. The very last person she expected to see coming here.

Her past made manifest.

“Seriously, the local food is to die…for…”

The man sitting on her parents’ couch, clearly regaling her father with stories, drifted off as his eyes met hers and recognition flashed through both of them.

“…Akina?”

Kouta.

“…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Kouta snorted as they sat opposite each other in her parents’ living room. Her parents had decided to give them time to “catch up” while they went out for “groceries.” It was a lame excuse and they knew it, but Akina suspected they’d decided to leap at the opportunity to finally, possibly get the son-in-law they’d always dreamed of.

A horrible part of her sort of hoped for the same.

“Auntie invited me over when she saw me coming back from a run,” he explained – which certainly explained why he had a fresh look about him. He’d probably taken a shower less than an hour ago.

A long pause descended between them as the former childhood friends regarded each other. In Kouta’s eyes, Akina could see a flurry of suppressed emotions – just as she imagined he might see the same in hers.

“When’d you get back from overseas?” she asked, hoping to put an end to the uncomfortable silence.

“Three years ago.”

That hit her in the gut hard. Her childhood friend had been in the country for three years and never once reached out to her! That hurt more than she cared to admit. She’d certainly thought their bond would’ve been stronger.

“I see.”

The words were bit out with clear bitterness, yet in his expression she could find no regret, no shame. He’d simply answered her question.

“You married him,” he said simply. “I didn’t want to cause a fight.”

Akina had to amid that made sense. Tatsuya loathed Kouta. Not because of anything her friend had done – simply because Tatsuya was a jealous beast who hated the idea of another man “muscling in on his territory.” And since she and Kouta had shared a very close friendship, Tatsuya had taken every opportunity to rub his relationship with Akina in Kouta’s face.

Thus, Kouta keeping his distance actually made sense, in hindsight.

“So…you’re working now?”

He nodded in response. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask…?”

“Banker,” he replied shortly. “Asset management, mostly.”

Good grief – that was about as opposite from her situation as one could be. Whereas her deadbeat husband and herself bounced from job to job, here was her childhood friend working as a money manager for people a lot wealthier than them.

The sheer disparity in socioeconomic situation was enough to make her want to cry and run away.

But she held her ground nonetheless because, like it or not, she still had to ask her parents for money. That was non-negotiable – the banks would certainly not wait for her to gather her nerve again.

“Actually, I handle your parents’ assets,” he added leaning back into the couch and looking around the room. “They hired me after my parents recommended me.”

Akina blinked and stared at him in confusion. “Why would they need an asset manager?” she asked. That wasn’t the kind of service middle class families like her own would need.

“I gave them a few tips and contacts and it netted your dad a bit of money, so they needed someone to manage and grow it,” he replied. “Your parents are doing pretty good, to be honest. They just bought a vacation home in Indonesia.”

…while their daughter and only child was practically starving and could barely afford healthcare in turn.

“…How nice.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as she felt his gaze rake over her, and for a moment Akina thought he might actually make a move.

And just as quickly, her expectations were dashed.

“…They’re not going to lend you the money.”

Akina’s gaze shot up to meet his. “What?”

He returned her outraged look of surprise with a steely gaze of his own. “They won’t lend you the money you need, Akina.”

“W-What do you know?!” she exclaimed, shooting up to her feet. “How dare you!”

“I’m their banker,” he replied flatly. “Even if they say they’ll think about it, the decision will ultimately be consulted with me, and I’ll tell them the truth – that it’s a bad investment.”

Akina stared at her old childhood friend like it was the first time she’d ever seen him in her life. Who was this person sitting before her, coldly asserting that he was going to cut her off from the only lifeline she still had left? Where was the boy who’d promised to stand by her side and hear her out when her workaholic parents weren’t willing to?

“Your husband is a liability, Akina,” he continued, either unaware or uncaring of the emotional toll he was inflicting on her. “Your parents talk about you and your situation a lot, and as their banker, I had my firm look into you and your husband to make sure you wouldn’t be a financial burden on them.”

He clasped his hands and brought them up to his face. “But you are. Both of you.”

“Is…Is this about what happened in high school?!” she demanded, marching up to him and grabbing him by the shirt. He offered no resistance as he stared her down.

“That was nine years ago,” he replied flatly, unmoved by the sudden act of aggression. “And if you think I’ve been pining away all this time…don’t flatter yourself.”

He raised his left hand, where she saw – much to her horror and shock – a golden band around the base of his fourth finger.

“As you can see, I’m married.”

Akina’s grip slackened as she stumbled back into her chair and stared at him – her despair clear on her face. A treacherous part of her had hoped – hoped – that perhaps Kouta was somewhere out there, still in love with her, willing to come galloping to her rescue despite what she’d done to him, despite how tainted she was.

All of those hopes came crashing down.

“W…whe…”

“About five years ago, right after I came back from college, but before we moved overseas for a while for work,” Kouta answered calmly as he straightened his shirt. “To Hiyori. We’ve even got a kid – a little girl.”

Kikuchi. Their classmate – the one Akina had always thought would be a better match for Kouta than herself.

“So…I was right…”

“If that’s what you choose to believe,” he said indifferently as he folded his hands on his lap. “Regardless, the point is that, as your parents’ banker, I cannot in good conscience recommend that they give you any money. Neither you nor your husband have a stable income, and even if they did loan you the necessary funds, it would only meet your outstanding obligations for this month. By next month, you and your husband would still be unable to make ends meet and, according to our investigation, you are likely to be evicted within two months’ time. A bad investment overall.”

Akina had no idea if Kouta was telling the truth, but the fact was that it sounded about right. She’d been keeping track of her savings and Tatsuya’s, and the rate at which they’d been dwindling was alarming – to the point where they couldn’t make ends meet this month, meaning that they’d be in default by next month without this loan.

So that made the two-month eviction timetable pretty accurate.

“We…we just need more time!” she insisted desperately. “If we could just find a steady job!”

Kouta actually sighed at her. “And who would hire you?” he asked rhetorically. “Neither of you have any qualifications for anything better than temp work at this time! You haven’t even attempted to enroll in basic certification programs!”

He crossed his arms. “Face it, Akina – at this point, you’re both each other’s dead weight.”

He was right. The more Kouta spoke, the more Akina came to realize he was right. No amount of money her parents gave her was going to dig her out of the financial and socioeconomic black hole she and Tatsuya had dug themselves into. It would just put off their descent to rock bottom just a little longer.

And the realization of all of that finally did it.

It broke her.

Her cheeks moistened as tears began to flow freely as the realization of her enormous financial burden hit her like a truck. It became exacerbated as she recognized that Tatsuya would be no help – likely having realized it already himself and having abandoned any hope of improvement. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough or realize it. Whatever the case, no help was coming from him.

Which left her only one option at this point. She grasped at her face to hide her shame and tears as her shoulders shook with each suppressed sob.

“H…Help…me…Kouta…please…!” she cried. “I…I don’t know what to do!”

Kouta said nothing as he watched her sob in her parents’ living room. He stared at her for a long time before sighing and uncrossing his arms, digging into his pocket, and retrieving a mobile phone.

“Give me a sec.”

Given that he stepped away to make the call, Akina couldn’t quite hear what he said. All she could see between her tears was Kouta calmly talking and seemingly giving orders before making another call, where she saw his expression soften considerably.

Ah. Kikuchi.

He was calling his wife.

A pang of jealousy rushed through her as she saw the loving expression on his face. When was the last time she’d seen something like that aimed at her? Even back in high school, Tatsuya had never looked at her with such tenderness. He was, in a way, incapable of it – his personality was too aggressive, pushy, and even when he smiled, it held an undercurrent of tension and danger. He seemed to believe that to be a man he had to act like a predator.

Kouta’s smile, on the other hand, was one of affection and tenderness – of love and compassion. There was no danger or pushiness in his behavior or appearance. Unlike her muscle-bound husband, Kouta was lean, like a runner, but the self-assuredness and confidence he exuded undermined any misconceptions that he would be a pushover. As he spoke over the phone, she could see him be decisive without needing to look like he was about to break someone’s face if disobeyed.

It was truly fascinating, on some level, how the two most important, non-related men in her life comprised such a diametrically opposed duality in personality, in appearance, and in overall success.

The “alpha male” had turned out to be a deadbeat layabout, while the “beta male” had become a successful banker. The “manly” man had become a bored husband who treated sex and time spent with her as a chore now, while the “unmanly” man not only had a beautiful wife, but also a kid.

The train of thought endured as he finished his calls and came back, staring her down for a moment before sighing again and rubbing his forehead.

He paused. “…I can help you,” he eventually told her.

Akina’s eyes widened and she was about to jump up to hug him when he raised his hand haltingly.

“But just you.”

Akina blinked. “W-What? What do you mean?”

“Once upon a time, you were my closest friend and the love of my life, Akina,” he reminded her. “In honor of that, I’m willing to help you, and my wife agrees.”

He then poked her just beneath the clavicle. “But not him. I don’t owe that bastard anything and I don’t mind seeing him wallow in poverty!” he hissed. “And it turns out your family and mine agree on this point. So that’s our condition. If you want our help, ditch your husband.”

Akina was again surprised by the turn of events, but only momentarily. In truth, she should’ve seen this coming from the moment she found out that Kouta had been visiting her parents today.

She’d thought, naively, that her parents had left her with Kouta to reignite the sparks between them. It was only after all of this that she realized how wrong she was – it hadn’t been to spark anything, but rather to lay down an ultimatum as she hit rock bottom: either leave Tatsuya and start over or go down with him over her own stubborn pride.

Her parents didn’t have the nerve to do it themselves, so they’d outsourced it to Kouta.

“Well?”

Akina swallowed nervously. Kouta was putting her on the spot and the truth was that, despite how easy the choice was, it really wasn’t. She was loathe to leave Tatsuya – hell, she’d considered it over the years after it became obvious what a dead-end relationship theirs was, but each time she’d been about to pack her bags and walk out, her old complexes came to the fore.

Tatsuya had told her he loved her. Tatsuya had stuck by her when her family effectively cut her out of their lives. Tatsuya had married her. Tatsuya was still waiting for her back at their ratty apartment. Despite his growing ambivalence, Tatsuya was still the one lusting for her and making her feel good during sex.

Could she really walk away from him given all that?

In fairness, he was also the one responsible for her family cutting her off – him and his aggressive, pseudo-dominant attitude. His misbehavior had gotten him fired and his subsequent laziness had led to their poverty despite her best attempts at helping him work through his anger issues. His attention was increasingly less on her and more on indulging himself, and despite his physique remaining largely intact, she no longer felt the same level of attraction she once did.

“We need an answer, Akina.”

A million thoughts ran through her mind as she desperately tried to figure out what to do.

A million thoughts, but no easy answers.

Then, all at once, the thoughts stopped as she focused on one and made her choice.

It was fortunate, Akina reflected, that Mai was such a heavy sleeper.

Otherwise, it would’ve been extremely awkward for Akina to have to explain to the little girl why her parents’ bedroom was causing such “weird” noises.

Akina sighed as she stared up at the ceiling, her five-year-old charge sleeping soundly against her chest. She could clearly hear, even now, the sounds of Hiyori and Kouta having wild, passionate sex – which was, as she’d come to learn, par for the course for Thursday Date Night – just two rooms over.

It felt, in many ways, like divine punishment.

A year ago, after Kouta had laid down his ultimatum on behalf of her family, his own, and himself, Akina had chosen to ultimately take the deal. Within a week, she had left Tatsuya, leaving behind only signed divorce papers and a mailing address, and hadn’t looked back.

To avoid possible issues, her departure was timed to take place while he was at work.

To her great disappointment, the papers came back signed within two days. Evidently, he had chosen not to put up a fight, further cementing her belief that the Tatsuya that had once dominated her life was gone – or perhaps that had been a mirage all along.

Regardless, the decision gained her re-entry into her family home, and true to his word, Kouta had arranged for her debts to be covered so she’d have a fresh start. However, that still left her unemployed, as missing shifts to leave her husband hadn’t gone over well with her former employers.

Consequently, Hiyori had convinced Kouta to hire her as their daughter’s nanny.

And therein began her nightmare.

Mai was a wonderful little girl. She had her mother’s classical beauty and graceful disposition and her father’s warm and amiable temperament. When she’d been first introduced to Akina, the little girl had practically bounded over to her and immediately accepted her into her life, much like Kouta had when they were children. Every day, Mai wanted to be around her and play with her, even dragging her along to the park to get Akina to play with her friends!

As a live-in nanny, Akina also got to see Mai’s home life and how enviably great it was. Hiyori, it turned out, was essentially the perfect wife. Confident, skillful, loving, and present for her husband and daughter despite being a working mother. Kouta, too, made sure to keep decent hours in order to spend quality time with his family, and Akina was often treated to incredibly heart-warming family dinners and scenes of Kouta and Hiyori playing with their daughter in the living room.

It was hellish…and Akina suspected Hiyori of having planned this out, but she had no proof.

At least, not until, reaching the breaking point, she’d asked Hiyori why she’d even pushed to hire her given how present she and Kouta were for Mai.

“Because I hate you, Akina,” the beautiful woman told her simply with a smile, stunning Akina. “As grateful as I am for how great you are with Mai and how pleasant your company has been here in our home, make no mistake – I hate you for what you did to Kouta.”

“W-What I did?”

Hiyori’s smile never faded, which made the look in her eyes all the more intimidating. “After you chose to be with that sorry excuse for an anthropomorphic trash can, do you know how long it took for Kouta to even look at another woman?” she asked cheerfully. “Two years. Two years where, no matter how hard I tried to be there for him, he could not get you out of his heart. You were his world, Akina, and you shattered it almost beyond repair. I’ll never forgive that.”

“B-But then…”

“Why hire you?” Hiyori pre-empted. “Because I want you to see what you lost. What I won,” she stressed before looking over at her innocent, unaware daughter with a loving smile. “Had you been patient, or chosen to take the initiative, Mai would’ve been your daughter. This would’ve been your home,” she gestured at the house around them. “And you would’ve been me.”

Hiyori’s confession had very nearly led Akina to quit. The woman’s hatred of her was now so self-evident that every time she organized a wholesome family event, Akina couldn’t help but see the underlying taunt in her actions.

But she stayed. She endured the subtle humiliation and reproach. She endured the token pity and permission to participate in their family. Why? Because some part of her agreed that she did, indeed, deserve this. After all, that had been the main reason for no longer waiting for Kouta in the first place – that she simply wasn’t good enough for him.

And yet, even as she now lay in Mai’s bed hearing Hiyori getting sent to cloud nine by Kouta, she couldn’t get the woman’s confession out of her head. A choice – a simple choice of going for the first person who confessed to her, regardless of her own feelings, had led her down this path. It hadn’t been a matter of metaphysical forces or destiny.

It was choice.

She had chosen to give Tatsuya a chance simply because he asked first. And she had paid the price for that. Because happiness doesn’t always come from the first option – rather, it’s about waiting for the right one.

Chapter 14: Broken Friendships, Broken Dreams

Chapter Text

Azusa smiled happily as she waited for the bus to arrive. Today marked the third-month anniversary of her relationship with Tomoki and he’d promised a surprise – not that it was that hard to figure out his motives.

Unlike…him…Tomoki didn’t have a subtle bone in his body, so it hadn’t been difficult to figure out that he’d been saving up for a ring. She’d even spied him being increasingly curious regarding jewelry stores and hinting he wanted to come clean to her parents about their relationship – which they hadn’t yet done.

Azusa grimaced slightly at the thought.

She already knew that Tomoki wanted to do this properly, but there was no way he was going to get the response he wanted from her folks. As far as they were concerned, Azusa had already met the perfect potential son-in-law and was a madwoman for having broken up with him. That they had no idea regarding the complete circumstances of said break-up was a given, and she couldn’t imagine they would react positively when Tomoki revealed himself to be her boyfriend. He had, throughout their entire childhood, been the bum of the trio, after all – and as an adult hadn’t much improved in that respect insofar as her parents would be concerned.

As such, she’d tried to dissuade him from reaching out to her parents, but he seemed set. It was cute, in a way, and very earnest of him. Even if she knew all they’d get was a screaming match and a perfunctory order to get the hell out of the house.

Azusa felt a pang of guilt in that moment.

She knew, objectively, that she’d done a horrible thing to her ex. She and Tomoki could pretty it up as much as they wanted, but the sheer depth of their betrayal of over 20 years of friendship wasn’t something you just swept under the rug with a casual “we just wanted to be happy.”

After that fateful evening, she’d even tried to reach out to him and even visited his apartment to apologize properly, but found it abandoned, with only a letter cursing her to the depths of hell and full of expletives waiting for her on the kitchen table. The things he’d written there were cruel, hurtful, and full of his fury, and Azusa had to admit she’d shed a few tears as she recognized how hurt he was.

But she’d then tossed the letter away and decided to move on with her life. He would, too, she reasoned, given enough time.

The bus arrived and its door opened. She briefly checked her watch to make sure she was still on time and smiled as she realized she would meet up with Tomoki right on schedule. Getting aboard, she paid her ticket, smiled at the driver, and took a seat in the rear half of the bus, near the mid-exit. Humming a happy ditty to herself, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick update to Tomoki, who adorably replied within seconds with happy emojis and a “can’t wait to see you!!”

Yes, she’d ultimately made the right choice. She was sure of it.

The bus stopped and she glanced up from her phone – it wasn’t her stop yet. Still smiling, she put away her phone in her handbag and leaned her head against the window, watching quietly as the passengers outside boarded the bus. Little by little, the bus filed up and she even got a companion plop down into the seat next to hers, boxing her in.

She smiled at her neighbor – a dignified, older gentleman in a suit who nodded back – and settled back into her casual observation of the outside world beyond the bus window.

If things went as expected, she would go to bed tonight as Tomoki’s fiancée. Her wedding, of course, would probably be a subdued affair – she couldn’t imagine many of her friends from school or family attending once it came out that she was seeing Tomoki and had broken up with him after carrying out an affair with his best friend.

But that was fine. She was fine with sacrificing all of that if it meant being happy, and Tomoki, for all of his faults, made her happy. Made her feel wanted, fulfilled.

She hummed her ditty again and saw the gentleman next to her smile a little at her behavior, prompting a happy blush. Perhaps her happiness was really just pouring out of her at this point – it was a bit embarrassing, really!

Eventually, though, the bus reached her stop and she could even spy the nearby café where Tomoki was waiting for her. As a wonderful smile grew on her face, she turned to face the gentleman and ask him to move when she suddenly felt something sharp poke her in the side. She barely had a chance to yelp before she felt a sudden drowsiness hit her, and, before she knew it, her world turned black.

Tomoki was getting anxious.

Azusa had texted him over half an hour ago that she was on her way and, by his reckoning and the online bus timetable, she should’ve been here by now.

As it was, he was still sitting, alone, at the booth he’d reserved at the café he’d picked out, a certain box burning a hole in his jacket. He’d made sure to clean himself up appropriately for the occasion and had even asked the staff to be ready with Azusa’s favourite drink to kick things off.

But as the minutes passed, he felt his anxiety and fear grow by several orders of magnitude.

Had she figured out he was trying to propose and backed out? He didn’t think so – he’d spent considerable effort hiding his intentions from her on this matter, hoping to surprise her! Plus, given how good things were between them, he couldn’t imagine her bolting on him like this!

Maybe her bus was delayed? That was possible, he supposed, but then why hadn’t she texted him she’d be late?

What if she got into an accident? A brief spike of panic quickly had him rush to get online and find any news or tweets regarding recent vehicular incidents along her bus’s route, but found none.

What was going on?

Tomoki did his best to ignore the painful looks the staff were shooting him – clearly pitying him and believing he’d been stood up. They were wrong, of course. Azusa wouldn’t stand him up! She loved him just as much as he loved her! She’d even dumped Nao to be with him!

Still, he couldn’t deny that the longer he waited, he more pathetic he seemed, and after waiting for a full hour and a half beyond their agreed time without word from her, he somberly called for the check, paid up, and left without another word. Dark thoughts followed him home as he wondered what might’ve happened to Azusa – maybe she truly had decided to bolt on him? What if she’d figured out his intentions and had seconds thoughts about dumping Nao?

No, that wasn’t possible. Not only had that break-up been pretty definitive, courtesy of his own machinations, but neither he nor Azusa had heard or seen Nao ever since that day.

And then, the moment he set foot in his apartment, his phone rang.

Irritated by the disappointing day thus far, he fished it out and was ready to send it to voice mail when he spied the caller ID.

Azusa.

A mixture of relief and anger and anxiety hit him in that moment. Why call him now after standing him up? Was it to apologize over an unforeseen situation that held her up? Was it to apologize for dumping him like that?

Part of him screamed at him to refuse the call and wait for her at the apartment. She’d show up eventually, he was sure. Azusa wasn’t like him – she wasn’t a cruel person.

Well, except for that day’s events, he supposed.

He swallowed. The phone was still ringing.

He accepted the call and brought up the phone to his ear.

“…Azusa?”

“Long time no speak, Tomoki.”

Tomoki felt his blood run cold as he recognized the voice on the spot. That wasn’t Azusa. That was the last person he wanted to hear coming from her phone.

“N-Naoyuki…” he said, feeling a sense of deep dread forming in the pit of his stomach. “Why…why are you calling from Azusa’s phone?”

“Guess.”

Tomoki didn’t want to. The myriad scenarios that came to mind were too horrible to contemplate.

“W-What is this about, Nao?” he demanded. “Where’s Azusa?!”

“I’m surprised you have to ask. This is about consequences, Tomoki.”

“Consequences?” he parroted as he considered his appropriate course of action. Maybe if he went over to the police station and held Nao on the line, they would be able to trace the call, like they did on procedural TV shows. Or…or…

Argh! Honestly, he didn’t know what to do!

“You do not get to walk this earth and do what you did to me without suffering the consequences, Tomoki,” Naoyuki continued calmly on the other end of the line. “You don’t get to conspire with your friend’s girlfriend to stab him in the back after 20 years of friendship and get away scot-free.”

“This was never personal, Nao! Azusa was just happier with me than she ever was with you!” Tomoki insisted desperately as he paced his living room, still wracking his mind with what he should do.

“That’s rich. Never personal? You think seducing your friend’s girlfriend and then showing me a live feed of you two having sex wasn’t personal? You were always a coward, Tomoki, but at least be a man about this and admit it – you wanted to hurt me and you wanted it to be personal.”

Tomoki glowered at the floor as his free hand balled into a fist. “Fine!” he snapped. “You want the truth, Nao?! Yeah, it was personal! Ever since we were kids, it was always all about you! You got the praise! You got the approval! You got the girl of my dreams! So, yeah, I found a flaw in perfect little Naoyuki and I took advantage of it! You lost, Nao! For the first time in your life, you lost and I won!”

“…Is that what you think?”

The phone vibrated in his hand and Tomoki pulled it away to see that there was a request to turn the call into a video call. He swallowed. What did Naoyuki want to show him? There was no way Azusa would cheat on him with Nao. Absolutely no way. Tomoki had thoroughly exorcised Nao from Azusa’s body and memory in that sense. He’d made it a personal mission of his.

Steeling himself with courage and the conviction that he had nothing to fear about Azusa betraying him, he accepted the request and was treated with the absolute last thing he ever wanted to see.

An unrecognizable mess of a female body lying on the ground wearing Azusa’s clothes. The same clothes she’d taken a selfie of herself wearing and sent to him prior to today’s anniversary date.

Tomoki broke.

He didn’t even realize that he’d been screaming as he saw the motionless body in the feed until someone banged against the wall, telling him to shut up. That didn’t cause him to become quiet, but it did set him off as tears and sobs flowed beyond any possibility of self-control. His hands were shaking and his legs had given out, forcing him down to his knees. All that he could see or hear at the moment was the video feed before him. A feed of the love of his life lying dead somewhere unrecognizable, likely at the hands of her ex-boyfriend.

All because she’d chosen him.

Tomoki had once told Azusa, on the very night she agreed to break up with Naoyuki via video feed of them having sex, that he’d never regret the choice to seduce her and carry out their affair – despite lying to her about Naoyuki’s intentions and his feelings towards her.

But, in this moment, he did.

He regretted it all.

The idea of living in a world without Azusa disgusted him. She had been the shining bright light of his life – the one who unknowingly gave him the courage to persevere with his life even though he was always treated as the screwup and bum of their little childhood trio.

In all his life, she had been the one thing he’d truly ever coveted from his friend. He was fine with Naoyuki being the perfect student or perfect son or whatever. If the world wanted to treat Naoyuki like a saint, that was alright by him.

All Tomoki had wanted was Azusa. He’d told himself that if he had her, he was fine being second fiddle to his friend.

So when he’d found his shot, he’d taken it – knowing how morally repugnant his behavior was. Knowing he was taking advantage of a friendship that had helped him out in rough spots. Knowing that he was hurting a good man.

A good man he’d now turned into a monster.

The feed turned away from the broken body of Azusa and, for the first time in three months, Tomoki was treated to the sight of his now worst enemy – Naoyuki. The odd blood splatter on his face told Tomoki everything he needed to know in that moment.

“You…you killed her,” he whispered.

“No, Tomoki, you did,” Naoyuki replied flatly. “When you chose to betray me the way you two did. When you chose to be the selfish little cunts you obviously are.”

Tomoki grit his teeth in anger. “I just wanted to be happy, Nao!” he yelled. “I just wanted her to be happy with me! Was that so wrong?!”

Naoyuki stared him down unphased by his anger. “No, it wasn’t,” he answered, shocking Tomoki.

“W-What?”

“You were my friends, Tomoki. If I had known that she was sad with me and wanted to leave me, I would’ve understood. It would’ve hurt sure, but I would’ve understood. If you had feelings for her and told me, I would’ve understood and talked to her and you about it. Who knows? Maybe I would’ve agreed that you were a better fit for her. I never pretended to be perfect, no matter what you think. And you know that I always had your back in the past.”

Naoyuki turned away to look at the off-screen body. “But how did you repay me? Did you honor our friendship the way I did? No. Neither of you did – because, as I realized three months ago, you’re both cowards. Your respect for others is opportunistic, as is your loyalty to your friends,” he added, turning back to the video feed. “I realized, too late, that I was never your friend, Tomoki. You only ever became my friend to get to Azusa.”

Tomoki swallowed, unable to counter that.

“And Azusa…Azusa is not the woman she claims she is,” Naoyuki said sadly, bringing up a bloodied hand to his face. “Her promises are empty, her loyalty is just to the lay of the day. I get that now. Honestly, I guess I should be thankful. That was some bullet I dodged.”

“T-Then…why kill her?”

Naoyuki smirked at him. “I never said I did.”

Before Tomoki was able to process that, the video feed swerved to show a black sedan car with tinted windows. Tomoki heard a brief command being barked before seeing the rear passenger window recede, revealing, much to his amazement, relief, and shock, a very much alive Azusa wearing different clothes. By all appearances, she looked healthy, but asleep.

“W-What’s going on?!” he demanded.

“Didn’t you like my magic trick?” Naoyuki taunted as the video feed turned again to portray him. “It’s rather incredible what you can do with movie props these days.”

“Give Azusa back, Nao!” Tomoki yelled.

“I don’t think so,” his former best friend sneered before producing what seemed like a rather official document. “Do you know what this is?”

Tomoki glared at the screen but squinted to try and read the small print. “…no.”

Naoyuki smirked. “I’m surprised you don’t, given what you were planning to do today. This is a marriage form, Tomoki.”

Tomoki felt a pit of despair forming in his stomach as Naoyuki’s finger lowered to the signature box. “And guess whose signature this is right next to mine?”

“Bullshit,” Tomoki spat. “Bullshit! She would never marry you!”

“Not even to save you?”

Tomoki froze.

“W-What?”

“Didn’t you wonder how it was that Azusa never made it to your precious little proposal date?” Naoyuki sneered. “She certainly had every intention. She certainly got on that bus. So why didn’t she show up in the end?”

“W-What did you do, Nao?!”

The paper was gone now and Tomoki only saw Naoyuki and the crazed look in his eyes. “It’s simple: I got to her first. By the way, knock, knock!”

As soon as the words were said, Tomoki jumped as someone actually knocked at his door. Frantically, his eyes swerved from the video call to the main door and back to the call.

“W-What’s going on?!”

Naoyuki smirked. “While you and Azusa were playing house and laughing behind my back, I had three months to think, to plan, and get my revenge, Tomoki. As we speak, there are two very bad men outside your door. Go ahead, check.”

Tomoki hated the idea of indulging Naoyuki – especially given the crazed look in his eyes – but curiosity won out and he headed to the front door, where he looked through the peephole.

Indeed, just as Naoyuki had said, there were two sketchy-looking dudes wearing delivery uniforms and holding a package.

“Tell them to leave or I’m calling the police, Nao!” Tomoki threatened, causing his former best friend to chuckle.

“For what? Standing outside a door and delivering a parcel?” Naoyuki taunted. “Go ahead. I’m sure they could use a good laugh.”

Tomoki grit his teeth. He had a point – the two men outside hadn’t done anything that would merit calling the police, as far as he or they knew.

“Why are they here?!”

“First of all, to prove a point,” Naoyuki answered with a smug grin. “And secondly, to carry out my orders if you agree to my proposal.”

Tomoki glowered at his hated rival. “Like I’ll agree to anything you propose! Just give Azusa back!”

“Well, that’s definitely an option, if you don’t mind receiving her in pieces.”

The sheer casual tone in his voice made Tomoki’s blood freeze. He wasn’t joking. He really would kill Azusa.

“NO! No!” Tomoki quickly recanted. “I…I’ll listen!”

Naoyuki smirked. “I knew you would. It’s simple: I am going to frame you for battery. Those men outside will make sure that the apartment looks the part, and as I understand it, you and Azusa have been fighting a little over whether or not her parents would approve of you. As the story goes, she then left you and came running back to good, old, forgiving yours truly, and she finally accepted my proposal. With her parents’ blessing, of course.”

Tomoki felt sick. This was the plan of a madman. “That’s crazy, Nao. No one will believe I put my hands on her!”

“No? Not even when they find her blood in the apartment? Or broken items? Not even when they find her suitcase and assorted clothes gone? Not even when your neighbors testify to the occasional fights you two had?”

Tomoki had to restrain himself from throwing the phone against the ground.

“You were never very clever, Tomoki, so framing you has been remarkably easy since everyone already expects the worst of you. But, if anything, cheer up! This is your chance to shine! Prove to the world that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for your beloved!” Naoyuki crowed. “Because make no mistake – if you tell anyone about this or refuse my offer, the next video feed really will show Azusa’s broken body.”

Tomoki stared into his former best friend’s cruelty-filled gaze and shivered. This was not the same person he’d known all his life. This was a demon wearing his friend’s skin – and he was dead serious about his threats.

“You really hate us that much?”

“Immeasurably, Tomoki. And you will both bear my grudge until the day you die.”

Tomoki swallowed as he recognized the sincerity in Naoyuki’s words.

“…just, please, don’t hurt Azusa.”

Naoyuki smirked.

“Look, mommy!”

Azusa smiled as her daughter showed off her latest piece of “art,” lovingly created in the classroom. The little girl, almost six years old, dazzled her with an even bigger smile upon receiving her approval and then dashed over to the living room to eagerly await her father’s return to show it off to him as well.

Azusa hated her life.

For the past 6 years, she’d lived in a prison of her own making. Brought before Naoyuki by individuals she didn’t recognize, he’d given her a simple choice: she could either marry him and let Tomoki get framed for hitting her, or Tomoki wouldn’t see another sunrise.

The magnitude of Naoyuki’s cruelty took her aback. She’d never imagined that, underneath that decent, kind, compassionate, and hardworking personality was a monster. She’d accused him of being such to his face, even tried to defy him, and he’d slapped her in response.

“Whatever I am, you made me, Azusa.”

It took a minute for Azusa to fully understand what he’d meant, and upon realizing what he was getting at, she’d thrown up.

It wasn’t that Naoyuki had always been a monster. He hadn’t been lying to her all these years. Her actions and Tomoki’s had simply driven him over the edge into insanity. Driven him to be a person willing to get in bed with terrible people and cause immeasurable pain to others with none of the guilt he would’ve felt before the vicious betrayal he’d experienced at her hands.

She had created the monster.

The worst part was that he never justified himself. He never claimed the moral high ground. Not once in the six years of their sham marriage did he pretend to be a good person when around her. Whenever she’d ask about his work, as he demanded that she play her role of caring, loving wife, he’d regale her with stories of how he’d helped his employers ruin someone’s life. Never as a brag of his superiority – merely, she suspected, to torment her with the many sins he was committing so she would never feel clean again.

He did not love her, just as much as she did not love him. That was patently clear. He hadn’t married her out of love, but out of revenge. So long as she played the loyal wife, slept with him at his request, and cared for his children, he promised to keep Tomoki alive as he rotted away in prison under a 13-year sentence. But there was no love there, no gentleness to his touch other than when he pretended to be a loving husband before the world.

Instead, Naoyuki’s affections these days were reserved solely for his daughter, Mia. A child she’d hated having to carry and had prayed silently would never come to term. But she had – perhaps because the universe loathed her just as much as her deranged husband did. And once Mia was born, Azusa found she could not bring herself to hate her beautiful daughter – for she had done no wrong. She was innocent in this horrible game between her parents.

So, she focused on being a good mother to Mia, hoping that one day, she would see her father for the monster he was. Nothing would devastate Naoyuki more, after all.

But given the smirks Naoyuki shot her occasionally, she had a sinking feeling he already knew what she was thinking and her dearest wish would not happen. Instead, all she saw was that her daughter’s adoration of her father only grew as he doted on her and slowly indoctrinated her to be more like him. Even as Azusa could do nothing but watch while her lover’s life hung in the balance.

Once upon a time, she had dreamed of a better life for herself, Naoyuki, and Tomoki. She had dreamed of them hanging out as they always had as children in blooming flower fields, laughing and poking fun at each other. When she’d found love with Tomoki, she’d hoped Naoyuki would one day forgive them and come back to them.

Such hopes were dead now, and that flower field of her dreams was now a wasteland.

Azusa hated her life.

Chapter 15: Affirmation

Chapter Text

Yuuto grabbed his head as the noises began again next door.

As per usual, the entirely-too-sexually-active couple was going at it with wild abandon, seemingly uncaring of the fact that the walls in the apartment complex were practically paper thin. For someone like Yuuto, in the household he’d grown up in, it was just another blow to his already unraveling psyche.

He couldn’t even lie in his own bed, for crying out loud, because the couple’s unceasing banging made it shake!

So, here he was once more, on the ground, in the fetal position, waiting for the two to get tired and go to sleep before he could do the same. Based on the foreplay and the passionate pre-sex discussion, though, he had a rough idea that this time would last a while longer.

Or, it would’ve, if he didn’t immediately thereafter hear someone slamming what sounded like a fist on the front door.

For a moment, Yuuto panicked – what had he done that merited such violence? Why was someone trying to bring down his door?!

“Hold on, I think someone’s at the door!”

And that’s when he realized that it wasn’t his front door someone was banging on – it was the neighbors’!

Curious, Yuuto made his way out to the front of his tiny, studio apartment and peeked out the door, immediately treated to the sight and sound of his neighbor’s boyfriend trying – unsuccessfully – to intimidate a much larger man.

“…don’t fucking care what time it is, mind your own fucking business!”

The giant of a man stared down the boyfriend with a glower that would’ve made Yuuto piss his pants on the spot. The boyfriend didn’t seem that much farther away either, though.

The giant raised a finger before the boyfriend’s face and growled. “Listen, asshole, ‘cause I won’t repeat myself again – it’s too fucking late at night for you to be swinging that limp dick around! Especially with the walls here being thin! So knock it the fuck off, or take your booty call to the nearest hotel, to your place, but let decent people sleep!”

The boyfriend had taken a few steps back into his girlfriend’s apartment, even swallowing nervously, but it was clear that he was aware of his girl’s presence and wasn’t as willing to back down.

“Or…” he swallowed again. “Or what?”

The giant glowered at him. “Or else I make your girl’s life here a living hell until she feels the need to move,” he snarled. “And believe me, I’m not the only tenant who would be more than happy to see her go.”

The boyfriend seemed about to say something, but Yuuto could only hear feverish whispering before he clicked his tongue and slammed the door in the giant’s face. The giant snorted and looked about ready to go back to his own apartment – Yuuto hadn’t even known such a person lived here! – when he caught sight of Yuuto.

Squeaking in surprise, Yuuto shut the door immediately and scampered back to his bed, silently glad for the peace and quiet, but fearful now that he’d gotten the giant’s attention. Would he come here? Reprimand him for peeking?

For almost an hour, Yuuto waited with bated breath for the inevitable knock…but none materialized. Even after he fell asleep – the mental exhaustion taking its toll – the knock never came.

Even the next day – a weekend, fortunately – saw no sign of the giant.

It wasn’t until two days after that, on Monday, that the giant appeared again.

Yuuto walked home despondently as he spent another torturous day in the same class as Honda-san and Aizawa-san. Apparently, Honda must’ve told Aizawa about their conversation because neither girl so much as looked at him unless it was with a disgusted look. Said looks weighed even deeper on his mind as he pondered whether perhaps Honda had been right – perhaps he’d treasured the notion of sex so much that he failed to realize that he was pushing his ideals on her.

As tears began to flow again, he rounded the entrance to his building complex and was heading over to the elevator when he heard the familiar baritone.

“Rough day, kiddo?”

Yuuto started in surprise before looking over and, quite shockingly, saw the giant tending to the flowerbed at the front of the building. The watering can looked positively tiny in his hands, as did the trowel, and yet as Yuuto watched him care for the flowerbed, he could see the amazing softness and gentle touch he gave his work.

“I…I…”

“You’re the kid from 5E, right?” the giant rumbled as he continued his work.

“Y-Yes, sir…”

The giant chuckled, which somehow sounded intimidating despite the amused look on his face. The man paused at that point and straightened up to his full height.

He was, by Yuuto’s reckoning, easily 2 meters tall, and the shirt he had on seemed to be having a hard time stretching over his bulky, muscular frame. Even his legs seemed to be pure muscle, being about as thick as Yuuto’s head!

And yet, looking upon his face, Yuuto saw no danger. The giant had an easygoing smile and a complete lack of tension that made him feel somewhat safe around him. Obviously, the man could clearly crush him with barely a thought, but the generally disposition of him made him feel somewhat at ease.

“Sir?” the giant repeated with a wry grin. “I must look pretty old.”

Yuuto immediately bowed apologetically. “I…I’m sorry!” he quickly said. “I didn’t mean to be rude!”

The giant laughed boisterously at him before giving him a surprisingly gentle pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” he said with a smile. “I suppose being 35 is pretty old by a high schooler’s standard these days, yeah?”

35?! Holy crap! Yuuto would’ve guessed early 40’s, minimum!

The giant smiled at him before extending a hand. “I’m Maeda Naotsugu,” he said pleasantly. “Call me Nao.”

Yuuto was stunned by the introduction – instead of a bow, he’d just extended his hand like a foreigner! And then he’d already offered Yuuto the right to use a nickname of his personal name!

“I…”

The giant grinned and grasped at Yuuto’s hand and shook it firmly. “Come on, already! Loosen up! Here, have a drink with me – nothing alcoholic, I promise!”

Before Yuuto could really formulate a thought, much less a word, he’d been dragged over to the bench outside the building entrance and, much to Yuuto’s surprise, he got an incredible introduction into Maeda Naotsugu.

For one, the other tenants who arrived all seemed to genuinely like the giant, greeting him pleasantly and warmly, which Maeda returned with a smile and an equally friendly greeting. He spoke to Yuuto about any number of subjects – never touching on Yuuto’s own problems, but instead about his own hobbies, like gardening, and how great the people around here were.

“A...Are you not from the city, Maeda-san?”

“Nao,” the giant corrected him with a smile before shrugging. “Not really. My family’s all about farming deep in the countryside. First kid to make it out here,” he added. “My old man used to say I was afflicted with wanderlust. Figures he’d be right.”

“Wanderlust, Mae—Nao?” he quickly corrected upon the giant’s sidelong look.

Maeda sighed before pointing in what seemed like a random direction. “If you go about fifteen minutes that way, you’ll hit the oceanside. Did you know that?”

Well, Yuuto had known that the city was by the ocean, sure, he but hadn’t known exactly where or how far the actual beachfront was.

“N-No.”

“Most people around here don’t,” Maeda observed. “It’s not of particular interest to a lot of city-folks, actually, ‘cause they’ve always had it nearby. But for a country bumpkin like me, I always make sure to know exactly where it is.”

“…why’s that?”

Maeda was silent for a moment, making Yuuto think he might’ve hit a landmine, but before he could apologize effusively, Maeda leaned back and stared up at the sky.

“A lot of people look at the ocean and you know what they see?” he asked rhetorically, though Yuuto shook his head anyway. “A barrier. The end of their world. Sure, they might go beyond for a visit, something for the old photo album…”

Who the hell has a photo album in this day and age?

“…but to me, it’s never been the end. It’s the start, kiddo.”

“Of what?”

Maeda turned to grin at him. “Of the world, of course!”

Huh.

That odd conversation was the start of the most unusual friendship Yuuto had ever experienced in his life.

Every day, after school, Maeda would be there at the flowerbed, watering the plants and caring for them. And, every day, Yuuto would stop by and they’d chat.

The two of them made for an odd pair, especially since Yuuto couldn’t admit to sharing many of Maeda’s interests. It didn’t seem to bother the giant, though, who nonetheless treated Yuuto’s own interests with respect and gave them due attention.

Eventually, Yuuto had even grown comfortable enough to invite Maeda for a soft drink at his apartment, which prompted a spontaneous cleaning event when Maeda – outraged by the messy interior – insisted on helping him clean up and even gave him some tips.

Every week since, Maeda made sure to stop by at least once to see how he was doing and share a soft drink while chatting about whatever came to their minds.

Yuuto wouldn’t have believed it in the past, but the presence of a supportive male friend really helped him get over his funk. These days, he found himself paying Honda and Aizawa less and less attention – even his brothers were increasingly far from his mind despite the fact that Yuuto and his older brother Itsuki shared a school building.

Eventually, though, the topic of his move to the building came up on one of their weekly hangouts.

“So, kiddo…”

Yuuto looked over from the fridge. “Yeah?”

“Stop me if it’s too personal, but do you mind if I ask why you’re here?”

Yuuto froze for a second before sighing heavily and shutting the door to the fridge.

“Hey, like I said, if it’s too personal, man…”

“No,” Yuuto quickly interrupted. “No, it’s…it’s okay. Honestly, I figured you’d bring that up sooner, so I was kinda ready for that question to drop at some point.”

Nao shrugged massively. “Didn’t want to pressure.”

Yuuto felt touched. Despite his intimidating looks and bulk, Nao was truly a stand-up guy. He could’ve easily intimidated the rest of the building to do his bidding, but Yuuto had seen him more than a few times helping the elderly carry their groceries and once even helped a pregnant couple get to the ground floor as quickly as possible when the power went out – holding the poor woman in a princess carry while he bounded as quickly, but gently as he could while the woman’s husband rushed ahead.

“I mean, it’s a sucky story, so are you sure…?”

Nao extended a fist. “Always, kiddo.”

Yuuto smiled as he bumped fists with his friend and sat in his desk chair opposite Nao, who was sitting on the bed, listening attentively. After a brief pause, a deep breath, and a few false starts, Yuuto found the words flowed out of him almost unbidden.

He told Nao about his messed up home life – how he was the middle child in a trio of boys where the oldest was handsome, cool, and intelligent; while his younger brother was taller, assertive, and a playboy. By contrast, Yuuto had always been the odd one out – shorter than either of his brothers, an introvert, and while he was a good student, he was nowhere near the top of his grade. Moreover, he wasn’t even athletic, so he came off as quite average in every department compared to his siblings.

And then Yuuto told him about what happened on the night his brothers seduced his classmates. How his brothers had basically pretended he didn’t exist to hit on the two girls and slept with them that very night, then again on several more occasions, culminating with the time they skipped school to go to a water park, then switched partners.

He told Nao about how the worst of it was that his room was sandwiched between his brothers’, so he got to hear everything from both sides each time – never a modicum of consideration for their younger/older sibling. Always made to feel unwelcome in his own house for intruding on his brothers’ girlfriends in compromising positions. And his parents? Absent as always, easily swayed to let their middle child move out and never once questioning why.

By the end of it, Yuuto had to admit that he felt a weight lift off his chest and he even let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t even realized how much the whole issue had weighed on his mind up until that point.

And yet, when he saw Nao’s face, all he saw was irritation.

“Nao?”

The giant blinked quickly and shook his head quite suddenly, as though he’d been daydreaming. He quickly recovered, though, and palmed his face.

“Good god, kiddo…” the giant said. “That’s some fucked up home you come from.”

Was it?

“I...I mean, plenty of kids live alone…”

“Okay, that bullshit aside,” Nao quickly interrupted, raising a big, meaty hand to stop him. “I meant those assholes you share blood with.”

“My…my brothers?”

“They ain’t your brothers, kiddo,” Nao corrected him. “Family doesn’t stab each other in the back like that! They got each other’s backs! I might’ve left home, but if one of my brothers called me for help or I saw they were in trouble, I’d drop everything to bail them out!”

Nao got up and towered over Yuuto – and, perhaps over a month ago, he might’ve felt intimidated by the sight, but not anymore. Instead, he let Nao poke him roughly in the forehead.

“Those assholes just shared a house with you, you hear me? They didn’t have your back, so they aren’t your brothers. You don’t owe them shit,” he continued.

“T…Thanks, man.”

He raised a halting finger. “Ah, I ain’t done, though,” he quickly added. “’Cause, I gotta say, but you fucked up with those girls.”

“I…I know…I shouldn’t have been a coward and all that…”

“That’s not what I mean,” Nao countered.

“Eh?”

“The problem ain’t that you didn’t shoot your shit – that shit happens all the time to everyone, but life moves on. The problem was that you put them on a pedestal without their consent.”

Yuuto blinked at his friend in confusion. “I…I don’t understand.”

Nao nodded sagely. “I know, that’s why I’m telling you,” he said in return before taking a moment to think before continuing. “Kiddo…you see sex as…how should I put this…you see sex as the wrapping bow on a present. Like the final touch to something more important – the gift. Am I wrong?”

“I…uh…what’s the gift in this metaphor?”

“A relationship.”

Yuuto stared. “I…huh.”

“Exactly. See, for you, sex is something you do as a way of confirming a relationship – a way to cement what’s already been going good. You feel me?”

“I…think so.”

“But here’s the thing – not everyone’s like that,” Nao told him as he sat back down on the bed. “Some people, like your brothers, treat sex like it’s a fucking competition – who got laid more? Who fucked the hottest chick? Who managed to make their partner orgasm like a porn star? That’s all they care about because that’s what they think of sex,” he then pointed at Yuuto. “And so the reason that house was unbearable for you is because that’s not your jam.”

Yuuto nodded slowly.

“And those girls…they didn’t know what they thought about sex until they got some,” Nao added. “But they were clearly interested. Otherwise, ain’t no way some groping action or sweet words said once in their ears would’ve gotten rushing to the nearest bed. Women aren’t all ready to drop panties at the slightest provocation, man. They got standards, too.”

Nao leaned forward, steepling his hands before his face. “But the problem was that you imposed on them your ideals about sex. You used your own beliefs as a scale to determine their sex-seeking interest and when that blew up in your face, you got depressed and angry because they didn’t meet your standards. But that’s not on them, bro.”

Yuuto stared at his friend blankly. “Are…are you saying this is all my fault?”

“No,” Nao corrected him quickly. “At least, not most of it. Your brothers were assholes. Your parents are shit parents for not realizing the kind of douchebag kids they got, either. And, yeah, those girls could’ve had a bit more tact and class about being in someone else’s fucking house – it ain’t like it’s your brothers’ house, it’s your family’s, meaning you have a right to peace and quiet in your own damn home.”

He then gestured at Yuuto. “But you do own some of that blame, kiddo – though only the parts where you got hurt. If you hadn’t pushed your beliefs on those girls, them hooking up with your brothers would’ve been disappointing, sure, but no biggie. It only hurts as much as it does…”

“I’m not hurting anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” Nao replied flatly. “I can see it in your eyes every day you come back to the building. It might not hurt as much as it did, but it still hurts.”

Yuuto stayed stubbornly quiet, though he felt mildly infuriated by the fact that he couldn’t disprove Nao’s assertion.

“It only hurts as much as it does because some part of you still hopes they’d ‘see the light,’ as it were, and realize your brothers are massive douchebags. Newsflash, kiddo – they probably know and don’t care.”

When Nao repeated what he’d intended to say, Yuuto grit his teeth and balled his fists on his thighs. He hadn’t expected a lecture from his friend. He’d expected commiseration and fraternal bonding. Instead, he felt an angry ball forming in his gut, wishing for an excuse to lash out.

“And because they don’t care, they ain’t worth your time.”

Yuuto’s head snapped up at that, his wide, surprised eyes meeting Nao’s steady, stern, and honest gaze.

“W-What?”

Nao held his stare impassively. “Your beliefs aren’t shit, Yuu,” the giant assured him. “It’s not wrong to feel like sex should be precious. So I ain’t saying you should become like your brothers – if anything, fuck those assholes for turning their back on family! – I’m saying you should stick to your principles and find someone who’ll appreciate them just the way they are.”

Yuuto never even felt his mouth open as he stared at his friend in utter shock. He’d half expected Nao to go down that very same route – to tell Yuuto he had to man up, be an alpha, and take girls home like it was going out of style. Which, of course, would’ve been impossible for him because that’s not what he wanted – nor did he have the confidence to do so.

Instead, Nao had validated him. Told him he wasn’t wrong for being the way he was. Just to not impose himself upon others.

He never even realized he’d started crying until Nao held out a napkin.

“You do you, kiddo,” Nao told him sympathetically as he watched Yuuto bawl his eyes out. “You might have a few issues to iron out, but you’re a good person just the way you are.”

0332 – Kido, Yuuto.

Yuuto fist pumped in silent victory as he walked away from the scoreboard, pleased with his results.

A year ago, he would’ve never dreamed to have made it to the top 5 of his class, and yet here he was now.

Second place.

Yuuto had never considered himself to be as intelligent as his older brother. Hell, most of the adults in his life prior to his move to his own studio apartment had made the unfavorable comparison between the siblings.

But now, a year later, there was talk that he would dethrone Honda for the valedictorian’s spot.

He could see the anxiety in her eyes, in fact, as they once again shared a classroom for their final year. Even Aizawa, his once-comrade in the mediocre ranks, seemed surprised by his sudden ascent up the scoreboard.

Not that it was that sudden – over 8 months of intensive tutoring and hitting the books with a passion had simply paid off. He’d managed to pull himself up to 15^th by the end of his junior year and was now fairly set on graduating among the top 3.

Once upon a time, he might’ve even chosen to go after Honda’s prized rank, but no longer.

And he owed that restraint to Nao.

After that heart to heart over a year ago, Nao had made up his mind to help Yuuto work through his issues and get his life back together. The giant helped him with his studies where he could and roped in friends where he couldn’t. He even insisted on taking Yuuto out for an early morning jog, which frankly had felt like torture for the first few months before he got a hold of it. And, to top it off, Nao made sure to help Yuuto work through his social anxieties by coaching him and slowly introducing him to the other tenants – even helping him make small talk!

And never once did Nao insist on pushing him beyond his boundaries.

“I ain’t trying to replace you with a new you, kiddo. I just want you to be the best version of who you already are.”

Nao’s words rang like a cathedral bell in Yuuto’s mind, acting as a sort of rallying cry for whenever he felt depressed or discouraged. He wasn’t becoming his brothers – he was surpassing them. He wasn’t moping over anyone – he was improving himself while staying true to himself!

All of which he was supremely thankful to Nao for…

…which is why it sucked that, six months ago, Nao had decided to move out of the country.

“What?”

“You heard me, kiddo. I’m hitting the road in a couple of weeks.”

“B…But, why?!”

“I told you once, remember? The ocean’s not a barrier to me. It’s the start of the world! And I want to see it all!”

For a while, Yuuto had been torn between depression and convincing his friend to stay, before thinking better of it. There was no convincing Nao once his mind was set, and he’d spoken so often about his dream to see the world that Yuuto couldn’t abide by the idea of holding his friend back.

So, off Nao had gone – leaving Yuuto behind with just a piece of paper with his email and a promise to come back to see him sometime.

“Good morning, Kido-san!”

“Good morning, Hasegawa-san!”

Yuuto smiled as the young mother from the third floor walked past him with her little daughter in hand. With Nao gone, there was no one to take care of the flowerbed, so, in his friend’s stead, Yuuto had decided to take on the tasks his friend had once shouldered at the building.

“Good morning, Kido-kun!”

Yuuto smiled as he saw the elderly man from the second floor approach with what seemed like a bag of groceries in his shaking hands. He quickly set aside his gardening gear and walked over.

“Good morning, Kukichi-san! Let me help you with that!”

“Ah, such a good boy you are! Little Nao would’ve been so proud of the man you’ve become!”

Yuuto smiled brilliantly at the praise as he helped his fellow tenant to his home and then went back to gardening after exchanging some pleasantries with Kukichi’s similarly elderly wife, who insisted on setting him up with her lovely granddaughter. It beggared belief to think that, just over a year ago, he had come to this building a psychological wreck, having been all but chased out of his home by his sex hound siblings and their girlfriends’ wild, inappropriate romps.

Over time, though, he’d seen how Nao had been right all along. There was no competition to be had here. No need to prove himself to anyone. And if he was the only one not getting laid at home, who cared? Rather than focusing on the pointless exercise of getting one’s V-card metaphorically punched, it was, as Nao insisted, better to cultivate yourself to be a better person instead.

And if, one day, the girl for him appeared…

Well, what happens then, happens, right?

Chapter 16: Noblesse Oblige

Chapter Text

“Good morning, class!”

Kouta barely paid his homeroom teacher any attention as the man grasped the edges of his podium and smiled at his students. Unlike his teacher, Kouta felt no joy these days, having been tormented over and over again by his bully, Baba Tetsuo, regarding his relationship with Kouta’s beloved childhood friend, Sakuraba Ayaka.

It’d all began months ago, after Tetsuo managed to hound Ayaka into agreeing to a date, which had rather alarmingly progressed to a carnal relationship that Tetsuo had gleefully used to torment him further with. And, to make things worse, Makiko, a kind senpai who’d listened to him, had grown distant as well.

She probably hadn’t realized it yet, but Kouta had spied Tetsuo leaving the area once, which had helped tell him everything he needed to know about Makiko and Ayaka.

He was alone.

Alone in his misery.

The sudden sound of gasps of astonishment and excitement broke him from his despair-fueled misery and he turned his gaze to the front, where the arguably prettiest girl he’d ever seen stood with a radiant smile gracing her beautiful and exotic features.

“Everyone, say hello to Arias Maria-san!”

Goddess.

That’s what came to Kouta’s mind as he looked upon the girl at the front. She was, as her name suggested, most definitely foreign, and yet despite not conforming to most Japanese standards of beauty, she was nonetheless a stunner! Between the light, tanned skin that looked natural and well-cared for (compared to some gyaru fashionistas, for example), the clear, light-green eyes; naturally blonde hair, and curvy figure, she was about as far away from the typical yamato nadeshiko as one could get, and yet Kouta was certain not a single male eye wasn’t fixated upon her.

“Thank you, everyone, for your kind reception!” Maria greeted the class with a radiant smile as she bowed just enough to be polite and spoke in lightly accented Japanese. “Please, treat me well!”

Normally, a transfer student’s introduction would’ve immediately ended at that point, but the sight of a foreign transfer student at their school was such a novelty that the teacher, who seemed equally fascinated by her, allowed the class to ask her all manner of questions.

“Ah, no, I’m not European. I’m Latin American actually.”

“Well, it took me about eight months to be able to speak this good…did I say that right? Oh, I’m sorry!”

“Hmm…I would say…ice cream and archery, I guess?”

“Oh my! I’d rather not say…”

That last one, regarding whether she was single or taken, probably garnered the most excitement among the boys and some of the girls. Her demure response, in turn, also seemed to get everyone’s engines revving, so to speak. Even Kouta was immediately charmed by her mannerisms and beautiful eyes.

Naturally, because of this positive reception, everyone wanted to be Maria’s guide through the school. And, for a moment, Kouta’s own worries did seem to fly away as he tentatively raised his hand when the teacher asked for volunteers. Not that he expected to win the draw – there were far better options to be had, like the Class President, Kurata Nozomi.

The name caused him to feel another dip in his emotional stability. Nozomi, as he well knew, was one of Tetsuo’s conquests. It had made his respect for her plummet significantly ever since he’d known, to the point where he could barely take her seriously when she acted out her responsibilities.

He knew he wasn’t the only one, either.

“Alright, then! Yamada-kun! You do it!”

Kouta’s head snapped up in surprise as he watched the teacher smile at him, accompanied by a pleased smile from Maria.

What? How?

No, wait, how?!

Despite every expectation to the contrary, and even his classmates seemed stunned by the choice, the teacher had actually saddled him with guiding the new beauty queen of the class – if not the school – around the place!

That was…preposterous! Absurd!

Surely, a mistake!

So convinced he was, actually, that as soon as class ended (Maria ended up taking a seat nearby, but was immediately swarmed by interested classmates) that he rushed to the teacher to demand answers.

“Teacher!”

His homeroom teacher turned and smiled at him. “Ah, Yamada-kun! Thank you for volunteering to guide Arias-san!”

“About that…” Kouta said, swallowing nervously. “T-Teacher, are you sure you want me to do this? I mean, wouldn’t Kurata-san…?”

The teacher shrugged. “Between you and me?” he said, leaning towards him. “I admit, I thought so as well, but Arias-san is the one who asked me to pick you before class started. Do you happen to know her?”

Kouta stared at his teacher in bewilderment. “N-No!”

The teacher drew back, staring at him searchingly, as though he didn’t or couldn’t believe him, but then shrugged. “Well, then you might want to ask her for her reasons when you get the chance,” he reasoned before smiling at him. “Now, best get ready for the next class. And please remember to do your homework!”

Kouta watched helplessly as his teacher left the classroom and then glanced over at where Maria was still surrounded by a loose circle of interested classmates. Despite barely being visible, he did manage to catch a glimpse of her – and in that moment, their eyes met, and she smiled and shot him a small wave before returning her attention to the others.

Kouta frowned as he continued to be stunned by the turn of events. What was going on? Why had Maria asked for him to be her guide? And, for that matter, why had the teacher cared about her preference at all?!

The questions tormented him through the next class, where what he did notice was that Maria was…well…

Remarkably smart.

Like, easily smarter than the Class President. Every question the teacher brought before her, she answered quickly and correctly – her only handicap being her unfamiliarity with the Japanese language.

Even when PE class came up, she managed to surprise everyone by displaying a level of athleticism that her prior classroom behavior had belied. Far from a meek flower girl, Maria appeared to be quite the accomplished runner and even a decent swimmer. Not enough on either end to win competitions, but certainly enough to breeze past most of her classmates.

Eventually, though, break came, and Kouta’s assigned duties came to haunt him in the form of a smiling, eager Maria. For some reason, she’d seemingly figured out that he was going to make an excuse and bolt and had cornered him at his seat as soon as the bell rang.

“I’m ready for my tour, Yamada-san!”

Smiling nervously, Kouta nodded and amidst a storm of angry, jealous glares and clicking tongues, led the seemingly oblivious Maria out of the classroom.

More than a few times, they were stopped by other students from other classes who were surprised at the sight of a foreigner in their school uniform, but the break passed in relative peace as he showed Maria to the staff room, infirmary, cafeteria, and so forth. Rather than make a thousand questions, Maria simply nodded at his explanations, appearing to be giving him her full attention, and only made a few clarifying questions now and then.

“I see…and so all the grades come out for break at once? And in the same places? Isn’t that just chaotic?”

“And to leave school, is there any particular protocol? No? You can just leave?”

“Are the track and pool open to students outside of class hours? Clubs? Ah, I see.”

By the end of it, Kouta felt like he’d done a good enough job to acquaint Maria with the school. She certainly seemed to have absorbed his information like a sponge, for which he was grateful, though he was especially glad that she wasn’t uptight or standoffish.

And then the bell rang and it was time to head back to class. Smiling at Maria, who shot him a smile in return, he led her back to the classroom and was rounding a corner when he heard the last person he wanted to hear from right now.

“Kouta?”

Tetsuo.

Despair and anger froze him to his spot – almost causing Maria to bump into him. Turning slowly around, ignoring Maria’s worried query, he was cursed with the sight of his greatest, most hated enemy. The bane of his existence and the one person he wished, deep down, would die a horrible, agonizing death.

“I thought that was you!”

The ugly-as-sin son of a hotel chain magnate grinned nastily as he stared down at his perennial bullying victim, flanked as always by his two cronies. In all honesty, Kouta should’ve expected this – after all, Tetsuo’s henchmen, Sano and Niiyama, were in his class, and had likely tipped off Tetsuo to Maria’s existence.

“You never showed up at our usual hangout!” Tetsuo said with mock sadness as he sauntered up, his eyes clearly focused on Maria and eyeing her up and down like prized meat. “It really hurt my feelings!”

Kouta’s fists balled tight and his teeth were grinding so powerfully he might as well have turned stone to dust. And yet, for all his anger, he knew he couldn’t lash out. Tetsuo was not only stronger than him – he had backup and had the money and influence to make his life an even bigger living hell.

“And who’s this lovely sight?” Tetsuo asked with what he assumed was a charming smile.

Kouta turned slightly to see Maria staring down Tetsuo with an unimpressed gaze. She’d even crossed her arms at the sight of him. And yet, after finding out about Ayaka, Makiko, and Kurata, Kouta didn’t for a minute believe she would resist him any better than they had.

“Arias Maria,” she introduced herself curtly, not even deigning to bow this time. “Transfer student.”

The rude inflection in her voice and her lack of the proper graces surprised Kouta, Tetsuo, Sano, and Niiyama, but Tetsuo seemed to rally quickly, shooting him an annoyed glare before trying to charm her with a smile again.

“Charmed, Arias-san – may I call you Arias-chan?”

“No.”

Kouta had to admit – he was liking the icy tone in Maria’s words despite knowing that she, too, would eventually fall under his spell. At the very least, it treated him to the sight of Tetsuo being shot down rather satisfyingly.

Still, he persisted.

“W-Well, I don’t know what you may have heard, but I’m Ba—”

“Baba Tetsuo,” Maria cut him off. “Yes, I’m perfectly aware of who you are.”

Okay, that surprised Kouta. He hadn’t spoken a word of Tetsuo to Maria throughout their entire tour. Not once. Even after double checking his memory just in case he’d slipped up at some point, he came up with nothing.

Tetsuo and his cronies, for their part, seemed to think otherwise, as Tetsuo shot him an angry glare before again turning to Maria and trying to play it off.

“I don’t know what you think you’ve heard about me, but…”

“I know that you’re a bully who uses their wealth as a weapon,” Maria interjected flatly. “I know that you lure your female classmates into carnal relationships and then distribute videos of them.”

She then grabbed Kouta by the arm and turned away from Tetsuo. “And I know you’re not worth my time. Let’s go back to class, Yamada-san.”

Kouta could only mutely agree to her request as she practically dragged him away from Tetsuo, Sano, and Niiyama. Stunned as he was, he provided no resistance whatsoever, either.

Even when the goon squad showed up later at the classroom and shot him warning looks, all Kouta could do was shrug helplessly – he had no idea what was going on, either!

And then, when classes ended, Maria managed to stun him even further when she again appeared at his desk and smiled radiantly as she had before their tour. By this point, their classmates were even whispering among themselves at the strange sight of the new class Madonna seeking him out.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Yamada-san, would you allow me to visit your home?”

Directness must’ve been a virtue among foreigners, Kouta reasoned, because no Japanese person he knew would’ve ever made such a request on the day they met someone for the first time. Forget the class’ stunned looks – Kouta’s jaw dropped at the brazen question.

“I…that’s…”

Maria seemed to ignore all protests and grabbed him by the hand. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed, practically dragging him out of the classroom to his and his classmate’s stupor.

As they left, he could hear their not-so-quiet deliberations.

“What does she see in him?”

“Do you think maybe they know each other from before?”

“Can’t be, Yamada’s never mentioned her!”

“And she’s way out of his league!”

All of which was true, as far as he was concerned. And yet, Maria never once left his side as they retrieved their shoes and left the school premises.

Well, to be more accurate – he left the school, and she doggedly followed him.

Maria was a stalker.

That was, ultimately, Kouta’s evaluation. There was just no other explanation for her weird behavior. Somehow or another, Kouta had gotten himself mixed up with a stalker and she’d decided to make herself known today and was now going to follow him to his home, force her way in, and probably kill him.

How else could you explain the cookie-cutter smile, the perfect posture and mannerisms, the sudden and unexpected cold behavior towards a perfect stranger/douchebag like Tetsuo? Clearly, she’d researched him and was now trying to get as deep into his life as she could before he could run away.

It figured. His childhood friend was voluntarily sleeping with his bully, her friend who’d pretended to be on his side was as well, and now he was the object of murderous desire of a killer stalker.

Well, at least his pain would end soon enough! Hahahahahaha!

Hahaha…

Thoughts about how Maria would ultimately murder him – by knife? Maybe strangulation? Maybe she had a gun hidden on her person somewhere? – plagued him as they rode the train back in eerie silence. Or, it felt that way anyway – in truth, many people turned and whispered excitedly at the sight of Maria, but as far as Kouta was concerned, worrying about his own imminent death took way higher priority.

Even at the station, he paid Maria and the attention she was getting little heed as dark thoughts permeated the front of his mind. Said state of mind followed him all the way back home, even getting him to forego his usual stop by Ayaka’s school so they’d walk home together. Not that they did so as much these days – the knowledge of her consensual relationship with his bully straining their friendship critically.

It wasn’t until they’d actually reached his home that he more or less returned to reality – and even then, to find a rather fancy black car parked in front of it. A car he was certain his parents would’ve never been able to afford in their lives!

“Wha—?”

“Oh, good, they’re here already!” Maria said cheerfully, almost causing him to shriek in surprise as he belatedly remembered she was stalking him towards his home!

A distant sound from behind them caught his attention and he was about to turn to check when Maria practically shoved him towards his own front door.

“Come on!” she insisted with an expectant grin. “You won’t want to miss this!”

Somehow, that sounded really, really ominous.

Sakuraba Ayaka was confused.

No, perhaps that wasn’t the right word.

She was downright flabbergasted.

A few days ago, she’d noticed that, upon the start and end of her school day, Kouta hadn’t shown up as he usually did. Now, that wasn’t the only time he’d done that – Kouta had a life of his own, after all – but when he wasn’t going to stop by, he usually texted her to inform her so she wouldn’t wait.

But he hadn’t.

The result was that she’d waited for a few minutes before realizing he wasn’t coming and then, somewhat annoyed, had shot him a text.

No response.

Figuring he was in somewhat of a prissy mood for one reason or another, she’d decided to just go home after saying goodbye to Makiko – who’d also been acting weird these days. Her friend would rarely meet her eyes and often excused herself whenever she mentioned hanging out.

To make things worse, Tetsuo hadn’t emailed or texted her in that same amount of time, so neither her friends nor her boyfriend were being very communicative these days.

And then, after that first absence, she’d tried to pick up Kouta at home as she usually did…and was shooed away by his mother.

The very woman who’d had her over for dinner and acted like she was her own daughter had politely, but firmly asked her to leave.

Ayaka’s feelings were beginning to feel hurt.

More texts to Tetsuo turned out fruitless as well. Far from being supportive, he was basically acting like her texts didn’t matter – and she knew he was reading them because the blue checks were there!

Calls didn’t do much on that end, either – always to voicemail.

So, about a week after this whole bizarre string of events began, Ayaka made a decision. Roping in Makiko, who seemed supremely reluctant to participate, they left school immediately after the bell rang and made for the train station to hopefully head off Kouta as he returned from school.

“Ayaka…I don’t know…”

“I just need to know, Maki-chan.”

Makiko shot her an uneasy look. “Why, though?” she asked.

Ayaka turned to look at her. “What?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I don’t understand.”

Makiko turned her gaze away as she usually did these days. “He’s not your boyfriend, Ayaka. And, hell, you’ve been lying to him for a while now and getting me to do that, too. Don’t you think…don’t you think we should leave him well alone if he doesn’t want to see us?”

Ayaka blanched as she stared at her friend. “You…you don’t think…?”

“I mean, what else could it be?”

When Ayaka had learned from Tetsuo himself that he’d been Kouta’s bully, she’d made excuses. She rationalized it as Tetsuo having reformed, as having changed his ways, as no longer being a bully towards Kouta – and so that there was nothing wrong with being with Tetsuo now.

But those were empty platitudes.

Anyone with half a brain would’ve realized that.

To a bullying victim, a bully was a bully forever – unless they somehow managed to find it in their hearts to forgive them. Many didn’t. And to those, finding out your oldest friend in the world was in a relationship with their tormentor would’ve been the greatest betrayal of all.

Yes. It made sense.

“Oh, god!” she exclaimed softly as she held her hands to her mouth, suddenly feeling sick. “Oh, god!”

Makiko nodded grimly. “I think we should go,” she opined.

Ayaka slowly nodded, finally agreeing with her friend. It all made sense now – the cold shoulder from Kouta, the icy treatment from his mother…

They’d found out and were furious at her!

“A-Aya-nee?”

Ayaka stopped mid-turn at the familiar voice and an icy chill ran down her spine.

Kouta.

Warring emotions wreaked havoc on her mind. On the one hand, embarrassment and shame at the thought of facing her friend now that he knew about her relationship with Tetsuo. On the other hand, a desperate need to apologize – though she would stand her ground on the validity of said relationship.

In the end, the latter won out, and an apology was already on her lips as she turned around…only to die as she caught sight of her childhood friend.

Standing next to him, practically a beacon of foreign beauty and grace, was an unfamiliar, younger girl wearing Kouta’s school’s uniform. Judging from their closeness, they hadn’t just bumped into each other, but were rather walking somewhere together.

“K-Kouta?”

“Ah…!” Kouta exclaimed softly as he followed her gaze towards the girl, who stared back impassively. “Um…this…well…”

The girl shot Kouta a smile – a kinder, warmer smile than Ayaka felt capable of these days, honestly – before turning back to face Makiko and Ayaka with a colder one.

“I am Arias Maria, a recent transfer student at Kouta’s school.”

Ayaka and Makiko exchanged surprised looks. This foreigner was already using his first name? Was it because she was from another country? Their manners quickly caught up with them, though, and Ayaka and Makiko bowed politely in return.

“Pleased to meet you, Arias-san. My name is…”

“Sakuraba Ayaka and Nagai Makiko. Yes, I’m aware.”

Surprise at the fact that she knew their names aside, Ayaka was more intrigued by Kouta’s flinch.

“O-Oi! You’re being rude!” Makiko protested.

“Am I?” the girl asked Kouta innocently, who hesitantly shrugged, much to Ayaka’s surprise. She’d expected him to jump to their defense! “I suppose I just don’t have a lot of courtesy in me for classless sluts.”

Kouta flinched, Makiko gasped in outrage, and Ayaka stared at the rude girl with a hanging jaw.

“Wha-You!”

“Come on, Kouta. Our parents are waiting.”

Makiko didn’t even have a chance to retaliate before the rude girl had pulled Kouta away, and much to her disappointment and sadness, he didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight – if any at all. Instead, he diligently followed after her, not even sparing Makiko and Ayaka a fleeting backward glance.

The two girls stood there, rooted in place, for some time after the younger duo had departed. Neither seemed to truly understand what had just happened or were too paralyzed with humiliated anger to do much of anything.

But, when they did finally recover enough of their senses to move, it was already too late to do anything about the rude girl’s comments. Instead, all they had left was to walk home – though that afforded Makiko every opportunity to badmouth the girl and vent her fury. Part of Ayaka agreed with her – though she was curious about what the girl had implied when she’d accused Makiko of being a classless slut as well – while another part was focused on how sad she felt that Kouta hadn’t come to their defense.

“…do you think she’s why Kouta’s being weird?”

“She has to be!” Makiko exclaimed, suddenly on board with that theory. “He was a sweet kid and now that she’s here, he’s acting like a puppy being led by his master! She’s got to be the reason!”

Previous theories of Kouta knowing about Ayaka’s relationship with Tetsuo were thus discarded as blame was ultimately placed on the girl’s shoulders. And the more the two talked, the more Ayaka became convinced that had to be it. That had to be the reason. This toxic, rude foreigner had swept in and corrupted her beloved friend!

As she bade Makiko farewell in front of her friend’s house, Ayaka resolved herself to try and convince at least Kouta’s parents to let her back into Kouta’s life to save him from the little foreigner witch!

Proud as she was about her plan, she didn’t hesitate for a moment to let Tetsuo know via text.

And that prompted an immediate phone call that left her quite stunned.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

Ayaka flinched at the sudden, rough, frantic, and rude way her boyfriend had snapped the instruction.

“W-What?”

“Leave it alone, Ayaka! Don’t approach that little shit or that bitch! Promise me!”

Ayaka blinked in confusion before smiling softly. “Are…are you jealous, Tetsuo?”

That had to be it, right? Tetsuo was jealous of Kouta – like he’d confessed to her on Christmas – and felt threatened by her sudden interest in reconnecting with him.

“This isn’t a fucking game, Ayaka!” he snapped instead, again surprising her. He didn’t sound jealous – more like, afraid. Terrified, even! “You don’t know what you’re messing with!”

As the line cut, Ayaka couldn’t help but stare at her phone in shock. Tetsuo hadn’t sounded like himself – no confidence or self-assuredness, no softness. Instead, he’d sounded like a cornered animal desperate to flee!

And, unless her ears were playing tricks on her, he sounded afraid of…the girl.

Growing increasingly fearful for Kouta – who knew what that girl was up to if Tetsuo was so afraid of her! – she tried to text him…nothing. She tried to call him – “The number you have dialed is out of service…”

Was she…did he…did Kouta block her?

She tried to confide in Makiko, who seemed just as surprised as she was about this new turn of events, but also had no easy answers. She tried to search for the girl online, only to find nothing, as it seemed her name wasn’t that uncommon and most of the hits she found were in another language.

Thus, the mystery grew further and further as the days passed and Ayaka was no closer to an answer. Even with her fast-approaching graduation, she found herself torn between her studies, university applications, and concern over the sudden, bizarre twist in her life.

And then Tetsuo asked her out.

It was the first date they’d had in a while, so she was glad, but she was also confused.

“A black-tie event?”

“Yeah,” Tetsuo confirmed, looking shifty and a little fearful. “She…I mean, you’re going to need to dress up for it.”

Ayaka frowned. “I…I don’t think I can afford a fancy dress, Tetsuo…”

She wasn’t mistaken – there was a definite look of fear in his eyes in that moment. Still, he brought it under control and looked away. “I’ll buy it for you. Just make sure it’s really nice.”

This was growing weirder and weirder still. Normally, he would’ve insisted on following her to see her model the clothes. Maybe even lured her to a bathroom to have sex. Hell, the fact that the possibility of sex hadn’t even come up in this conversation was already a change of pace!

She tried to reach for his hand. “Are you alright, Tetsuo?”

The fact that he suddenly withdrew his hand like a coiled snake and looked around fearfully immediately told her he was lying when he quickly answered, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.”

Her boyfriend was lying to her and she didn’t much like it. Unfortunatey, though, she didn’t exactly have proof to force him to fess up about his transparent lying other than her intuition. Nor did he give her much of a chance to interrogate him as he was soon off, telling her to send him the bill for the dress, leaving her by herself at the café they’d met up at.

It was profoundly disappointing to her, given that she’d dressed up and even gotten excited at the prospect of another date after so long.

With nothing left to do but do as he’d asked, Ayaka instead spent what ought to have been her first date in weeks shopping for a dress – finally settling on a rather pretty, strapless black dress – the kind that Tetsuo would probably go wild over, as it would enhance her already bountiful assets and highlight her curves.

True to his word, Tetsuo never even blinked before informing her via text that he’d bought it and was having it shipped to her. She smiled at the text, believing he’d been smiling and feeling better now that he’d provided for his girlfriend.

Yes – things were weird now, but they would get better.

The day of the event finally came and Ayaka felt rather nervous, actually.

Tetsuo had come by to pick her up in a fancy car – far fancier than anything she’d ever ridden in before, to be honest – and together they had ridden in relative silence towards the venue.

Well, he was silent – Ayaka was bursting with questions.

“So, what’s this event?”

“Do you like my make-up? Is it alright for this?”

“What about my dress? You don’t think it’s too tacky, do you?”

In all honesty, Ayaka was desperately trying to fill in the silence because the longer Tetsuo stayed quiet, staring resolutely forward with that terrified look in his eyes, the more anxious she felt. For a moment, in fact, as they were pulling up to the venue entrance, she actually thought he would tell the driver – a man she didn’t recognize – to take them home.

And yet he didn’t. Instead, he quietly got out of the car, prompting her to hurriedly do the same, and when she did, she was immediately stunned by the beauty of the place.

So distracted was she by Tetsuo’s behavior that Ayaka hadn’t realized they were actually at the Roppongi Hills Tower! Home of one of the most – if not the most exclusive clubs in the entire country!

Ayaka shot Tetsuo an appreciative look that he missed – she had never realized that, however wealthy he apparently was, he was connected and wealthy enough to be a member of this place!

…right?

Ayaka grew confused as Tetsuo seemed uncertain about approaching the doors. Normally, you’d have expected a member to practically swagger their way indoors – after all, membership here meant you were the elite of the elite!

And yet, as she accompanied Tetsuo to the doorway, a security guard in a suit that was easily worth her annual tuition stopped them.

“Name?” the guard asked flatly.

Ayaka actually felt a bit outraged. How dare the guard be so rude to a mem—!

“…Baba Tetsuo. I…I’m a guest of Yamagata-sama.”

Ayaka felt her ego deflate a bit as Tetsuo clarified the situation indirectly. He wasn’t a member after all. Just a guest. Still, she had to admit she was impressed that he knew people this high up in society – she’d always assumed he was just moderately wealthy.

“Ah, yes. Yamagata-sama informed us you might show up. The event is in Club Room I,” the guard informed them with a wry smile that made Ayaka feel uncomfortable. “Your other guest has already been escorted there.”

As Tetsuo flinched, Ayaka glanced at him curiously. What other guest? He hadn’t informed her that he’d be bringing along someone else.

Despite inquisitive glances, though, Tetsuo refused to meet her gaze as another guard similarly well-dressed escorted them to the elevator and then up to the 51^st floor of the Roppongi Hills Tower. She felt about ready to burst and demand an explanation when the elevator dinged and announced their arrival, whereupon the guard sternly asked them to follow him.

“Whatever happens,” Tetsuo whispered to her, “just shut up and let me do the talking. I’m begging you.”

For some reason, Ayaka felt a pit of anxiety forming and growing in her stomach. Something was definitely wrong. This didn’t feel like a normal date or even a fancy one. This honestly felt more like…

…like an execution.

Before she could voice such concerns, however, they were at the doors and, beyond them, she could hear the sound of what seemed like soft, classical music wafting through. As the doors opened, the music became clearer – as did her view of the interior.

It was, in a word, gorgeous.

Tastefully decorated, the event hall nonetheless smacked of wealth and luxury. It was like if every little decoration, sparse and appropriately placed for maximum impact, underscored the upper-class nature of the event.

The people inside, too, were incredibly elegant and well-dressed – to the point where Ayaka suddenly felt underdressed for the occasion. There were no gaudy fashion statements or casual little black dresses – each suit or dress looked like would cost more than her father’s car!

As she gazed in wonder at the room and its occupants, she felt Tetsuo’s arm, entwined with hers, stiffen, and she followed his gaze and saw a man in an incredibly fancy-looking suit and vest combo grin and walk up to them, arms spread out in welcome.

“Ah! The man of the hour!” the man greeted them cheerfully as more than a few eyes turned to look. “I’m so glad you could come!”

Ayaka eyed Tetsuo, wondering how he’d react. Rather than pleased or happy, though, he seemed even more tense and anxious and, once he bowed low, she followed suit quickly.

“Yamagata-sama, it is an ho—”

“Oh, come off it!” Yamagata said dismissively. “I could hardly not invite you after hearing all about you from my dearest friend!”

The fact that Tetsuo flinched as violently as he did and that Ayaka could see the lack of warmth or mirth in Yamagata’s eyes clued her in. This wasn’t a friend of Tetsuo’s. This was not, as her instincts had screamed at her before, a party Tetsuo had been invited to out of courtesy or genuine sociability.

Something was off. Something was wrong.

“Ah, and here she is now!”

Ayaka followed their host’s gaze and felt her jaw drop as she saw the last person she imagined.

The rude girl who’d poisoned her Kouta’s mind!

“Maria, darling!” Yamagata greeted her exuberantly and with much more affection and warmth than he’d shown them. “You don’t write, you don’t call! I was heartbroken to hear you’ve been in the country for a month and hadn’t even reached out!”

The rude girl smiled brilliantly at their host as she approached, a flute glass in hand. Ayaka couldn’t help but stare – much like the other people in the room, the foreign girl was dressed to the nines – far outclassing her own dress for sure!

“Nobu, sweetie, you know how it is!” Maria returned cheerfully. “All work, all the time!”

Yamagata swooned dramatically before sidling up to her. “Oh, don’t I know it! You really do need to tell your father to let you breathe a little, though, you know! All work and no play make Maria a sad girl!”

The two shared a laugh that seemed appropriate for close friends, which alarmed Ayaka all the more. The rude girl had clearly had it out for her from the outset, which meant that if she was friends with their host, it would explain why Tetsuo was so terrified of being here – they were effectively in enemy territory!

“Um…” she whispered to him. “Should we go?”

Tetsuo seemed willing to entertain the idea, at least, and briefly made a move to follow through before freezing in place.

“Oh? Leaving so soon?”

The casually spoken words had a chilling effect on both Ayaka and Tetsuo. Turning around slightly, they saw not only the rude girl but also Yamagata and other guests eyeing them like prey.

“It’s quite rude to depart so soon after arriving, Baba-kun,” Yamagata said pleasantly, taking over from Maria’s question. “You might…hurt my feelings!”

The chuckle that swept through the nearby guests eyeing them felt…intimidating. Aggressive.

Judgmental.

“I…no…”

“Oh, do leave the potato alone, Nobu!” the rude girl interjected with faux-sweetness. “It’s to be expected of a jumped-up little cockroach, after all!”

Ayaka flushed in outrage and anger on behalf of her boyfriend who puzzlingly refused to defend himself as he normally would have as the crowd around them sniggered. He certainly had the physique and presence to physically intimidate anyone here – and she’d found his ability to be strong on her behalf charming in its own way – so she couldn’t figure out why he was letting these people belittle him this way!

“How dare you!” she exclaimed, pointing at the rude girl. “Who do you think you are?!”

The hushed silence around them, seemingly out of surprise at her outburst, was immediately replaced with clicking tongues and arrogant glowers that, for her vision, lasted all of a second before she was suddenly on her knees, on the ground, in a forced, apologetic dogeza. On the back of her head she could feel the familiar touch of Tetsuo, who, as she struggled against his grip, she saw was similarly on the ground next to her.

“Please forgive us!” he begged. “We…she…we meant no insult!”

“What are you doing, Tetsuo?!” she demanded.

“Shut up!” he snapped back. “Just bow and apologize!”

This…this was wrong.

Tetsuo was a proud guy. Confident. He was the guy with the charm, the self-assuredness, the go-getting attitude!

Who was this cowering imposter next to her?

A moment of silence passed before anyone spoke.

“Your head is too high.”

Ayaka felt and heard her head smash against the floor, momentarily stunning her. For a moment, she thought Tetsuo had done that before realizing, with a brief, angry glance, that he, too, had had his head smashed against the floor.

“Better. Thank you, Kazama-san.”

“Of course, sir.”

A guard. A guard had smashed their heads to the floor. Ayaka grimaced through the pain and bit back an insult if only to avoid getting the rough treatment again.

“Up.”

This time, the pain came from having her head pulled up by her hair and she yelped in pain as she was forced to look up, the bruise on her forehead aching something horrible. Standing before her and Tetsuo were Yamagata, the rude girl, and the crowd of smartly-dressed people who’d been thus far enjoying the show.

“Hmm…” Yamagata mused aloud as he eyed her, getting up close and seemingly inspecting every inch of her. “Off the rack. Tacky.”

Laughter swept through the crowd as he made his judgment and withdrew. Ayaka flushed in humiliation.

“You couldn’t spring for a better dress?” Yamagata then asked Tetsuo. “Well, then again, I suppose I wouldn’t spend that much money on a whore either.”

“Ask her how much!” crowed one of the guests, launching another round of laughter.

“Oh, come now, Yuu-chan! It’s bad form to ask a whore her price while she’s on the arm of a client! You know that better than anyone!”

As the laughter grew, Ayaka felt tears well up as she was subjected to insult after insult. “I’m not a whore!” she shouted at them, much to their amusement.

“No?” Yamagata asked wryly as he once again approached her and cupped her chin. “We’ve heard differently, see. Ain’t that right, Maria darling?”

“I mean, what else would you call a person who sells out their friend to their bully for dick?” the rude girl asked with a cruel smile.

“Ooh! Spicy!” one of the female guest shouted.

“If it’s just that, I’m sure I can make a better offer, miss!” one of the male guests added between laughs.

“Ugh, no, Ryu! Do you really want to go anywhere near anything this potato’s been around?” the rude girl asked in mock horror.

More laughter.

“Ah, Maria, darling, I’ve missed you terribly!” Yamagata swooned. “You truly bring me the best presents!”

“Only the best for my childhood friend, Nobu,” the rude girl said with a smile before turning to Ayaka and Tetsuo but looking past them. “Salon II, please.”

Ayaka was about to protest when she felt her arms get roughly pulled back and held in place by someone unseen, and as she struggled saw Tetsuo being led past her more obediently.

How? How had things gone so wrong so quickly?!

And who the hell was that rude girl that she was able to orchestrate this sort of public shaming?!

No answers were forthcoming as she was led past jeering and mocking guests to the side venue.

Arias Maria, or Maria Isabella Fernanda Arias de la Cruz – as she was more properly known back home – liked to think of herself as a noble. A being of culture, education, and duty.

“Why are you doing this?”

Maria smiled as she gracefully sat opposite her prey. They were currently arraigned on a couch opposite her seat – diligently prepared by the staff who pointedly pretended nothing wrong was going on. In the middle of the couch was the potato, Baba Tetsuo. To his left was his girlfriend, Sakuraba Ayaka.

…and on his right was Ayaka’s friend, Nagai Makiko.

“And why is Makiko here?!”

“Oof, so noisy…are you sure you don’t want me to just…you know?” Nobu asked plaintively. “It’d be quicker.”

“Come now, Nobu,” she said patiently. “Are you saying you don’t want to savour this moment?”

“Well…I suppose.”

“In answer to your question,” Maria told Ayaka, pre-empting another outburst, “we’re doing this for two reasons. Nobu?”

Her friend smirked at the captive trio. “First, because of the potato there,” he said, tauntingly waggling his index finger at him. “He’s been throwing his pathetic little weight around a lot these days and it’s been drawing attention that we don’t want. So he’s here to be reminded that, in our world, he’s nothing. Just a jumped-up little cockroach playing at king and he needs to remember his place.”

Maria smirked as Tetsuo dipped his head. The potato certainly knew his place!

“And you two are here because…well…I like to think of it as noblesse oblige.”

“No…what?”

“Breaking out the French before the peasants!” Nobu said gleefully. “Classic!”

Maria smirked at him before turning to the girls. “It means, power begets responsibility. As you may have surmised, I am not just some guest here.”

“Far from it!” Nobu crowed. “If she were Japanese, she would’ve been a zaibatsu princess!”

“Where I come from, I’d be called part of one of the great families,” Maria added sweetly. “It means that while this potato here acts all big and tough because his daddy owns a few hotels, my family has been powerful since the Americas were first colonized.”

She curled her fingers to observe her impeccable nailwork. “And where I come from, power begets a certain level of responsibility and duty.”

“Always a bit of a quirk, I have to admit,” Nobu observed wryly. “But then, I always found that part of your culture quite charming.”

“Quite,” Maria agreed before turning back to their unwilling guests. “See, where I come from, business is good while the status quo is good. That means making sure society stays stable, making sure the economy stays stable, that the politics are manageable, and that undesirables are put in their place.”

She pointed at the potato. “His kind, the new rich, are a particular headache to us in that sense. No sense of restraint or responsibility. Just pilfering and spending and thinking with their tiny little dicks. No class, not tact.”

She gestured to herself. “Did you know that your boyfriend there tried to hit on me the day he met me? Right as I was with that charming childhood friend of yours, Kouta.”

“Ah, the puppy!” Nobu interjected with a wide grin. “He was fun!”

Maria watched as Ayaka started in surprise while Makiko’s eyes widened. “What did you do to Kouta?!”

“Nothing, really,” Nobu said airily. “I mean, he seemed like he was having a nice enough time while on the yacht. Oh, my girls were all over that cute little puppy!”

“He does tickle your protective instincts, doesn’t he?” Maria agreed with a smile. “Like a poor, abused puppy trying his best.”

“Yes, that’s exactly right!” Nobu agreed.

Maria smirked at Ayaka and Makiko, who withered under her gaze. Tetsuo, for his part, seemed to be biting his lip somewhat fiercely in restrained anger, so, deciding to taunt him a little, she got up from her seat and walked over, leaning over to ask him aloud.

“Jealous?” she asked. “You know, that boy got his hands on models you could only dream of ever meeting! The kind of bodies you fap to while lying to this brainless slut and hiding the fact that you’re fucking her best friend behind her back!”

Maria savoured the look of shock, then betrayal as Ayaka’s head snapped over to stare at Makiko, whose own eyes widened in horrified surprise.

“You…you didn’t! Tell me she’s lying!”

“I…I…!”

“You bitch!” Ayaka screamed. “You’re my best friend and you fucked my boyfriend!”

“He…he threatened to have my dad fired!”

Maria stepped back to enjoy with Nobu the sight of the friendship collapsing. It honestly was a delicious payoff to having had the entire school’s student and staff body investigated prior to her enrollment. Some might have considered the measure unnecessary, but when your family’s wealth and power could move or paralyze a country’s government, you took steps to ensure safety.

And this juicy scandal was honestly too good to pass up on.

She then eyed Nobu and gave him a discreet nod.

He got the hint immediately and stepped forward, clapping his hands for attention. “Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about that!” he exclaimed extravagantly.

The two feuding girls turned to look at him, Makiko’s expression actually showing some measure of hope.

“W-What do you mean by that?”

Nobu grinned cruelly. “Just that we got rid of the problem. If the problem is that you’re afraid of your dad losing his job, then no need to worry! Because as we speak, he’s losing it anyway!”

Maria smirked at Makiko. “Nobu’s parents told the board to fire him in exchange for a generous buyout package.”

The colour drained from Makiko’s face as she stared at them in horrified shock. “No…no way! You’re lying!”

“Afraid not,” Nobu cackled. “A dingy, rundown company like that? Pocket change for my folks. And since Maria darling here asked so nicely, we were more than happy to oblige!”

“But also, for good measure, we decided to let your boyfriend know about your little trysts,” Maria then added for the killer blow. “He’s…not too happy, to say the least!”

Ah…the sight of Makiko processing the complete collapse of her world was…invigorating. If it weren’t for the strict rules regarding relationships her family imposed on its members, especially those her age, she certainly would’ve found the most attractive servant back in the room and had him fuck her silly!

Unfortunately, she’d have to make do with the usual stress-relief.

“And as for hotel daddy…!” Nobu sang at the potato, who suddenly stiffened and looked at them with mounting anxiety.

“Let’s just say we had our good friends at the government launch a health and safety investigation into the hotels,” Maria informed him.

“They…they won’t find anything!”

“They’ll find whatever we want them to find,” Nobu corrected him with a smirk. “And while they’re closed for…well, who knows how long…I wonder how many guests will suddenly feel the need to review bomb the hotel? Heck, they might even remember issues they didn’t at the time!”

As the potato sputtered and paled at the implications of what they were saying, Maria leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the sight of it all. Makiko’s entire rationalized reason for cheating on her boyfriend was dead in the water in the worst possible way and the relationship itself was most certainly obliterated. Her friendship with Ayaka was similarly destructed, while Ayaka’s potato boyfriend had been suitably brought down to his proper place – rock bottom, with all the other bottom feeders.

Only one target left.

She gestured at Nobu, who nodded with a cheerful smile before clapping his hands and ordering the guards to take Makiko and the potato away, leaving Maria alone with Ayaka, who stared at her in confusion.

“Why…are you doing this?” she asked with a hollow look. “Y-You said something about responsibility, but…”

“Before I came to this country, due to my father’s business interests, I had all the potential schools I’d be attending investigated,” Maria explained with a smile. “But not to find the safest – oh no. That’s only what I told them I was doing. Instead, it was to find the one with the juiciest secret – the most amusing scandal. And that potato using his power and privilege to coerce and seduce the women around him? That was just too good to pass up!”

“You…were looking for people to hurt!” Ayaka gasped in realization.

Maria smirked. “Absolutely. You see, when you get to be as powerful as we are, normal diversions don’t quite cut it anymore. So, some of us go down Nobu’s route – extravagant, but exclusive parties, others take up golf, some keep their heads down, but then there are those like me, who enjoy hurting people.”

Maria inspected her nails unnecessarily. “Of course, I can’t just hurt anyone. Being part of who we are means, like I said, keeping the status quo. And that means being careful – especially with our targets – the poorer they are, the more sympathetic they can be to the press, so they’re a no-go. So, instead of just hurting anyone, I hurt those whose pain improves my profile – scumbags, bottom feeders, frausters, cheaters, and the like.”

She pointed an exquisitely manicured finger at Ayaka. “And since you were with the potato, you came up in my investigation, and the details there were…oh…delicious!”

Maria practically panted as she gestured at Ayaka, who tried to recede into the sofa to get away from her. “Betrayal of a childhood friend! Sex with his bully! A best friend who was her boyfriend’s cheating partner! I mean, good god, Ayaka, you were the complete package!”

Maria then realized how she was acting and coughed awkwardly before sitting back down properly. “In short, you were my perfect victim. And, bonus points! It turns out my father’s interested in Kouta’s father as a possible employee as we’re always looking for new talent back home! So, not only do I get to destroy you, I get to steal your childhood friend away to work for me on the other side of the world!”

Maria had to restrain herself from letting her arousal get too out of hand. Once it was back under control, she grinned at Ayaka.

“And so that’s why I did what I did. Benefits to high society aside by getting rid of the potato, you were just an amusing diversion for me to pass the time.”

Ayaka stared at her with horror. “You…monster!”

Maria smiled sweetly at her. “I’ve been called worse, and it’s not entirely wrong to begin with, so you might find I’m less than insulted by that.”

She then got up and walked over to Ayaka and took a seat next to her, much to the girl’s disgust as she reflexively flinched away.

“Besides, my torture’s not done yet!” Maria practically sang at her.

“W-What do you mean?”

“See, for whatever reason, Kouta seems to have the hots for you. You know, even after you let that human potato get all up in there,” she gestured vaguely and rudely at Ayaka’s entire body. “Makiko too, for that matter – greedy little boy.”

Ayaka blushed – likely at the thought of being desired, even if she didn’t particularly feel attraction for her friend. “A-And?”

Maria grinned cruelly at her as she leaned forward, making Ayaka draw back. “So here’s the deal, my dear: become Kouta’s woman – not his girlfriend, not his wife, his woman. The type of side-chick you hate most – or else I’ll have Nobu and his friends drive your family into crippling poverty.”

Ayaka paled at the thought. “B…But…no! You can’t do this!”

“Oh, but I can, and I think we both know that.”

“I…I don’t love Kouta that way, though!”

Maria shrugged. “And? I’m not doing this for love. I’m doing this to reward the little puppy, and in return, I’ll have his absolute, lasting loyalty. Moreso once I give him Makiko as well!” She then grinned. “And also, I’m doing this because I know you hate this!”

Ayaka tried to glower at her but failed. In truth, she probably knew this monster in human flesh had her in checkmate. If anything she’d told Makiko and the potato was true – and it was – then by this time tomorrow, both of them and their families would be facing lifetime poverty. Makiko would jump at the opportunity to avoid that fate. The potato would probably despair and end up on the streets, or worse.

Ayaka, for all her pride and self-confidence, was no better.

Faced with absolute defeat and a potentially horrible future, she knew she had no choice but to cave.

“I…”

Maria grinned. “Yes?”

“I…”

“Say the words, come on: I promise I’ll be Kouta’s little slut until the day he tires of me.”

“…”

“I mean, it’s not like you haven’t said something similar to the potato, so what’s losing your integrity again?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I…p-promise I’ll be Kouta’s l-little s-slut until the day he tires of m-me…”

“Good girl.”

Chapter 17: Retaliation

Chapter Text

Kosuke could never shake the feeling after all.

No matter how he’d denied it to himself, the visions continued to haunt him as he observed his wife and father interact, slowly recognizing that although they superficially seemed fine, the two occasionally acted in a way that clearly went over the line of propriety.

Yes, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

His wife was undeniably fucking his father.

And, if he was honest, there was no mathematical way the baby Yui was carrying was his. The dates of conception simply didn’t add up and Yui had been remarkably disinterested in sex with him since his initial accident.

Yes, he had been well and truly cuckolded by his own father.

And the realization filled him with despair…and then rage.

After throwing up and crying in an alley behind a bar the day he came to terms with what he knew to be true, Kosuke had felt his heart harden as it became filled with hatred and anger for his progenitor and his wife.

Even now, his father was likely fucking Yui behind his back while he was working. He’d insisted, after all, to stick around while Yui was reaching the final stages of her pregnancy. Hell, he’d insisted since all the way back when her pregnancy was even announced! And before then, when he’d gotten into that fateful accident.

But Kosuke wasn’t the type to express his rage violently. He’d always prided himself on being in control of himself and reading the room – a true master of Omote-ura, as Japanese people were supposed to be.

So when he’d gone home that evening, all smiles, neither Yui nor his father suspected anything. They still welcomed him with those smiles that Kosuke could only interpret as taunting as they pretended he was still welcome in his own house while they deceived him.

But Kosuke refused to let them see him hurt. He refused to give them the satisfaction of victory either.

That night, as Yui pretended to be a good wife and his father pretended to be a concerned grandparent-to-be, Kosuke began plotting his revenge, vowing to make sure they would never get to enjoy the result of their betrayal.

“So, son, how’s it feel?”

Kosuke looked over at his father as the two made their way back home in his car.

“Hmm?”

His father scoffed at him. “What do you mean, hmm? You’re about to be a father, son! How’s it feel?”

I wouldn’t know. It’s not my kid.

The vicious thought threatened to burst through his reduced self-control, but he managed to clamp down with the little sobriety he still had left. He and his father had gone out for drinks in ostensible celebration of Kosuke’s impending fatherhood, and he’d made sure to drink “too much” to drive, allowing his father to take the wheel despite his own advanced state of drinking. Fortunately for him, though, he’d had a lifetime of drinking experience to give him higher tolerance than his son, so they were going to make it back safe and sound.

“Doesn’t feel real,” Kosuke eventually answered, deliberately slurring his words more than would be necessary.

His father laughed. “You’re not the only father to think so!” he said between chuckles. “When your mother told me we were having you, I was pretty sure I’d been transported into an alternate reality!”

One where fucking your daughter-in-law behind your son’s back is okay, you fucking asshole?

“Mom would probably have loved being a grandmother,” Kosuke said after sighing deeply as he leaned against the window and watched the road ahead.

“She would,” his father confirmed with a sad nod. “Shame she’s not here to see it.”

She would’ve fucking neutered you for what you’ve done.

He eyed the road ahead and restrained a knowing smirk. He knew what was coming up – he’d programmed his father’s GPS to make sure of it. He counted down in his head.

Fifteen.

“If I had a daughter, I’d call her Ayumi, like mom,” Kosuke said longingly. “A good woman.”

Nine.

“What’re you on about, son?” his father asked with a tolerant laugh. “You’re about to have a daughter any day now! Ayumi’s a good name, though.”

Five.

“Can’t name this baby that,” Kosuke said groggily, slowly rising up to lean against the headrest.

Three.

“Why’s that?”

Two.

“’Cause she’s my sister.”

Kosuke’s father barely had a chance to react to his words, his head suddenly snapping to look at him with wide, horrified eyes, when Kosuke – finally acting as sober as he actually was – lashed out, grabbed the wheel, and pulled up with all his might, forcing the car to the right and into the opposing lane.

Normally, one might’ve assumed Kosuke was looking to get them both into a vehicular crash, but at the time of night they were returning home, he’d known the odds of that were slim to none. Thus, he’d improvised.

Instead of relying on the probability of traffic, he’d scouted out several routes home over the week and hit a gold mine when he’d noticed big, concrete lane dividers set up around a roadway repair site. At this time of night, most people wouldn’t use the roadway, so the odds of it being deserted were good. Moreover, he’d read on Twitter that the damaged lane had been sealed off already for the protection of drivers, but that work wouldn’t happen until next week.

And so Kosuke had planned and plotted and timed everything to the second.

And now, the result was that their car was barreling towards the concrete barrier at such an angle that his father’s side would get the brunt of the impact. And, just to make sure the hit took, he’d deliberately shorted out the airbag circuit after doing some anonymous Google searches at an internet café.

The result was predictable.

When Kosuke came to after a brief, painful blackout, he recognized he was no longer in the car, but rather outside, on the asphalt, looking up at a blurry light as some sort of chaos was raging around him. He could feel a source of heat coming from nearby and, when he tried to move his head to figure out what was happening, felt someone hold his head steady.

“Easy! Easy! You’ve just been in an accident, buddy!”

Kosuke could dimly hear the voice of someone in the background shouting “He’s awake!” before his vision cleared up a little and he could now make out the blurry image of what seemed like a paramedic.

“Wha…” he moaned.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. The airbag and seatbelt managed to soften the blow.”

For a moment, Kosuke panicked. Had his plot failed? If his airbag had deployed, had his father’s as well? If he was alive, he could tell everyone what Kosuke had done!

“Hey, hey, breathe slowly!” the paramedic urged him as he felt himself starting to hyperventilate. “It’s going to be alright!”

“M…My father…”

The paramedic didn’t answer him and Kosuke’s swimming vision didn’t help. However, the blurry overhead light turned off and he heard the paramedic sigh.

“He’s alive, but barely,” he said sadly. “He’s already been rushed to the hospital. Don’t worry. He’s in safe hands.”

No…NO! That was the opposite of what he wanted! He wanted the bastard to die so that he could go out knowing his son had carried out his revenge and Yui could feel the devastation of losing her man just as their baby was about to be born!

Damnit!

Still, Kosuke restrained himself, though he was unable to restrain angry tears. Fortunately for him, though, the paramedics seemed to believe he was crying for his father’s poor health rather than because he wished his father was dead. So, they kept encouraging him to have hope and such all the way to the hospital, which only served to make him feel worse.

There, he was rushed to a doctor for a full check-up to make sure he hadn’t suffered any internal injuries the paramedics might’ve missed, but as the EMTs had told him, the airbag and seatbelt had effectively saved his life and kept the damage to him minimal.

Still, they insisted on keeping him overnight for observation, and that was when Yui finally made her appearance, rushing into his room in a desperate panic just as the doctor was finishing explaining his condition back at him.

“Ko-kun!” she cried out in relief and despair, her pregnant belly wobbling slightly from the exertion. She grasped his left hand as if desperate to confirm he was, in fact, still alive. “You’re alright!”

How.

How could she just stand there and pretend she gave a fuck after sleeping with his father and carrying his child?

Omote-ura. Omote-ura, he reminded himself.

He shot her a tired, pained smile. It wasn’t hard to pretend – he felt both of those things.

“Fortunately,” he told her softly before nodding at the doctor standing there in polite silence. “They say my airbag and seatbelt kept me safe this time around.”

It had been a car accident that had sent me to the hospital the first time around, after all.

“Oh, thank god!” she cried out in relief before looking over at the doctors. “He’s fine, right?!”

“He is,” the doctor confirmed with a brief bow. “I am Dr. Nakamura, miss. I will be your husband’s attending physician for the duration of his brief stay here with us.”

“How brief?” she asked quickly.

“Just overnight for the moment,” Dr. Nakamura informed her. “To be frank, we’d release him right now given his minimal, superficial injuries, but we just want to be sure.”

As Yui nodded and bowed to the doctor, Kosuke did the same in gratitude. “Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re very welcome,” Dr. Nakamura answered before sighing and pushing up his glasses. “Unfortunately, I do have some unpleasant news.”

Kosuke felt his heart rate spike. This had to be about his father!

“W-What about, doctor?” Yui asked nervously for him.

“It’s about Mr. Matsuo’s father.”

Kosuke swallowed nervously as he felt Yui’s grip tighten. “What about him?”

“He’s still in surgery,” Dr. Nakamura said before adjusting his clipboard under his arm. “But I have to be honest – it doesn’t look good. The damage to his body has been particularly severe. For some reason, the airbag in the car failed to trigger properly, so its mitigating effects were diminished.”

Kosuke restrained a yelp as Yui’s grip reached painful levels. “…what’s the prognosis?”

“I don’t want to make any promises or definitive predictions,” Dr. Nakamura warned before sighing. “But based on his condition upon entering this hospital, it is likely we will have to amputate his left leg due to a severe crush injury, and the damage to his brainstem is also particularly alarming. Though we can’t be certain at this moment, we estimate he will likely be paralyzed to some extent depending on the scope of the injury the surgical team finds.”

Kosuke wasn’t sure yet whether to celebrate or curse because none of this really mattered until he was sure his father wouldn’t be able to squeal about the true circumstances of the accident!

“I…do have to mention, however, that we found elevated blood alcohol levels in both of you,” the doctor continued, shifting slightly. “Your father’s was more elevated than yours, too.”

As Yui’s head snapped over to look at him accusingly, Kosuke reminded himself to keep up the charade for now. He dipped his head in pretend shame and, after getting Yui to let go of his hand, entwined them on his lap.

“We…went out for drinks to celebrate my child’s imminent birth,” he said contritely. “I got pretty drunk, though, so I told him to drive…I didn’t realize he was that badly off.”

“I see,” the doctor replied before nodding. “I will, as per hospital policy, have to report this to the authorities, unfortunately. Driving under the influence is a crime, after all.”

Yui practically jumped to her feet to plead with the doctor on this point – to show leniency and to avoid notifying the proper authorities, but Kosuke provided only token assistance, largely agreeing with her and making no real effort to convince the doctor to see things their way.

Thus, predictably, he left the room without any commitment to them, leaving Yui in a sobbing state by his bed as Kosuke relished in her pain.

He made, of course, token gestures of comfort towards her, insisting everything would be alright and that maybe the police wouldn’t be so harsh on his father. He knew that was unlikely, though, as the penalty for driving under the influence was harsh – up to 3 years in prison! And with a hefty fine, too! – and Kosuke was determined to see it executed as far as the law would allow if his father truly did survive the crash.

For now, though, he just whispered sweet words of comfort to his wife, enjoying the knowledge that she had no idea that, once he was done with his father, she would be next.

“Here you go, pops!” Kosuke said with a smile as he fed his seemingly vegetative father some puréed apple compote.

He had to restrain the cruel smile that threatened to break through as his father swallowed the food with some gentle massaging to his throat.

His father hated apples.

Not that he was able to tell anyone that. Or anything at all, really – because, as the doctors eventually told him after weeks of testing, his father had gone into what was known as locked-in syndrome. The damage to his brainstem had been so severe that, although he was now aware and conscious of the world around him, he was functionally little better than a vegetable with some small eye movements.

Given his condition, then, the courts had ruled that while his father was guilty of driving under the influence, he could not serve his prison sentence and had it suspended while remanding him to Kosuke’s custody. He was, however, still fined ¥500,000 – which Kosuke made sure to pay out of his father’s savings. His father’s savings also went to nominally take care of him given that Kosuke, as his sole living relative, now had full executorial powers over his estate.

“No Yui today either, pops,” Kosuke said with a satisfied smile as he sat face-to-face with his disabled progenitor. “Not that she’d be interested in you anymore after losing anything that remotely made you a man!”

He grinned in sadistic pleasure as his father’s eyes twitched and they gazed into him.

“Did you really think I would let that slide, pops?” Kosuke asked lightly, one hand stirring the apple compote with the spoon. “That I would really forgive that kind of betrayal?”

His father was dying to say something – he could see it in his eyes – but Kosuke had constantly made excuses as to why he couldn’t acquire the technology needed to help his father communicate. Either it was too expensive, or they needed to save up for the baby, or this, or that…

In short, Kosuke had made damn sure his father would never be able to tell a soul what had happened that night.

“You know, mom would’ve skinned you alive for what you did,” he added, picking up a bit of compote with his fingers and flicking it at his father’s unresponsive face. “Putting your hands on your daughter-in-law? Cuckolding your own son? Getting my wife pregnant? You’re lucky she’s dead, pops, because if you think I’m overreacting, she would’ve gone further!”

He sighed as he smiled and watched the compote drip down his father’s face. “And Yui…oh, man. Mom would’ve probably killed her outright! Well, no, not really. She definitely would’ve slapped her, though. And certainly kicked her out of the house and forced her to sign the divorce papers!”

He leaned in towards his father, bringing his face up close to his disabled father’s. “That bitch thinks she got away with it,” he told him. “But she’s wrong. Little Aya may have been born, but both you and Yui are about to lose her forever.”

He saw his father’s eyes widen and breath quicken and smirked as he leaned back, satisfied with the mental torture he was putting his progenitor through.

And it was true – while Yui recovered at the hospital with Aya and he was here at home with his father, Kosuke had begun to finalize preparations for Phase 2 of his plan – the deepest and harshest cut he would ever inflict on his wife. To that end, he’d already called up a few people and made the proper arrangements, and now all that he needed to do was wait.

When the hammer dropped, Yui’s expression was everything he could’ve hoped for.

“You…you want a divorce?”

Kosuke nodded seriously as his lawyer sat in the nearby chair looking grim and professional.

“To be specific,” his lawyer cut in, “Mr. Matsuo is filing for divorce with the family court and suing for sole custody of his sister.”

It took a moment before Yui’s head snapped over to him, eyes wide with horror and shock, as the shoe finally dropped.

“His…sister?!”

Kosuke stayed silent – as his lawyer had instructed – as his counsel produced a folder from his briefcase.

“We have here paternity test results obtained at Mr. Matsuo’s discretion,” the lawyer informed her promptly, laying it down on the table between them. “They clearly show that Mr. Matsuo’s relation to your daughter is not paternal but filial. To be more precise, that she is his half-sister.”

“That…that’s not true!” Yui all but screamed as she shot to her feet, her yell causing Aya in the nearby room to begin crying out. “Ko-kun, that’s a lie!”

Kosuke looked over at his lawyer, who rose an eyebrow at her. “Is it, Ms. Yamada? Can you prove that your daughter is, in fact, Mr. Matsuo’s legitimate daughter?”

In a flash, Yui reached over and grasped Kosuke’s hands on the table, leaning over with a desperate look in her eyes. “Please, Ko-kun! Believe me! Aya is your daughter! I swear it! I never cheated on you with anyone!”

“Such assertions are rather pointless, Ms. Yamada, as we have recovered evidence that you did, in fact, engage in an illicit affair with Mr. Matsuo’s father,” Kosuke’s lawyer countered, retrieving another folder and placing it on the table. “While most of it is, admittedly, circumstantial, the paternity test alone confirms it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

Yui stared at the lawyer, then at Kosuke, in a raging panic that felt more delicious to him than any climax he’d ever enjoyed during sex with her. The look of utter terror on her face as she recognized that every avenue of escape was being cut off by his attorney was something he only wished he’d caught on video to memorialize forever.

“I…I…”

“Given the torrid circumstances of this affair, and the fact that it was discovered after my client’s father’s accident, whereupon my client was forced to care for him, we will also be suing for damages from yourself and the remainder of your partner’s estate.”

Which, after weeks of caring for him, had dwindled quite fast given the cost of the necessary medications and trips to the hospital. Combined with the fact that Yui herself had never actually opened her own bank account after their marriage – rather unwisely, to boot – this meant that Yui was facing a future of financial ruin.

And, just to make sure Yui never got a moment to breathe, Kosuke nodded at his attorney, who brought out the final big guns.

“We have also secured a court order for you to vacate the premises, given that this house is in my client’s name, and an injunction that, for now, temporarily grants my client full custody over his half-sister until the court makes its final ruling.”

“W-What?! On what grounds?!”

“That your poor moral character and impending lack of financial assets or home make you an unfit mother.”

Yui could only stare in horror as Kosuke’s lawyer tore her life to shreds with legal document after legal document. By the time he was done, she was practically catatonic as she stared at all the folders and files before her on the table.

“My client has given you one hour to remove yourself from the premises, following which court officers will be mandated to forcibly evict you.”

Kosuke stared Yui down as the lawyer finished his part in this drama and, together, they watched as Kosuke’s soon-to-be ex-wife quietly and tearfully processed what was happening to her.

After a few minutes of staring, though, the lawyer excused himself and Kosuke thanked him for his services before returning to the kitchen, where Yui remained staring at the documents.

In hindsight, he was glad he’d chosen to put his father in his room for the duration of this meeting. That way, Yui would be completely cornered, mentally, and would have nothing to inspire her to fight back.

After watching her for a few seconds, though, Kosuke went to his half-sister’s room and, smiling took her in his arms and soothed her into ceasing her cries. Once she had, he carried her back out to the kitchen, softly bouncing her in his secure grip, admiring her cute little face.

It was horrible of him to admit it, but part of him, initially, had thought to induce a miscarriage in Yui once he’d become set in his desire for revenge. He knew that losing her first child would be devastating to her, after all. However, as he’d thought it through, he’d recognized that the child was blameless for her parents being gigantic assholes – and as much as he hated her parents, he loved the idea of a baby sister.

So he’d let Aya be born. He’d cooed over her in a way that Yui had insisted showed he would make a great dad, even though he’d never seen her as anything more than his sister. He’d even secured some vacation to help care for Aya and Yui had gushed over how dedicated he was as a parent – never realizing that he’d done it partially to gain the needed evidence that he was just as much a caregiver for Aya as she was for the courts.

With a self-satisfied smile, then, he took Aya out with him into the kitchen again, smirking at his still catatonic wife.

“You only have fifty minutes left, you know.”

His voice seemed to stun Yui awake, finally, and she whirled in her seat to look at him, freezing at the sight of him holding Aya.

“K-Ko-kun…”

“Aya was kinda mad at how loud you were being,” he said glibly as he continued to bounce his sister in his arms. “I have to admit, my little sister has some powerful lungs!”

“K-Ko-kun, please!”

Kosuke smiled as he cocked his head to the side. “Please, what?”

“She…she’s my daughter…!”

“Yes, she is,” he agreed stroking her face with a finger lovingly. “And my sister.”

He stood there, stroking her tiny cheeks with his finger, prompting a few gurgles, before his shell-shocked wife for a few seconds before raising his gaze back to meet Yui’s.

“She could’ve been our daughter,” he told her flatly. “Proof of our mutual love.”

He glanced over at his father’s room. “But then you had to spread your legs to that thing like a common whore.”

He paused for a moment before smirking at her. “Actually, I take it back – comparing you to a whore disrespects them. Because at least they just do it to get paid.”

Yui flinched at every invective he shot at her. “Y-You were…”

“Hos-pi-ta-li-zed,” Kosuke provided, practically singing every syllable. “And in a coma, to boot. Such a loving and loyal wife – finding solace in her father-in-law’s embrace while her husband is fighting for his life in a hospital bed!”

He walked up to her and glared down fiercely. “A cockroach has a better sense of loyalty than you do, Yui. And that’s why I want you out of my life, and out of Aya’s. There’s nothing garbage like you could possibly provide or teach her of any worth.”

He checked his watch. “And you have forty minutes to get out of my house before the court officer outside throws you out.”

With that said, Kosuke walked away from Yui with Aya in his arms, headed into his room to lay her back down in her crib and watch over her like the protective big brother he aspired to be. He needed only to look at her, squirming in her crib, to know he would fight the world for her. Despite her unfortunate parentage, he vowed to raise her to be a better person than either of her progenitors – and in so doing, shame them both for the subpar parents they were.

Of course, it helped that, all the while he spent time by Aya’s crib, he was regaled to the sobs of his soon-to-be ex-wife and the sound of her packing urgently to leave before she was unceremoniously tossed out.

Yes…today had been a good day.

“Your mother asked to see you.”

“Ugh, pass.”

Kosuke smiled as his baby sister, now sixteen, spread jelly on her toast as they enjoyed their usual breakfast together. Ever since his divorce sixteen years ago, Aya had grown up in his house as he had intended, having minimal if any contact with either of her actual parents – the courts having decided that Kosuke’s case was more than valid with regards to the parental fitness of either his father or Yui.

He still relished the utter look of devastation on her face as the family court had handed down the ruling.

Ever since then, Yui had contacted him several times, practically begging to let her be a part of her daughter’s life. To no avail, as Kosuke’s attorney had done his job beautifully with regards to custodial rights, predicating Yui’s access to Aya on Yui proving financial stability, domestic stability, and proof that she had attended a rather humiliating seminar on proper morals and behavior for adults.

While the last one had been completed, much to Yui’s shame and humiliation, the first two were proving to be difficult for her to prove. The divorce settlement had functionally ruined her and, when Kosuke’s father passed away due to a heart attack once he heard from his own son what he’d done to Yui and him with regards to Aya, Yui was left with none of his estate because most of it was used to settle outstanding debts and the rest went to Kosuke and Aya as his children.

Kosuke had never wanted to kiss another man as much as when his attorney handed him the court ruling granting him his father’s remaining estate.

Since then, Yui had apparently struggled to find home or work. Her parents did let her return home briefly before the shame of their daughter’s scandal forced them to ask her to leave while their attention diverted towards being apologetic towards Kosuke and showering their other children with attention and support. Without parental assistance, Yui had no choice but to opt for part time work and lower-income housing, which effectively disqualified her from visitation or contact rights unless Kosuke desired otherwise.

And he always made a big show of asking Aya, whom he’d brought up to understand that her mother was a cheating slut who wanted to use her as a way to get out of her impoverished status.

“We have parent-teachers meetings coming up, though,” Aya informed him between bites of her toast. “Should I tell the teach you’re coming again this time?”

Kosuke smiled as he flipped the page on his newspaper. “Of course. Anything for my baby sis.”

He glanced over the top of his newspaper to see her smiling to herself, giving him a pleased and satisfied feeling that, in Aya’s heart at least, he was the only real parental figure she cared for despite being his little sister.

“By the by, are you still seeing that coworker?” she asked as she switched to drinking her juice. He lowered his newspaper to look at her askance.

“Yukiko?” Kosuke asked.

“She’s the one in finance, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, yeah.”

Kosuke chuckled. “I am, yeah. Why?”

Aya smirked at him. “Third date, right?” she asked lightly, waggling her eyebrows. “Need me to vacate the premises for the night? Maybe get soundproof headphones?”

Kosuke snorted in amusement. “Aya, if and when I do decide to get down with the no-pants-dance with my date, rest assured I will give you proper prior notice.”

“Please do – I’m not keen on hearing my brother get busy!”

Kosuke chuckled again before leaning on the table and waggling his own eyebrows at her. “And you? Anyone caught your eye at school?”

She blew out air and shot him an utterly disinterested look. “Nah,” she admitted. “I have to admit, some of the girls in my class are pretty cute, but nothing pinging on the gaydar yet.”

Kosuke smiled comfortingly at her, patting her hand. “Give it time, Aya. Just make sure you know who they are when they come.”

Aya nodded firmly at him, recognizing the implicit warning. “I will. And ditto regarding that Yukiko chick. Need me to stalk her around? See what she’s really like?”

Kosuke laughed. “No need!” he told her between chuckles. “But I appreciate the thought.”

This was it, Kosuke realized. This exact sort of family environment is what he’d once craved to have with Yui – a lighthearted meal around the kitchen table where everyone mutually respected and loved each other. A scene of peace and stability.

No cheating wives, no asshole fathers, no raging hatred…just peace and love and respect and stability.

And now, finally, he had it.

…Revenge had helped, too, he supposed.

Chapter 18: Nami's Corner

Chapter Text

Calling Nami’s Corner a bar was generous, in her opinion.

If anything, the establishment that she’d inherited from her folks was more of a hole-in-the-wall that served alcohol and some select dishes made to complement said booze and ensure that her clientele didn’t pass out outright or become a major hindrance.

Still, it was her bar, and Nami was – if not proud – then protective of it.

“Two beers, Nami!”

“Two beers, comin’ up!” she said, the cigarette in her mouth switching sides as she poured two more beers from tap and then slid them over to her awaiting patrons. “Careful, Keigo – you’re gettin’ real close to the cut-off!”

Keigo, one of the baker’s dozen of regular patrons who frequented her bar due to it being the only bar in the community, laughed uproariously, making his beer belly flop a bit and his beard shiver with the act.

“Gods, you nag me more than me wife, Nami! Lay off, will ya?!”

Nami smirked, switching her cigarette to the other side now. “I will when I know you’re not going to end up on my floor again, you drunken lout!”

That set off another wave of laughter as she moved away to clean the couple of dirty glasses she still had pending by the washbasin. Other bars, more grandiose bars, would’ve probably had another bartender or waitstaff on hand to help her out, but with the community’s total population numbering at about 200 at best, her total clientele never reached the point where she needed the help.

Plus, it cut down on costs and allowed her to maintain that personal touch her patrons enjoyed.

“Oi, Nami! How ‘bout some cabbage and edamame for us?”

“Alright, alright, gimme a sec.”

She quickly went over to the fridge and grabbed the needed ingredients before quickly setting up the requested bar snacks. The great thing about being a bar in the rural countryside? Great, natural ingredients at dirt cheap prices.

Of course, every day had its troubles, and Nami’s Corner hadn’t been without its incidents over its lifetime. Her parents had dealt with more than the occasional mean drunk – and farmers made for mean drunks – and she, too, had more than a couple of times had to deal with the occasional patron – usually an out-of-towner – who got too fresh with her or got too drunk to know better. Her trusty metal bat, farmer’s physique, and the protection of her patrons usually resolved these incidents quite quickly, though.

Today, though, it didn’t seem she’d be that lucky – as none of those methods could really help you deal with an emotional problem.

“Nami!”

Looking up from the table she was serving, her eyes widened momentarily in surprise at who she was seeing at her door. “Mayu?”

Seeing her old school friend brought up a well of emotions in Nami. Last she’d heard, her closest female friend had opted to go to the big city for college – at the behest of that idiot Asahi, to boot – and since then…nada.

That is, until…

“It’s been so long!”

Nami flinched back as Mayu practically charged at her, clearly hoping to hug her or something. But…

“What…what’re you doing here?” she managed to ask, eyes flitting about hoping for something—anything to serve as an excuse to put some distance.

“I came here to see you, silly!” Mayu said, clearly oblivious to Nami’s discomfort. “I need to talk to you!”

“Nami, another beer!”

Thanking the gods of debauchery that drunks were oblivious to every social cue under heaven, she quickly turned to look at said patron and called out, “Comin’ right up!” before turning back to Mayu. “Look, I’m a bit busy right now. You’ll have to wait until closing time.”

Mayu stared at her, somewhat perplexed. “Can’t you take a break? What about your employees?”

Somewhat amazed by how oblivious her friend seemed to be at the fact that this was a one-woman operation that wouldn’t be able to afford another employee, Nami shook her head. “It’s just me. So if you want to wait, take a seat and order something. Otherwise, you’ll need to wait until I’m free – and I don’t know when that’ll be.”

That was true enough. Bar owners like herself rarely got a day to be truly off unless they deliberately chose to shut down for the day. That being said, she wasn’t so hard up on cash she couldn’t afford closing early, but at the same time didn’t want to miss up on the opportunity to gather her thoughts and emotions.

In any case, Mayu did as Nami had said and took a seat, asking for water – earning her some amused chuckles and looks from Nami’s patrons, as well as an eyeroll from Nami herself – while Nami got to work.

And she was glad she did. The flow of work managed to calm her down and brought back her easygoing personality just as she’d hoped. She served drinks and dishes, bantered with her patrons, beat a few at drinking games (on their tab, of course), and casually rejected the rote dozen of marriage proposals her drunken patrons offered her in good humor – it was all just fun, after all, as she knew her patrons better than they knew themselves at this point probably. After all, regular patrons – particularly in places like this town – tended to rely on their bartender as a town psychologist, so she’d had plenty of time to give counsel and help her neighbors with their ills.

It was only at about 11 PM that she issued the last call, knowing that the inevitable had to come one way or another. Still, the day’s profits hadn’t been bad, and despite the grumblings of a few of her patrons, they all left in good cheers, leaving Nami finally alone with Mayu, who had taken to reading something and chatting on her phone as she waited.

Sighing, Nami resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible before she did the books. Otherwise, she’d be too distracted.

“Alright,” she said as she approached Mayu’s table and sat down opposite her. “You’ve waited long enough and let me get on with work, which I’m thankful for. So, what’s up?”

Mayu put away her phone as she smiled radiantly at her. “Oh, it was nothing! I just didn’t know you were working on your own here!” she said, looking around. “Wasn’t this place your parents’? How are they?”

Nami switched her cigarette’s side. “Dead. Last year. Car crash.”

Mayu stared at her, gaping, for a whole five seconds before she rallied. “Oh…Oh! I’m…I’m so sorry!” she quickly said. “I…I didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I did,” Nami countered calmly, leaning back into her chair. “Sent you a text, left a voicemail. After that, I just figured your big city lifestyle made you forget your roots.”

Mayu flinched. “I…”

Nami waved it away dismissively. “S’alright. I get it. Won’t lie and say I wasn’t mad back then, but friends drift apart all the time. I know it wasn’t personal.”

Mayu flushed, looking down at the table ashamed. “I’m still…sorry.”

Nami shrugged. “It’s in the past. So, why’re you here?”

Whatever confidence Mayu had before was visibly gone now, as Nami expected it would. Which narrowed down the possible topics she’d imagined her estranged friend would bring up after so long.

“I…I feel silly saying this now…”

“Spit it out already. Otherwise, I’m heading over to the bar to finish closing up.”

Mayu visibly shrunk in her seat. “I’m…I’m getting married, Nami.”

“Congrats.”

Perhaps it was the absolutely flat way she’d delivered it, or perhaps it was something else, but Mayu flinched at Nami’s response.

“And…and, well…As my closest female friend…I, uh…”

“You want me to be your maid of honor?” Nami asked as she again switched her cigarette’s side.

Silently, Mayu nodded.

Well, that confirmed a lot of things for Nami, and made her response all the easier.

“No.”

Mayu’s head snapped up to look at her, finally, and she could see the tears welling up in her estranged friend’s eyes.

“W-Why not?!” she asked, reaching for Nami’s hands, which she withdrew quickly. “Nami, I swear, I didn’t kno—!”

“It ain’t about that,” Nami countered calmly, crossing her arms under her chest. “Well, not entirely about that.”

“Then what?!”

Nami sighed as she rubbed the back of her head, causing her tied back hair to come slightly loose of the headband keeping it in a functional ponytail. “The maid of honor should be someone you’re close to, Mayu. Your closest – hell, your best friend. I ain’t yours. And you aren’t mine.”

“That’s…that’s not true!” Mayu protested. “We’ve known each other all our lives, Nami! How can you say that?!”

Nami fixed her with a stern glare. “Because the Mayu I knew wouldn’t have kept her friends in the dark for a year,” she replied flatly. “And definitely wouldn’t be ghosting her closest childhood friend with a phone call like you were dumping some one-night stand.”

Mayu was visibly stunned by her words, as well as stung given the tears now flowing down her cheeks. Nami knew she didn’t need to elaborate on the second part of her reprimand – Mayu had been on silent with everyone from the town for a year, but only one of their circle of friends had been treated that specific way.

“I…”

Nami sighed. “Drop it, Mayu,” she said. “My answer’s no and I ain’t changing it. Go back to the big city, get married, pop out kids however much you want, but don’t drag me into your messed up circumstances or make me choose sides among our friends – because after everything you’ve done, you won’t like the result.”

With that said, she pulled back her chair and stood up, fixing her ponytail as she again switched her cigarette’s side. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to ask you to please leave as we’re closed, and I need to finish up here.”

It was perhaps a bit cold of her, but as far as she was concerned, the quicker this band-aid got ripped off, the better. Plus, it was a bit rich of Mayu to just assume she could behave the way she had and expect everyone to just run with it.

She heard the door to the bar open and close by the time she reached the bar and sighed as she rubbed her head. Gods, this was going to be a pain in her ass, wasn’t it? Part of her wondered if perhaps she should’ve just taken the offer to be maid of honor to avoid any further hassle, but honestly, such a course hadn’t sat well with her.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

“Do you know who I am?”

Nami cursed her past self for tempting fate.

And then she cursed the good-looking dude who’d glared at her patrons into leaving the bar at 7 PM, ruining what would’ve been another normal, profitable night. And because of that, she had her cellphone out and behind the counter, recording going, as she answered him.

“Right now, you’re the asshole who’s obstructing my business,” she replied flatly as she slapped her drying towel over her shoulder and leaned on the bar to glower at him. “But if you’re looking for a real answer, I’m guessing you’re Mayu’s asshat fiancé. Congrats, by the way.”

“I think I’d believe you more if you didn’t sound like you hated my guts,” the guy replied calmly as he took a seat at the counter.

“Sorry, but lying’s not my forte. You want someone to lie to you about what a charming guy you are, go back to your fiancée and her folks. Door’s right there,” she thumbed in the door’s general direction very pointedly.

“I’d rather have a talk with you,” he countered. “My fiancée came back in tears yesterday night. Said you’d turned her down for maid of honor.”

“That’s right.”

“Said some words had been exchanged.”

“All civil, no lies.”

“Be that as it may,” he actually sounded annoyed now, much to Nami’s gratification. “I’d like for you to change your mind about her offer.”

“No.”

Her quick dismissal seemed to catch him flatfooted, as he just stared at her incredulously. “You haven’t even heard my offer.”

“Don’t care.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, do you not know who I am?” he asked.

“Second verse, same as the first – an asshat obstructing my business.”

“My name is Totomi Akira,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Good for you.”

“…of the Totomi chain of hotels?”

“Cool.”

“My father is the CEO!”

“Must be nice.”

He finally slapped the counter irritably. “Stop pretending!” he snapped. “You know full well what that means!”

Nami stared him down unflinchingly. “It means, you rich daddy’s boy with no functional life skills who’s been silver spooned all your life, that I. don’t. care.”

He glowered in a way that told her he was used to intimidating others quite effectively. Clearly, he’d never had to face off with drunken farmers who didn’t know their own strength. “I could ruin this filthy hole in the wall with a phone call.”

She shrugged. “Do it,” she dared him. “Bank’s useless to you – no mortgage on the bar thanks to my dead parents’ life insurance. Hit up my distributors and I’ll just sell the place and retire early. Own the deed to my house, too. It’s the countryside, so most of my utilities can be sourced easily if you try to put pressure on my providers. Shut me down anyway and you’ll have every farmer from here to the next county over pissed off that you closed their favorite watering hole. You’ll probably have to move your in-laws out of here for their own safety once the word spreads. Same if anything happens to me.”

His glower intensified. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Nami asked calmly. “Unlike Mayu, I didn’t abandon my roots. I didn’t ghost everyone for a year and then came back expecting the whole town to kiss her ass because she managed to land some rich daddy’s boy.” She switched her cigarette’s side. “So get lost, daddy’s boy. I ain’t changing my mind.”

His glare didn’t falter, but he stayed where he was. Mayu’s desire to have Nami as maid of honor was clearly making him stay against his preferred course of action.

“…I’ll pay you a million and a half yen.”

“Nope.”

“Five million.”

“Still nope.”

“Ten million!”

“You could offer to buy me a palace in Kyoto and I’d still say no,” she replied flatly.

“Damnit, why?!”

“’Cause you two are liars,” she replied coldly, leaning forward on the counter to match his glare. “I grew up with that idiot you’re marrying. I knew her better than anyone else. And I knew who she liked before she even became aware of it herself. And from this conversation, I got a good idea what kinda person you are, and the math ain’t addin’ up regarding your whole relationship. So that tells me you’re both bad news.”

He grit his teeth. “This is about that boy…Asahi.”

“Keep his name out of your mouth,” Nami snapped. “But thanks for confirming things for me. I’m guessing Mayu didn’t fall in love with you out of the blue. I’m guessing you didn’t court her or date her before you two fucked. And I’m guessing you used who you are to your advantage at every occasion. Maybe pressured her? Showered her with a lifestyle she wouldn’t dream of having otherwise?”

To his credit, he returned the stare, but the ever-so-slight flinch in his shoulder – noticed only thanks to a lifetime of experience learning gambling tells from her parents’ patrons and now hers – confirmed what she wanted to know.

“And then she was too naïve to resist. Figured she was locked in now that she was too ashamed to turn back after losing her first time to someone who wasn’t her crush. I’ve met and seen girls like Mayu all my life, shithead. The only difference is your bank account is bigger than those other manipulative assholes’.”

“I’m not…she chose me.”

“Kinda had to, though, didn’t she?” she sneered at him. “Put her in a position where it was that or be a poor, single mother isolated in the big bad city who’s ex is some rich dumbass who could take her kid away. But Mayu’s too nice to think of it that way – probably rationalized it as love or some dumb shit like that.”

He glowered at her but finally got up from his stool. “You’re a vile woman,” he hissed. “And I’m relieved you won’t be attending the wedding.”

Nami snickered. “Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, daddy’s boy. Who knows? Maybe you can use some of that spare cash you’re flaunting to wipe away the tears of the whoopin’ you just got.”

Nami grinned as he stormed away, slamming the door to the bar behind him. Judging from the sound of outraged yells and shouting outside, some of her patrons had lingered behind – probably to make sure she was fine, the sweethearts – and took offense at his behavior.

Well, she didn’t want anything too untoward happening, so she made her way to the door and opened it, finding Mayu’s fiancé trying to beat a hasty retreat as her overprotective patrons blocked his way to his very fancy car.

“Still think I’m bluffing, shithead?” she called out, prompting everyone to turn and look at her.

The fiancé’s glower honestly added years to her life, especially once the patrons started laughing at his expense. Still, she didn’t need it to escalate any further.

“Alright, alright – show’s over, boys. Let the city boy go. Bar’s open!”

Grinning at the delighted whoops of her clientele, she sauntered back inside as her loyal customers followed, happy to know she’d won that particular confrontation. Hopefully, that was the end of that.

“Nami! We need to talk, little girl!”

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered under her breath as Mayu’s mother stormed into the bar the very next day. Honestly, she was cursed. That was the only explanation. Maybe if she’d just ignored Mayu on the playground all those years ago…

Nah, that wouldn’t have worked. They’d already been introduced to each other as babies. And went to the same school right through high school.

The curse of living in a small town.

Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and tried to gather her mental strength as Mayu’s mother charged her bar counter with violence in her eyes.

This was going to be a long day.

“Nami, my dear, I know things are…difficult right now between you and Mayu, but…”

Her father? Really? Mayu had enlisted her father to come talk to her? It hadn’t been enough that she’d already said no to her, insulted her fiancé to another dimension, and shut down her mother in quick succession, she now sent her own father to the chopping block?

Gods, that girl had balls.

“Hey, hey, hey…so you’re the chick who’s been causing trouble for our big bro, eh?”

Nami would’ve never believed Mayu and her fiancé to be this dumb if she hadn’t seen it for herself.

But, sure enough, there they were – three wannabe punks who’d strolled into her bar on a Friday night. While the baseball game was on. And it was happy hour.

Suffice to say, the bar was packed – or as packed as a small, countryside bar could get.

And sure enough, these three contestants for the Darwin Award strolled right up to her counter and immediately grabbed a drink that wasn’t theirs, drank it down in one shot, and proceeded to smash the empty glass onto the floor in what she presumed they thought was an intimidating fashion.

“Word is that you don’t want to take our big bro’s generous offer. We’re here to make you reconsider…or else,” the leader sneered before leering at her – as though only just realizing that Nami was quite attractive in her own right just that moment. “And maybe we’ll be nice enough to play with you after.”

Nami stared at the three idiots flatly, somewhat stunned by their absolute lack of situational awareness. Behind them, all of her attending patrons had turned at the sound of the glass smashing and were now watching them intimidate (or try to) their favorite bartender. Not a single one of them sported anything other than a dangerous glare.

And angry farmers were dangerous.

Of course, that meant Nami was, too.

Reaching down under her bar for her bat, she slammed down the head of it onto her prep counter as she faced the trio down.

“You boys wanna repeat that?” she asked dangerously. “’Cause I think you ain’t gonna like your odds here.”

“There a problem here, Nami?”

The trio turned to see two men approach wearing the baseball team’s uniform, prompting a dangerous smile from Nami.

“I dunno, officer Nakamura,” she said faux-sweetly as she turned her attention back to the suddenly paling city punks. “Is there a problem here, shitheads?”

Sure enough both men produced their badges at the now-sweating trio. “N-No…no problem h-here,” the leader said between audible gulps.

That didn’t seem to satisfy the officers, though, who glowered at them. “Maybe you three should come to the station with us anyway, see if everything’s really alright,” Officer Nakamura said flatly, making it clear with his tone that this was not a suggestion.

“Y-Yes, officer…”

“Nami,” the other officer greeted, nodding his head before accompanying Nakamura and the trio out of the bar.

She nodded back at him before turning to the interested audience and motioning at the muted TV hanging in the corner. “Ey, put the sound back on! Game’s just gettin’ good!”

Whoops and cheers met her words and the night was back in full swing.

“Nami, we need to talk!”

Nami stared at the insane couple standing outside her front door like the crazy people they were for a moment. Then she walked out of her house, turned to the left, and walked away towards the yard, where she’d accumulated a stockpile of woodcuts to chop into logs for the boiler. Today was her off day from the bar and she wasn’t about to let some lunatics’ wedding delusions get in her way of getting through her chores.

“Get off my property,” was all she replied.

“Nami!”

She ignored them as she walked over to her axe and hefted it onto her shoulder, turning back only to glower at them and successfully making them flinch.

“Get. Off. My. Property,” she repeated slowly as she placed a woodcut on the awaiting stump and raised her axe. “I have nothing else to say to you two.”

“Nami, you’re being unreasonable!”

SLAM.

With a single swing, the cut split into two neat pieces, falling to either side. She huffed a breath, blew some strands of her hair out of her eyes, and reached over for another woodcut.

“I am free to do as I please, and I want nothing to do with either of you,” she said simply. “Now, leave me alone, go back to your fancy big city, and get married, kill each other, fuck each other, have another kid – I don’t really give a shit. As long as you don’t involve me.”

“Nami, please—”

“Mayu, enough. It’s clear she doesn’t consider you a friend.”

“And yet I’m still a better person than you, shithead,” Nami said, not able to resist getting another dig in as she slammed her axe down, cutting off whatever snarky response he’d wanted to say with the sound of wood splintering.

“Listen, you—!”

Her axe rose again. “What?” she dared him. “You what? Lest we forget – you’re on my property, dumbass. And I think your posse told you how it went the last time someone tried to intimidate me.”

He froze mid-step, but the glower told her enough, prompting a derisive snort.

“Yeah, thought so,” she said before resuming her wood cutting.

“Intimidate?” Mayu asked.

The brief look of panic in the entitled rich douchebag’s eyes were enough for Nami to feel like she’d gained another couple years of life.

“It’s nothing – she’s exaggerating,” he told his naïve fiancée, who suddenly looked quite uncertain. “We should go, Mayu. If this wom—if Nami doesn’t want to be your maid of honor, I have a few cousins who’d be happy to have that honor.”

“Yeah, Mayu – listen to the manipulative asshat!” Nami taunted as she watched him practically shepherd her away. “Get some cousin to do that thankless job!”

Clicking her tongue disapprovingly at the couple’s antics, she pushed them out of mind and returned to her work. That timber pile wasn’t going to refill itself!

“Why, Nami? Why?”

Nami sighed as she leaned over the counter and stared down at her childhood friend. “That’s it, Asahi. You’re cut off.”

The other half of that dysfunctional childhood friendship she’d had had finally reached his limit in terms of unresolved personal grief at Mayu’s marriage to the douchebag supreme. Well, that, plus the news that the couple had welcomed another child – likely conceived while they’d been here last to announce their wedding.

Smartly, they’d decided to hold it in the big city after the couple’s antics last time made them virtually persona non grata. Even now, Mayu’s parents tended to spend more and more time in the city than at the town given that Mayu’s now-husband had burned quite a few bridges.

Last she’d heard, the town council had even rejected his peace proposal to sponsor and build a hotel in the community. Which made sense, considering there wasn’t enough of a workforce present to neither build it nor staff it – and the area wasn’t “tourist-y” enough to draw enough visitors to make it financially viable.

Plus, the rich douchebag had made the locals a bit more wary of out-of-towners given his behavior and the trio he’d sent after Nami.

Of course, the flip side to that happy news was that Asahi had become practically unbearable in turn. Still pining over Mayu, her friend had started frequenting the bar more and more often to drown his sorrows – which was nice for business, but bad for her patience.

“Need me to call his folks for a pickup, Nami?” one of her other patrons asked as Asahi kept his face planted onto the counter.

She eyed her friend for a moment before shaking her head. “Nah. Thanks, though. I’ll see this bum back to his place after I close. Folks don’t deserve to hear more of his whinin’.”

That prompted a laugh, but Nami was genuinely concerned for her friend. Asahi had always been rather straightlaced and as traditional as you could get. It was one of the major reasons the whole Mayu thing had blown up in his face. But although she felt that whole debacle was partially on his own head, it still didn’t sit right with her that her friend should be this devastated over a girl who’d thought so little of their friendship that she’d basically ghosted him with a final phone call and no explanation.

So she tolerated his whining, despite the damage to her calm. If nothing else, she was basically the only friend he had left who had the patience to deal with his sadness. Sure, the others would come if he asked, but she knew they were really getting tired of this whole schtick.

Thus, once the night was done and the bar was closed, she hefted him up and helped him walk out the door and into the town streets on their way back to his place.

“…thanks, Nami.”

And of course, that was when he chose to wake up and sober up a little. Because that was just her luck.

“You’re welcome. Again,” she muttered. “At this rate, I’m going to have to buy a car just to drag your drunk ass back to your place.”

He mumbled something unintelligible, prompting her to roll her eyes. He really was quite a mess.

“…URP!”

“Oh, hell no!”

Nami quickly brought him to a planter bush and got out of firing range as he began to puke out the contents of his stomach. She grimaced at the sound of his puking – this was a bad one. Sure enough, aside from making sure he didn’t fall face first into the now-puke-filled bush, she stood there for a solid couple of minutes before he was done dry heaving.

And then watched him as he slid down to his knees and sat on the ground against the planter wall, head against his brought-up knees. Sighing, she took a more comfortable seat next to him, looking up at the dim stars above.

“…I really thought we’d be together,” he eventually mumbled.

Nami nodded slowly. “We all did.”

“…why’d she…choose him…then?”

She sighed deeply. “Because Mayu’s a naïve idiot and that shithead of a husband she has is a rich, manipulative asshole,” she answered him bluntly. She then glanced at him. “And you dropped the ball. That’s why.”

“…Didn’t…”

“You sure did,” she affirmed. “Had any number of chances to confess. She wanted to confess, too, and you knew it – but you never let her. Too much ego in you.”

“…man should confess…that’s…been taught…”

“Like I said, too much ego.”

He was silent for a moment.

“What’d…you’ve done?”

She smirked. “If I’d been in your shoes? Shit, Asahi – if I liked someone that much, I’d have confessed on the spot, dated them as long as they’d need to feel comfortable having sex, then fucked ‘em for as long as possible. Maybe married ‘em if they were the one. Whether I were boy or girl – doesn’t matter. Ain’t no rich douchebag getting a leg up on me!”

Asahi chuckled despite his sadness, which Nami took a victory.

“…Wish…I wish I could be more like…like you…”

“Mean, prickly, and a general pain in the ass?” she snarked.

He chuckled, but sounded like he was about to fall asleep. “Nah…you’re soft…kind…nice to me…strong…”

She faux-preened at the drunken praise. “Keep going—I love to hear how great I am!”

He chuckled weakly again. “…funny…and pretty…”

She froze in place for a moment before snapping her head over to look at him, wondering if he was having her on in retaliation for her sarcasm, but he was dead to the world – snoring, even.

“What the fuck?” she whispered to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up involuntarily.

Well.

Shit.

If there was one advantage to Asahi getting drunk off his ass that night, it was that he’d been so apologetic about it afterwards that he’d offered to help out at her bar free of charge.

Farm boys and their sense of honor and all that.

Which suited her just fine as it meant she could finally not run around all day serving patrons and could actually take a break longer than a couple of minutes.

The downside was that ever since Asahi’s drunken praise, she’d felt a little more self-conscious around him and kept eyeing him for signs that he might be shifting his attention from Mayu to her.

Because, honestly, she didn’t know how to feel about that.

Asahi had never been on her radar. Ever.

Part of it was that, having grown up together, she saw him more as a younger brother who needed to be taken care of because as kind-hearted and traditional as he was, he was also hopelessly naïve and passive. The other big part of it was that ever since they were kids, Asahi had fixated his affection onto Mayu, meaning just as he was never on her radar, Asahi hadn’t been on any other girl’s radar either – and vice versa. It had been common knowledge throughout their generation at school that Asahi was head over heels for Mayu, so don’t bother pursuing him.

Even now, she had to admit that even if that drunken praise for her meant something, it was difficult for her to see him as anything other than the hopeless younger brother figure he’d been all her life.

It wasn’t that she was a prude about it – no, no. She’d entertained some fantasies about him while she was a teenager enduring puberty hormones, sure. But then, she’d entertained such fantasies about an array of guys as well. And she wasn’t shy about her affections since then, either. She’d gone on dates. She’d had sex. One night stands, one and all – just a scratch for a metaphorical itch.

But whether Asahi was interested in her or not, she wasn’t sure how attracted she could be towards him now. Especially after having to carry his drunk ass back home more than a few times and seeing him puke into Mrs. Kimura’s bushes five times.

Well…maybe if he took his shirt off—no! No! Bad, Nami! Work first, fantasizing about farm boys later!

Sighing to herself, she resumed her cleaning while wondering if perhaps this was a sign that she needed to find herself another hook-up soon. Maybe the lack of sex recently had driven her crazy.

Yeah. That was probably it.

That was not it and she cursed the heavens for creating rivers and communities for creating the tradition of gathering for a river dip as recreation.

It’d been a few months since the whole drunken Asahi praise debacle and summer had hit. And with that came the need to cool down, so some genius in their friend group had suggested going for a dip in the nearby river – and of course, being unsound of mind and with the memory of an amnesiac, she’d agreed to go.

Only to find that Asahi without a shirt on was…

Hmm.

Well, it was going to fuel some rather nasty fantasies, alright.

“Damn.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just sayin’! Did he get that fit working for you? ‘Cause if so, do you mind if I sent you Hideo for a couple of months? My boy’s getting a bit flabby!”

Nami glared at Yukiko, one of said friend group. “If you want me to run your boyfriend ragged with work, I’m always happy for the free labor, but otherwise, can we talk about something other than Asahi?”

“Why?” Yukiko asked with a smirk. “Don’t tell me that boy’s not so fine you’d crawl all up that gladly.”

“I…would…not,” Nami lied flatly. Honestly, given the disparity between Asahi’s looks and his personality, it actually made her want to strap him down and tease him mercilessly. She quickly dismissed that fantasy lest she begin drooling openly. “Besides, most of the guys here look like that.”

“I mean, sure,” Yukiko conceded. “But he didn’t used to look like that. Mayu liked ‘im a bit more soft, I think.”

“Good thing for him she’s gone, then,” Nami observed.

“Mm-hmm,” Yukiko hummed her agreement. “Oomph. If I wasn’t so loyal to my Hideo, I tell you, I’d be all over that fine boy like white on rice!”

Nami rolled her eyes as she tried to shut out Yukiko and focus on enjoying the sun’s heat on her. This was as close as they’d all come to tanning on the beach, and she wanted to enjoy it.

“Why don’t you give him a shot?”

She frowned. “Who?”

“You know who, Nami! Asahi!”

She opened her eyes to give Yukiko a flat look. “Do I look desperate to you?”

“Ain’t nothing desperate about wanting to climb that tree, sister.”

“That tree’s still got his head up his own ass pining for some girl who ghosted him,” Nami reminded her before closing her eyes and focusing again on tanning. “And I ain’t no one’s rebound relationship.”

“If you say so,” Yukiko said teasingly. “But, y’know—”

“Yukiko, I swear to God, I will throw you into this river.”

“—I only said give him a shot. Ain’t no one talked about a relationship here but you, sister.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Nami opened her eyes.

“Right.”

Further off, the boys watched as Nami managed to heft Yukiko into a princess carry and flung her into the river despite the other girl’s protesting yells.

Damn it, Yukiko.

There was only one reason Nami could think of that would’ve led to this particular situation, and that was that her friend had cursed her for throwing her into the river. It had to be. There was otherwise no sane reason for which she, Nami – the town’s supreme female badass, always ready with a sharp rebuke and thorny sarcastic quip – would otherwise be in this situation.

She felt the shift next to her and closed her eyes to process her emotions and fantasies of wringing Yukiko’s neck until that damn woman undid whatever curse she’d cast on her.

And then an arm flopped onto her middle and unconsciously grasped at her to draw her closer.

Yes.

She’d slept with Asahi.

Eventually.

God damnit.

In all fairness, they’d both gotten fairly drunk at a party before they’d done the deed, but Nami was sufficiently experienced to know that waking up in her bed with some guy sleeping next to her, both naked, and feeling sticky and with that very telling smell in the air meant only one thing.

They’d had sex.

Well, that, and that she needed to open a goddamned window.

Getting that priority done with quickly, she looked around and realized they’d had their one-night-stand in her apartment above the bar, not his house. Good. That meant she still had control over the situation. Carefully extricating herself from Asahi, who’d left an arm over her as he slept, she got up from her bed and considered the situation.

Was she ashamed of herself?

…Nah.

She was a single woman and he was a single man. No messy infidelity issues for either of them. Nor did she feel sex was shameful, so no worries there.

Did she enjoy it?

That was a little harder to answer – frankly, she couldn’t really remember what all had happened the previous night – they’d gotten hammered at Yukiko’s party. But, all things considered, she wasn’t hurting, there was no sign of discomfort or tell-tale bruising or the like, so she assumed it must’ve gone well – especially given that semi-goofy grin Asahi was sporting every so often as he slept on.

Did she feel betrayed by Asahi for sleeping with her? Or angry?

…Not really?

It wasn’t like he’d been sober and she’d been drunk. They’d both been drunk off their asses. She was sure enough of that because in no universe could Asahi outdrink her! Not to mention that Yukiko would’ve kicked his ass before letting him abscond up to her apartment and not return immediately after under those circumstances.

Which meant her best friend must’ve judged them both to be so out of it that it was safe and fine to let them go up together. Hell, she imagined it must’ve been much more likely for her and Asahi to fall unconscious than to hook up if that was the case.

That left one more question.

Did she hate it?

She glanced down at Asahi as he slept, squatting down to watch him at eye level. He was…ugh.

Fine, he was handsome.

In a boyish, soft farmboy sort of way. No guile, no guard. What you saw was what you got.

And she didn’t hate that. Hell, it made him a hundred times better than so many men she’d met in her lifetime. Or any of the blind dates she’d been on over the years who’d never stopped staring at either her chest, her ass, or her legs.

This moron never did either. Never tried to use his larger frame against her. Never made her uncomfortable or tried to order her around – hell, she was willing to admit that, all things considered, she was probably the initiator of last night’s entertainment!

Fuck.

This felt wrong.

Not in the sense that she hated it. Or him. But in that it felt like she’d taken advantage of a poor, vulnerable, soft boy and, depending on his reaction, that could affect their friendship. And the last thing she wanted to be for Asahi was another mental scar – another Mayu.

She buried her face in her hands for a brief moment before grabbing her things and quietly getting dressed.

She needed to talk to Yukiko.

…and maybe smack her for not stopping her.

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

Nami sighed irritably as she leaned back into her chair. Fortunately, the bar was empty as she’d closed it to clean up after Yukiko’s party.

“I mean, I don’t fuckin’ remember!” she growled. “I was drunk off my ass, Yukiko!”

“I mean, I knew that, but still, I figured…” her friend trailed off before leaning forward to whisper unnecessarily. “…was it that bad, you figure?”

Nami rolled her eyes, leaned forward, and flicked her friend in the forehead. “It could’ve been the most amazing sex in the world and I’d still forget about it if I was blackout drunk!” she said flatly as her friend yelped. “And anyway, that’s not why I called you!”

Yukiko mock glowered at her before sighing and waving at her dismissively. “Yeah, yeah…the whole Asahi drama. Look, sis, it’s simple – so, you two fucked. You’re both single, you needed to get laid, he needed to get laid, and even if you can’t remember how it was, you don’t seem too broken up about it! So what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Nami hissed, “is that Asahi’s not some horndog dickhead who just wanted a quickie or one night stand! He’s decent and if he wants a relationship after this, I don’t know what to do!”

Yukiko seemed about to say something when she paused, eyed her strangely, and leaned forward onto the table between them. “Hol’ up. What’d ya mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean, I don’t know! I really can’t make that clearer!”

“Nami,” her friend said seriously – more seriously than she’d ever seen her in years, honestly. “You’ve always known what to do in these situations. Asahi’s not your first one-night stand. Hell, he wouldn’t even be your first booty call if that had been the situation! And each time, you made it clear to the other side you weren’t lookin’ for more and showed them the door!”

“Asahi’s not…like that. He’s a friend!”

“So was Tatsuo. You still showed him the door every morning,” Yukiko pointed out. “And Iida, too.”

“They’re different.”

“How?”

“We were casual for a while, and then they wanted more. I didn’t. Case closed.”

“You slept with Asahi once, girl,” her friend pointed out. “And as far as we know, he’s still sleeping off the booze and sex upstairs, so you haven’t even had a talk about it.”

“…So?”

“So how do you know what that boy wants?” Yukiko asked. “And even if you did, what do you care? Just let him down easy and get him out of your apartment. You’re not looking for a relationship, remember?”

A pregnant pause ensued.

“…or has that changed?”

Nami stayed silent as she stared at her friend in shock. It was like she’d been struck by lightning as she finally cottoned onto what Yukiko was implying and her own emotional turmoil came into uncomfortable focus.

Yukiko was right – she’d dumped and moved on from one-night stands and casual relationships before with ease. Yet, one night with Asahi was making her worry? Why? It was as simple as her friend made it out to be – just let him down easy, call it a mistake, and move on!

It wouldn’t be like Mayu, who’d just ghosted him out of shame. She’d explain, make it simple and easy for Asahi to move on, and their lives would go on as before. As friends.

As…friends.

…Right?

Fuck Yukiko.

That was the only thought running through Nami’s mind as she finally managed to sit Asahi down for a heart-to-heart.

Only to find out that she didn’t have the heart to have this heart-to-heart.

And the lovable moron in front of her didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

Lovable? Fuck me. Yukiko’s got me thinking weird shit now.

“Umm…Nami? What’s this about?”

She slammed an irritated fist on the table, causing him to squeak in fright and cower from her. She instantly regretted the action as she held up a hand.

“It’s…it’s not about you—” Yes, the fuck it is—SHUT UP. “Well, not entirely about you.”

“Uh…okay? Should…Should I apologize?” he asked. “I…I mean, if I did something bad while drunk, then—”

“NO!” she exclaimed, causing him to squeak and cower again. “I mean, yes—but also, no. FUCK!”

What is going on?! I’ve fucked and dumped guys before – why is this so fucking hard?!

“Look,” she said, slapping her hand onto the table between them. She was so thankful she’d closed the bar for this, honestly. “How…how much do you remember about the party?”

“Uh…not much, to be honest. It kinda gets fuzzy after the fourth shot.”

Yeah, that tracked. Her own memories went haywire after the tenth.

“So…you don’t remember that you…that I…that we…” she asked leadingly.

He tilted his head in confusion.

“WE FUCKED!” she shouted suddenly, her face blushing furiously red as she finally admitted it.

Asahi’s eyes bulged at the revelation. “W-What?! We did?!”

She stared at him. “You woke up in my bed naked, dumbass! What did you think happened?!”

“I…I don’t know! I…I figured…I don’t know, okay?!” he said in a panic as he shot to his feet, pacing around like a lost, huggable, kissable puppy.

Fuck. You. Yukiko.

“Well, we did,” she said, taking a deep breath to calm her own nerves. “And based on how my room smells, not just once.”

Okay, so Asahi blushing was the most fucking cute thing she’d ever seen. She refrained from slapping the shit out of herself for thinking that.

He then bowed deep at her. “I’m sorry!” he apologized.

She raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“It was wrong of me to take advantage of you in a drunken state!”

Nami snorted. “Honey, my memories went haywire at ten shots. If anything, I think I should be apologizing to you for taking advantage of you. We both know you’re the lightweight here.”

He blushed, prickling her need to keep teasing.

“Besides, I think I know myself pretty well to know who was on top last night – and, no offense, but it weren’t you.”

Getting him to blush really was proving quite addictive.

…

Ah, fuck it.

“Unfortunately, I don’t seem to remember anything about it. And you don’t either,” she noted airily. He shook his head, prompting her to get back on her feet, reach down to his collar as he continued his bow, and pulled him up so he’d stare at her in the eyes. She had to stop herself from licking her lips. “So what’cha say we go for another round and remember it this time?”

Asahi gaped at her like a fish out of water, but his lack of protest or resistance as she pulled him up suggested enough for her to reach for his face and pull him in for a kiss, which he accepted after a moment’s pause – his big, firm, farmer boy hands coming to rest on her upper back as he drew her closer to him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asked softly after they broke the kiss for some air.

She eyed him with a wry smile. “Asahi, if you don’t take me to my room upstairs and fuck me silly in the next five minutes, I’m going for my bat.”

Needing no further prompting, he swept her up off the ground into his arms, prompting her to give a somewhat delighted giggle, as she allowed him to take her upstairs for Round…well, who knew at this point?

“Lookin’ good, sister!”

“Of course I do,” Nami replied cockily as Yukiko rolled her eyes. Nami twirled in place, allowing the bottom of her mermaid dress to fan out briefly. “God, I love this dress.”

“I’m telling you – your mom had great taste,” Yukiko insisted, looking over to the other girls present. “Aren’t I right?”

“Hell yeah, sister.”

“I’d kill to have a dress that nice!”

Nami smirked. “Fist-fight or weapons?” she dared cockily. The girls laughed at her playful provocation.

“As if anyone’s stupid enough to fight you!” Yukiko said.

“Well, you-know-who might’ve.”

Nami pulled a face. “New rule – no mentioning Asahi’s ex while I’m showing off my bridal gown.”

Yukiko raised a glass of champagne. “Hear, hear!”

A cheer swept through the group as they continued the bachelorette’s party. It had been four months since she and Asahi had hooked up and subsequently started dating, and the big lug had been the most attentive, devoted, loyal boyfriend she could’ve asked for. If he wasn’t at the bar helping her, he was at her house cleaning or cutting logs or doing anything to make himself useful and her life a little easier. Some of the guys in their age group had called him a simp – for which Nami had brought out the bat and demanded he repeat himself – but neither Asahi nor Nami really minded. She never thought of taking advantage of him despite how obsequious he was towards her, and he seemed to find happiness in feeling useful.

So it worked out.

If she had anything to complain about, it was that he’d ended up being really passive about progressing their relationship. So much so that when she realized it might take the sun imploding for him to muster up the courage to propose, she’d done it instead. She’d invited him over to her place, they’d had dinner, and then they’d settled in her garden to star-watch…and she’d popped the question.

Admittedly, she’d been worried he’d refuse. One of the biggest sticking points between him and Mayu had been that he wanted to be the one to advance their relationship “as the guy” – only to never actually do it. Now, she feared that ugly habit might rear its head.

She needn’t have worried.

Losing Mayu had evidently kicked him in the ass enough to get Asahi to do some desperately-needed soul-searching – and the result was the realization that he’d been too stubborn in his biases to appreciate the people he loved the way they were. So, when Nami got on one knee and proposed, there was no hesitation in him as he accepted on the spot.

Of course, the news that the town’s preeminent barkeep and watering hole owner was getting married set off social fireworks. Within less than a day, maybe three quarters of the town had visited her home or pub to congratulate them – with the noticeable exception of Mayu’s folks.

In fact, the only sign she ever got that they were aware of her impending nuptials with Asahi ended up being a heartbroken email from Mayu asking why she wasn’t being invited to her wedding.

An email she promptly deleted while muttering something about delusional women needing fucking therapy.

As far as Nami was concerned, Mayu had relegated herself to her past and was no longer a part of her or Asahi’s lives. And as they were about to get married, Nami wanted to make sure that Asahi – the big, lovable oaf that he was – got to be as happy as she could make him without that particular specter of the past hanging overhead.

So, no – Mayu wasn’t invited to the wedding.

She wasn’t even informed when, months after the wedding, Nami let the rest of the town know she was pregnant with the newly married couple’s first child.

Nor when said child, a little girl named Kaori, was born.

Nami smiled as she watched her husband play with their young daughter behind the bar as she served her patrons their drinks. She could scarcely believe how much her life had changed ever since the day Mayu had fucked off to become some rich daddy’s boy trophy wife. This bar, which she’d once resigned herself to tend to in solitude ever since her parents had passed, now seemed so much fuller of life thanks to her husband and daughter.

And, for the first time in quite some time, Nami finally felt not just satisfied, but happy as well.

Chapter 19: Affirmation (Part 2)

Chapter Text

“K-Kido-kun?”

“Honda-san?”

The two of them stared at each other in surprise and uncertainty as a klaxon went off announcing the imminent start of the college entrance exams.

“W-What are you doing here?!”

It had been a year since Yuuto Kido had moved out of his family home and transferred schools. At first, the transition had hit him hard due to his inconsiderate neighbor who insisted on having the loudest possible sex almost every night.

That had all come to a stop thanks to the man Yuuto considered his closest male friend – Naotsugu Maeda, or just Nao. A giant of a man – 2 meters tall easy and built like a tank – who’d come from the rural countryside to the “big city” out of wanderlust. For the years he’d lived in the apartment complex, he’d been sort of the go-to guy for residents who needed help one way or another.

In Yuuto’s case, Nao had been the one to shut his neighbor up and gotten them to move out once he made it clear that the sort of loud-ass romps they were used to were unwanted in the building. In the final months of his second school year – once he’d moved out of his hellish home after he realized the psychological torture he was enduring there wouldn’t end – Nao had been the guy he’d leaned on, gradually becoming closer and closer friends with the older man, who in turn took it upon himself to be his older brother figure – since, by Nao’s own words, Yuuto’s actual siblings “weren’t worth shit.”

He credited Nao for getting him out of his profound depression and putting his hellish home life into context. Where he’d initially regretted to some extent moving out, believing it to be a mistake once he realized he had no one to lean onto, Nao had quickly disabused him of such notions and helped him grow into a confident young man that was able to pick up the slack once Nao, at the end of the summer, announced he would be leaving Japan to indulge his wanderlust.

It'd sucked, but by then, Nao and his friends had helped Yuuto recover his dignity and self-confidence – even giving him a makeover! – just as his third year of high school was about to begin at his new school.

With that support base in place and his confidence regained – there would be no older or younger brothers to compete with here, after all – Yuuto thrived.

Unlike his older brother, Itsuki; or his younger brother, Souma, Yuuto had no desire to lord himself over anyone else. He was amiable, if a little shy, but intelligent and confident enough to be seen as reliable and trustworthy by his peers.

He’d feared that, being a third year transfer, he might end up isolated from his classmates given they’d almost all had two or more years together, but he needn’t have worried. His classmates were thankfully warmhearted enough to include him and Yuuto found himself forming a decent circle of friends, both male and female, as to enjoy his youth – as brief as it had been all things considered.

Thus, by the time graduation had come around, he’d already had a relationship that – while it unfortunately hadn’t prospered – had been fulfilling enough while it lasted. And unlike the way his brothers tended to coldly dump their conquests after they got tired of them, at least Yuuto and his ex had parted on amicable terms. Breakup aside, it had helped Yuuto discover what he liked and didn’t like in his relationships, and it had not significantly impacted his studies or social credit – allowing him to graduate with honors.

Nao, for his part, was ecstatic at the news.

“BRO! Congrats!” the giant man cheered through the screen of his computer. “Graduating third place! That’s awesome, dude!”

Yuuto smiled. “Thanks, Nao,” he said, smiling shyly as he blushed. He squinted to get a better look at the background behind his friend. “Where are you, by the way?”

Nao grinned toothily as he half-turned to show a breathtaking mountain vista behind him. “Austria, bro! Look at that sight! Isn’t it fucking awesome?!”

Yuuto chuckled. “It does!” he agreed. “I’m feeling kinda jealous, to be honest!”

Nao laughed, every exhale causing his entire frame to shake. “Well, you know what I’d say!”

“Just come already,” Yuuto finished for him with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, I’m definitely applying for overseas colleges – still waiting on a few decisions there. Dunno how I’m going to convince my parents about that.”

Nao waved that away dismissively. “Eh, if they don’t wanna, fuck ‘em. You just say the word and me and my crew’ll look into how we can help with scholarships. How’s your English?”

Considering the fact that he knew that Nao wasn’t rich, nor were any of his friends, that meant the world to Yuuto.

“I took the IELTS test you told me about,” Yuuto said, shooting him a peace sign. “C2.”

“Hell, yeah, bro! That’s what I’m talking about!”

Yuuto felt a warmth spread through him as his friend celebrated his achievement. By comparison, the reaction he’d gotten from his biological family had been much more subdued – and in the case of his siblings, nonexistent, as neither attended his graduation. His own parents had stuck around long enough to congratulate him before immediately suggesting he move back home so he could focus on his college entrance exams. His refusal to do so, arguing he was fine where he was, had put an early end to that conversation, and they’d just left soon after.

It’d really hit home how overlooked he’d been with his family – and how necessary it’d been to leave that place behind.

“So, foreign colleges aside, you got any plans to stay in Japan?”

Yuuto shrugged. “Not really? I mean, I’m going to apply to a couple of places here, just to say I did if my folks ask, but I’m not really banking on that. I dunno how they’ll feel about my plans to leave, though, so I’m definitely looking into scholarships to pay my way abroad.”

Nao nodded sagely. “Good call, good call. Always pays to have backup plans.”

“Then why don’t you ever have any?” Yuuto snarked with a teasing grin.

Nao laughed. “Got me there! Flying by the seat of my pants is more my jam! So do as I say, not as I do!”

Personally, Yuuto hoped to do both in the hopes that he’d continue making Nao proud.

He eyed the clock and sighed as he noticed the time – it was getting pretty awfully late. “Hey, it’s getting a bit late here, so I think I’m gonna have to turn in soon.”

Nao nodded. “I can imagine. But before you do go, Mari hit me up the other day asking if it’d be alright to invite you to a mixer with other college-bound kids. You know how she loves organizing that shit.”

Yuuto pulled a face at the thought. He knew Mari, of course – he knew all of Nao’s Japan-based friends at this point. And Mari was a decent adult – about the same age as Nao – but she had what Yuuto could only describe as an obsession with love. Specifically, setting up mixers and dates in the hopes that others could achieve the sort of relational bliss she had with her fiancé.

“Don’t make that face, man. You know Mari’s got your back. She wouldn’t put you through some weird shit.”

Yuuto sighed. “I know…it’s just…am I ready for that, man? I mean, my last relationship ended pretty well, but—”

“You know what I’m going to say, bro,” Nao interrupted him, looking serious. “That you’re an awesome dude. You were a cool dude when we met, but you had your issues to work through. You did. You worked on yourself, you became a better version of yourself. That relationship ended not because of anything either of you did but because you weren’t compatible. No dirt on you.”

Yuuto nodded silently.

“All Mari’s suggesting is that you attend a mixer, maybe meet a couple of college-bound kids like you. If nothing happens, nothing happens. Who knows? Maybe you’ll make a friend or two instead. But if something does happen, then why the hell not?”

Yuuto groaned, but conceded Nao had a point. As much as he’d worked on himself, Yuuto had to concede he was, in the end, an introvert-leaning type of guy. Mixers were often way too sociable for his taste, but also not the end of the world.

“Fine…” he relented. “Tell Mari I’ll go.”

“Only if you promise you’re not forcing yourself,” Nao said gently. “You know we don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know, I know,” Yuuto replied, waving his hand dismissively. “But you’re right. It’s not the worst thing, and I know Mari’s got everyone’s best interests at heart. So it’s fine.”

“Alright, man, if you say so. I’ll give her the green light.”

“Sounds good,” he said, before yawning. “Alright, man, I’m headed to bed. Have fun mountain climbing!”

“Hehe, hell yeah, brother! Talk to you soon! Keep me updated about college!”

“Will do, Nao. G’night!”

“Night!”

Mari’s mixer ended up being…weirdly good for him.

And not because it was a phenomenal success.

On the contrary – it was an unmitigated disaster.

Starting from the fact that one of the invitees had apparently gotten past Mari’s extremely thorough vetting process and tried to spike a girl’s drink.

Mari was not pleased.

After Yuuto had raised the alarm, much to the offending guest’s protests, Mari had swooped down on the guy like a hunting hawk and, after using a drink testing strip – that the idiot hadn’t been aware existed – had decked the newly minted 18-year-old high school graduate in the face for trying to commit rape against one of her female guests.

And then the guy’s friends had tried to jump Mari in revenge, only for Mari and Yuuto’s friends – many of whom were former farm boys like Nao – had joined in. The subsequent brawl had only ended after the police had intervened and, although the potential date rapist had been taken in by the police, the restaurant ultimately banned everyone involved from setting foot in the establishment again.

So, yeah – an unmitigated disaster. Mari had not stopped apologizing to everyone else who’d been at the mixer for the oversight.

However, as much of a disaster as it was, Yuuto found that his actions had nonetheless garnered him a fan – the girl he’d saved from drinking a spiked drink and falling prey to a rapist.

“I’m Misa Kurokawa!” she’d introduced herself shortly after they’d all been kicked out of the restaurant. “Thank you so much for saving me back there! It was really brave and decent of you! Do you mind if we exchange numbers? I’d love to keep in touch!”

Honestly, he hadn’t known what to make of her at the time – was this a suspension bridge effect at play? One of Nao’s friends had told him about that while tutoring him. However, girl seemed so earnest and genuine in her request that he’d shyly conceded, introduced himself, and exchanged numbers with her.

Within three weeks, they’d then gone on eight dates dates before Misa got him to acknowledge that they were officially dating.

Frankly, it made his head spin – especially since, during his previous relationship, he and his girlfriend had gone out on a date maybe…once a week? Maybe twice? With Misa, though, she was full of energy and full of desire to hang out and play, or go out and discover something new.

In a weird way that made him question a few things about himself, she kinda reminded him of a smaller – At 5’2, Misa was smaller than Yuuto by a good couple of inches – female, more lean-athletic version of Nao as opposed to bulky. Like his closest male friend, Misa was unapologetic about who she was and what she liked, was incredibly sociable, but a spitfire who didn’t take anyone’s shit, and was incredibly accepting of the fact that Yuuto’s personality wasn’t as extroverted as her own. Thanks to that, many of their dates ended up just being the two of them hanging out in his apartment playing games or reading or chatting.

And, yes, fine, he and Misa did have sex.

Surprisingly for him, she was just as inexperienced as he was in that field, but rather than being shy and awkward about it, she threw herself into it like a challenge to be mastered with enthusiasm – with him as her partner in discovery.

There were honestly a few times he thought she’d end up killing him from dehydration and exertion given how enthusiastic she could be. But she was quick to realize his limits and made sure to match his pace and teach him what she liked in return.

It was a…surprisingly enjoyable, mature relationship.

Even when he revealed he’d applied to go to overseas colleges, she’d just nodded and told him she’d done the same, but with more local choices as well. Fearing this might end up affecting their relationship, she’d nipped his offer to stay behind with her in the bud and told him in no uncertain terms that if he got into a foreign college, like he’d always wanted, then he would take the offer.

He'd wondered if this meant she intended to break things off, but she’d just smacked him upside the head and told him all it meant was that if they were still together by then and it felt right for both of them, she’d defer her college entrance to apply for a mid-term entry to his college of choice. But that regardless of what happened, they’d talk it through together.

He had never been so sure that he loved his girlfriend as when she’d told him that.

Before any of that could happen, though, she pointed out, they still had the local college entry exams to deal with.

And, because his life had been going so well thus far, destiny decided to kick him in the nuts in the worst way.

“K-Kido-kun?”

He’d frozen at the sound of that familiar voice as he’d made his way towards the exam hall. Although over a year had passed since he’d last heard it, it still occasionally haunted his nightmares. That voice, and one other.

He slowly turned to see, much to his growing horror, Asahi Honda standing there, shock written all over her face. Some guy he didn’t recognize was next to her, holding her hand.

Her new boyfriend, presumably.

“Honda-san?” he whispered hollowly.

They stared at each other in silence as the guy next to her looked between them in confusion and growing anxiety and irritation. Overhead, they could hear the call for examinees to get to the exam hall as the test was about to begin.

“W-What are you doing here?!” they both ended up asking at the same time.

Yuuto blinked in surprise at what he saw as she exclaimed. There was guilt in her eyes. Why? She’d been cold and cruel the last time they’d spoken – not a trace of guilt over her actions. What had changed?

For her part, Asahi was stunned to see how Yuuto had changed. Gone was the shy, hunched-over boy who’d been so tormented over her and Mei’s relationships with his brothers that he’d transferred schools. The young man before her stood tall, was stylish, well-groomed, and had a confident poise to him that seemed at odds with the mental characterization she’d constructed of him ever since he’d left her life.

When his brothers had dismissed his departure from home and school as “family circumstances” – with nary a care about their sibling’s fate – she’d imagined him wallowing in destructive self-pity given his personality. It seemed, instead, that he had thrived being away from home, from his brothers…

From her and Mei.

“Examinees, this is a final call for everyone taking the exam to take a seat in the exam hall.”

Both Yuuto and Asahi shook off their shock – the latter with an insistent tug from her boyfriend – and made their way to the Examination Hall. Seeing Honda had shocked Yuuto, but a quick text message to Misa, and a prompt return message of encouragement and a promise she’d come meet him once his test was over, managed to get his head back on track.

For Asahi, Yuuto’s presence threw her off her game. He’d been seated a few seats in front of her, one column over, so she’d seen him send off a text message – and half expected it to go to her. Only it didn’t. And whatever message he got back had evidently been comforting given the ghost of a smile she’d seen him sprout before he put his phone away and turned to look forward.

“Hey.”

She turned to see her own boyfriend staring at her oddly.

“You alright?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “Y-Yeah,” she lied, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. “Just…surprised.”

She saw him glance over to Yuuto before looking back at her and mouthing, “Ex?”

She quickly shook her head. “We’ll talk later,” she said softly. He didn’t look too convinced, but nodded and let it go.

The test itself proved to be alright as far as Yuuto was concerned – he’d honestly feared worse. It wasn’t so easy he’d claim to have aced it, but he was fairly certain he’d done well enough to meet the minimum standards and then some.

Still, by the time it was over, he was stretching his arms over his head, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the stiffness, and remembering that Honda was apparently around, quickly gathered his things and made a beeline for the exit the moment he could, hoping to avoid having to deal with her.

No dice.

He’d failed to take into account that Honda had been seated quite a few seats behind him, so she’d taken notice of his apparent need to get out quickly and gotten ahead of him, meeting him outside, by the announcement board.

“Kido-kun! Please, wait!”

Yuuto ground to a halt as he clenched his eyes, wishing he’d stop hearing her voice. Even with all the therapy Nao and his friends had given him, all the work he’d done on himself, hearing her voice still hurt the same way it’d hurt the day she’d broken ties with him over his objections to her relationship with Itsuki.

“What?!” he snapped – a little harsher than he’d wanted – as he whirled to face her. He wasn’t sure what kind of face he was making, but it seemed to stop Honda in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I…”

“YUUTO!”

Whatever Honda had wanted to say was immediately cut off by Misa practically tackle-hugging him from the side – the smaller woman still managing to make him stumble to the side from the sheer force of the impact.

Asahi, for her part, just stared, eyes bulging, as this 5’2” girl slammed into Kido out of nowhere and hugged him for all he was worth – completely derailing her attempts to talk to him.

“W-What’s going on?” her boyfriend asked, a little out of breath as he finally caught up.

“I…don’t know.”

It took Yuuto a hot second to recover from his loveable girlfriend’s hug attack, but as he did, he felt his temper evaporate as she tightened her hug around him. This wasn’t one of her usual, enthusiastic, cheerful hugs, he realized. She would’ve been exclaiming things, talking at him, praising him – any number of things. But she wasn’t right now.

She was comforting him.

He felt his love for his girlfriend grow even more as he realized that, and he gently returned the hug. “Thanks, Misa,” he said softly. “I…I think I’m okay now.”

She unburied her head from his shirt to look up at him. “You sure?” she asked.

He nodded.

With great reluctance, she let go of him and they both got back on their feet as Honda and her boyfriend watched, confused and uncertain. Taking a deep breath, Yuuto faced his former crush and tormentor.

“Honda-san,” he greeted her flatly, nodding at her boyfriend. “It’s been a while.”

She seemed to snap out of her stupor as she nodded shakily. “It…It has, Kido-kun.”

“Kido-san, please,” he corrected her. “I don’t believe we’re close enough anymore to warrant that level of familiarity.”

“Oi!”

“It…It’s fine,” Honda quickly said, interrupting whatever her boyfriend was about to say. “He…He’s right. After everything that happened, I should mind my manners a bit more.”

“Mind your…what the hell happened?” her boyfriend asked, confused, before he apparently had a lightbulb moment. “Wait! Is this the guy who transferred schools because you rejected him?”

That was the wrong thing to say, evidently, as Yuuto’s eyes narrowed and Misa’s head snapped towards Honda to glower at her.

“Is that what she’s been saying?” Yuuto asked with false calm.

“That’s rich,” Misa growled.

“Hey, hey,” the boyfriend said defensively, stepping in front of Honda. “Look, buddy – I know getting rejected by your crush and being left out from playing games with her and your brothers sucked, but—”

“Playing games?” Yuuto echoed hollowly. “Being left out from playing games?”

He turned to look at Honda and scowled. “What a nice fantasy you’ve concocted, Honda-san. Misa,” he turned to his girlfriend. “I need a moment.”

She nodded at him with a sad smile. “Go on.”

With that, Yuuto stomped off, ignoring Honda and her boyfriend as he went over to a bench to cool off.

Meanwhile, Asahi was getting flayed alive by Misa’s stare – or rather, it seemed like that’s what the girl wanted to do to her after what her boyfriend had said.

“Hey, rude much?” her boyfriend asked archly. “Asahi just wanted to talk to him – he didn’t need to be such a—”

“Shut….the fuck up,” Yuuto’s girlfriend warned him, marching up to him and jutting a finger at his face. “If you knew what your precious little girlfriend here had done to him, you wouldn’t be half this much of an asshole!”

Asahi flinched at the venom in the girl’s voice, while her boyfriend narrowed his eyes. “She rejected him and made him feel excluded, big deal!” he countered. “Crushes don’t work out! Life goes on! No need to be a baby about—”

“She tortured him, you moron!” Misa spat.

Asahi gasped. Her boyfriend’s words died in his mouth.

“N-No, I didn’t!” she protested. She looked pleadingly at her boyfriend. “I swear! I didn’t!”

“No?” Yuuto’s girlfriend asked dubiously. “Then what do you call fucking both his brothers with a friend under his roof while he had to endure hearing everything from the room between your little fuckfests?” she asked. “You call that normal circumstances? A misunderstanding?!”

She glowered at Asahi, who took an instinctive step back. “Do you even know what he was like after you tore his heart and mind to pieces, you self-absorbed bitch?” she spat.

“Hey, watch it!”

Misa rounded on Asahi’s boyfriend. “What? Gonna defend her honor? Say it isn’t true? Why don’t you ask her, then? Ask her, point blank, if she and her slut of a friend slept with both of his brothers under his roof while he was present to hear everything for months.”

Asahi prayed he wouldn’t. Hoped against hope that her boyfriend wouldn’t.

But he did.

“Fine. Asahi, did you sleep with both of that dude’s brothers in his house with a friend while he was there such that he could listen to you all having sex for months?”

He turned to her, confidence and trust in his eyes that she would deny it. She could’ve.

She didn’t.

“…Yes.”

She practically felt the moment her relationship ended the moment the word left her lips. The look of shock, betrayal, horror, and disgust that materialized on her boyfriend’s face told her everything she needed to know about how he felt about what she’d done.

Before, all he’d known was that she had a friend she felt she hurt by saying unkind and cruel things to him, prompting the friend to transfer schools – probably because of his unrequited crush.

She had deliberately avoided telling him the whole truth. How that first meeting with Yuuto’s brothers hadn’t just been innocent games and stuff – that she and Mei had fucked Itsuki and Souma that very first interaction. That between the four of them, they’d persistently paraded their relationship in front of Yuuto and freely fucked throughout the Kido house without care or concern about what it might be doing to him. How they’d occasionally switch partners just to keep things fresh.

She’d omitted all of that because she herself hadn’t wanted to accept the truth once Itsuki and Souma had unceremoniously dumped them once they were tired of them. That moment had allowed her to finally have a moment of clarity about what her relationship had truly been like and what she’d done.

That she had participated in and enabled the psychological torture of Yuuto, driving him away.

She’d loathed the Kido brothers ever since – as did Mei, who particularly detested Souma these days. But in turn, it had dumped a metric ton of guilt on her shoulders over what she’d done to Yuuto. But even with that guilt, she could not bring herself to be honest to her own boyfriend about what she’d done.

This hadn’t been a matter of unrequited crushes. Yuuto hadn’t left over a broken heart.

He’d left because she’d helped his brothers torture him for months on end and enjoyed it.

“I…I need to go.”

She didn’t stop her boyfriend from leaving. Well, ex-boyfriend, most likely. It felt…karmic, to be honest. She’d gotten a taste of a normal, loving relationship – and now it had crashed and burned because she hadn’t been able to be honest about what she was truly like.

“You know,” Yuuto’s girlfriend said. “If I didn’t know that Yuuto wouldn’t want me to, I’d deck you in the face right now for what you did to him.”

Asahi gave a wet chuckle. “I bet.”

Misa scowled at her. “There’s no forgiveness to be found here, you know,” she said. “What you did can’t be solved with an ‘I’m sorry.’”

“I know.”

“Then why couldn’t you leave him alone?”

Asahi wasn’t sure, to be honest. But her gut seemed to know.

“I felt…guilty.”

“You should.”

“I know.”

Misa eyed her for a moment before sighing. “Why did you lie to him?” she asked.

Asahi blinked. “To who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

Ah. “…Guilt. Shame. Self-loathing. Disgust. Take your pick.”

Misa nodded at her. “Good. At least you know what you should be feeling.”

Asahi flinched. This girl really had a tongue on her, huh?

“Unfortunately, one of Yuuto’s best friends would tell him not to hold grudges, so it’d be poor form if I did,” she said, crossing her arms. “So here’s the deal. Never bother Yuuto again. He’s in a good place right now and the last thing he needs is one half of the bitch duo who nearly ruined his life meddling. He’s got a life, he’s got friends, and he’s got a future. You don’t deserve a spot in any of the three.”

Asahi flinched again. “I…”

“I’m not done,” Misa interrupted her. “That goes double for that idiot friend of yours. Yuuto’s friends will be hearing about this, so I want to make things clear to you – we will be watching after him, and we will stop you from hurting him. So do us all a favor and like that turd factory of a family he has, get out of his life.”

Asahi was quiet as she heard Misa out. “…I understand.”

“Good.”

“May I…ask a question?”

“To me or to him?”

“You.”

“I hate you, but shoot.”

Asahi swallowed. “Is…Is he happy?”

Misa eyed her. “For all the damage you did to him, for all the damage his brothers did to him…yes. He’s finally happy. So if you do feel guilty, do him a favor and disappear.”

With that Misa left Asahi where she stood, going over to Yuuto who remained seated on a bench. Asahi watched with a bittersweet smile as the small woman hugged her boyfriend tightly and allowed him to cry on her shoulder – judging from the jerking shaking of his.

She heard her phone vibrate in her purse and dug it out, seeing the message preview on the screen.

[BF<3: I’m sorry, but I think we should break up.]

Asahi sighed as the inevitable finally materialized.

Where had everything gone wrong? She’d managed to get elected to Student Council President, only to get impeached after mishandling a club trip’s finances; Itsuki and Souma had dumped her and Mei like a bag of rotten potatoes, and now her boyfriend – the sole stable pillar of her life she had left from high school, had broken up with her over text.

Objectively, it wasn’t all bad – her grades were still excellent and she still had her choice of universities…but none of that made her feel fulfilled. It was, if anything, a notch on a boring life’s plan.

Ever since her relationship with the Kido brothers and Mei had imploded, she’d felt a hole in her soul and life that her boyfriend had temporarily managed to fill…only to now have everything feel empty again.

And it was belatedly that she realized why.

She hadn’t done anything to change. Neither she nor Mei had. They had never truly moved on from that mistake of a relationship fiasco they had with Itsuki and Souma, but rather buried it under layers of guilt and self-loathing as they pretended it had all been a normal, failed relationship. But it hadn’t been. They hadn’t been normal at any point of that messed up foursome.

She eyed the couple on the bench.

By contrast, Yuuto had evidently changed. He would’ve never confronted her with such poise and anger before he’d left. He seemed terrified of standing up for himself – even their final confrontation in the school hallway had been mostly her talking down to him. This Yuuto, however, was much more put together – and was even in a stable, loving, supportive relationship that she could only envy. Yuuto had told Misa about what had happened. Asahi hadn’t been able to bring herself to do the same with her boyfriend.

And maybe that was the problem.

Yuuto had faced his past and moved on, affirming his self-worth despite it all to persevere.

Asahi, on the other hand?

Had not.

Chapter 20: Vanished Memories

Chapter Text

SLAP.

Kaori eyes were wide and shocked as the slap rang through the living room of her house.

The perpetrator? Her tearful, furious mother.

“H…How could you?!” she hissed.

“M-Mom?” she asked, fearfully, a hand going up to her cheek.

“Shou told us everything,” her father interjected as he sat at the dining table, looking grim and just as angry as his mother, but more collected. “He showed us a picture of you with that…that thing.”

Fury welled up in Kaori as she thought of her ex ratting her out to her parents. They hadn’t known that she’d broken things off with him – or why. And for the most part, they’d seemed content with her change in style and clothing, reasoning that it was just something she and Shou had been trying out.

Only for that coward to rat her out.

But…how? How had he known?

She hadn’t told Shou who she was dating now. She’d just broken things off and left it at that. So how had he known?

“You cheated on your boyfriend, Kaori?! With an adult man?! With no protection, on top of everything!?” her mother screamed at her. “When did I raise such a…such a…such a SLUT!”

“Shou’s lying!” she yelled back, realizing this was not the time to speculate as to how Shou found out. She had to get things back under control and prevent her parents from interfering any further. And that meant undermining Shou’s credibility. “He’s just jealous and bitter that I broke up with him!”

“HE SHOWED US PICTURES, KAORI!” her mother screamed. “VIDEOS!”

The color drained from Kaori’s face as her father stood up, brought out his phone, and showed her the email Shou had sent her parents. There, attached to a brief, perfunctory apology for not being up to scratch to be Kaori’s boyfriend, were no fewer than six videos and twenty pictures that, just from the previews, she knew were inarguably explicit.

That fucker had probably tailed her one day, realized what happened, and gathered the evidence.

She was fucked – and not in the way she wanted to be.

“The lies end here, Kaori,” her father told her coldly as he put away his phone, the look of sheer disgust on his face making her flinch. “I don’t know where we went wrong, or if perhaps you were manipulated or this is just a part of who you are, but we will have none of this while you live under this roof.”

“We called the police on that creep!” her mother hissed. “Told them everything, how he put his hands on our underage daughter!”

“You can’t do that!” Kaori protested. “I…I consented! The boss didn’t force me!”

“YOU ARE A MINOR!” her father roared, causing her to stumble back in fright – her father never yelled. “AND HE IS AN ADULT MAN!”

He breathed heavily as Kaori shook fearfully at her father’s rage. Her mother put a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder as she glared at her only daughter.

“I am going to make sure that man goes to prison for a very long time, Kaori,” her father warned her. “That shop of his? I’ll see to it it’s torn down and paved over. I will tear his life to shreds!” he ranted. “You will NEVER see him again, daughter – I promise you.”

Kaori felt her heart shatter at his words. There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt in his eyes. Only vengeful fury. Nor did she find a sympathetic ally in her mother – who, if anything, seemed displeased that the man’s punishment wouldn’t go further.

“And as for you,” he continued, regaining her attention. “It goes without saying that you’re grounded until the day you graduate,” he pronounced.

Her eyes bulged. “What?! You can’t do that!”

“You’re lucky we don’t disown you and kick you out!” her mother snapped. “After what you did, I’m ashamed to look Shou’s mother in the eye!”

“That’s not fair!” Kaori protested. “I broke up with Shou because he was a coward! Because he never made a move! Why should I be punished for finding someone who liked me enough to want me?!”

“If things had been that bad, you should’ve broken up with him first!” her mother reprimanded her, poking her hard in the clavicle and making Kaori flinch. “Not after…after sleeping behind his back with a goddamn rapist!”

“You cheated on Shou not because he was a coward, Kaori, but because you are,” her father added, prompting her mother to nod in agreement.

“WHAT?!”

“If you’d wanted him to make a move, you should’ve told him in no uncertain terms,” her mother said. “You could’ve even asked to talk to his parents about your concerns about your relationship – or with us! For goodness’ sake, Kaori, we’ve known his family since you were toddlers! How could you possibly do such a thing to them?! Where’s your basic decency?!”

Her father nodded. “And because of that, the first thing you’ll be doing is going over to their house and apologizing not just to Shou, but to his parents as well,” he told her firmly.

“N-No! No way!” Kaori protested.

“That is not a request, young lady!” her mother snapped. “Unless you want to see how angry we can really get, you’ll do as you’re told! And we’ll be there to see you do it!”

Kaori stared at her parents resentfully, furious that they would take her ex’s side instead of hers and go after her lover. But, unfortunately for her, her father was right – she was, ultimately, a coward.

As he’d said, she could’ve been clearer with Shou about her desire to turn their relationship more physical. She could’ve consulted with any number of trusted adults and friends about the matter – worst case scenario, she could’ve amicably broken things off as they realized they weren’t on the same wavelength. But instead, she’d confided in her boss at her part-time job – an adult she’d known for all of a week before she’d spilled her guts and he’d made a move on her that she hadn’t resisted. She’d repeatedly and unashamedly cheated on her boyfriend – a boy she’d known since practically infancy, and whose parents had treated her like a daughter of their own – just because the boss made her feel “wanted.”

The apology that followed was excruciating.

Gone was the familiar warmth of Shou’s living room as she stuttered her way through an apology – her dyed hair dyed black again and her clothing significantly more modest – as he stared at her brokenhearted and his parents glared at her hatefully. Despite her hope that her parents might ultimately defend her if Shou’s parents said anything, not only did they not defend her when Shou’s mother called her a “cheating bimbo slut,” but then apologized on Kaori’s behalf again, agreeing that she’d inexcusably crossed the line and was entirely to blame.

The fact that all four adults and Shou then reveled in the news that her boss had been arrested for sexual misconduct with a minor dug the metaphorical knife deeper into Kaori’s gut. Her father had made good on his promise – he’d raised hell in every forum he could about the boss’ low character and decision to assault a minor. Now, even if she came out to defend him, she’d just sound like a manipulated, lovestruck puppy who didn’t know any better.

School wasn’t much better once summer ended.

Kaori quickly realized that the story of what went down between her, Shou, and the boss spread like wildfire, and thanks to her father’s efforts, no one sympathized with her. More than once she found notes accusing her of being a slut slipped into her shoe locker, while some of the boys – never Shou, though, who never again spared her a second glance – would openly leer at her and wonder aloud what her “going rate” was, only to claim it was a joke.

But she knew they were half-serious. Apparently, the rumor mill had transformed her simple act of cheating into a fantasy where she’d been prostituting herself over the summer.

By the end of that year, her spirit was inarguably broken. The mere thought of physical intimacy began to disgust her as the boys’ leers degraded her sense of self-worth, while the unsympathetic glares from the girls robbed her of any social safe haven. Where once she would’ve run to Shou for help, she was further crushed to find out that, now that he was no longer going out with her, other girls – perhaps spurred on by the tragic story of how such a decent guy was cheated on by such a slutty girl as Kaori – began to flirt with him, culminating in him eventually agreeing to go out with one of the girls from the classroom next door.

She was all alone.

So when the year ended, Kaori broke down and begged her parents amidst tears to transfer her out of that school. She was even willing to go to an all-girl’s school if it would clinch the deal. Angry at her as they were, her parents nonetheless agreed, with her mother bitterly pleased that at least in such a school, the odds of her shaming their family any further through promiscuity would be significantly reduced. Much to Kaori’s mortification, her mother even visited potential schools to insist in no uncertain terms that Kaori was never to be allowed to be alone with an adult man under any circumstances while on school premises.

Even so, the transfer was ultimately achieved and Kaori began her second year of high school in a new school. Before she did, during that summer period between her final year at her old school and her start at the new one, she’d visited the boss’ old shop one final time, only to find that her father had made good on that part of his promise, too.

It was gone.

A passing local told her it’d been seized in a lawsuit and then demolished and paved over.

Nothing was left of it – as though the boss and his shop had been nothing but a dream.

A vanished memory of a time she could not take back even if she wanted to.

Chapter 21: Karma Comes Calling

Chapter Text

“Ah…you came~”

I was so glad.

So, so glad.

If she’d changed, if she’d shown regret, guilt, anything to suggest she had chosen to break ties with that fucker, I would’ve hesitated.

But there was nothing in her eyes except mockery.

That made things so much simpler.

I chuckled, much to her bemused confusion.

“What’s so funny?” she teased. “Finally realized how out of your depth you are?”

I shook my head as I leaned over her, hands on either side of her head, and grinned coldly.

“I’m just so happy you’re the same dumb bitch you apparently always were.”

Her eyes widened in shock and anger, but before she could react, my hands grasped hers and held them over her head.

“H-Hey! Let go!” she yelled. It was pointless – the audio system in the room going at full blast – all courtesy of her pimp – made for a very effective muffler.

She squirmed under me, to no avail. Holding both of her hands together with one of mine, I used the other to reach over to where I’d left a packet next to the condoms, retrieved a pill, and force fed it to her. Her eyes widened as my hand clasped over her mouth, her cut-off scream forcing her to swallow the pill.

In a few minutes, she was out like a light.

Sighing in relief, I let go of her wrists – thankful that I hadn’t needed that much strength to pin her arms down, lest it leave a bruise, and got to work. The pills would keep her under for quite a few hours, being sleep medication, so I wasn’t too worried about her waking me up and jumping me unawares.

I found her phone and clicked my tongue as I saw the password lock. Eyeing her sleeping form, however, I had an idea and activated its facial recognition system and used opened her eyes long enough for the device to recognize her and unlock the phone with a satisfying click.

After that, it became a simple matter.

I went to her chat info and specifically sought out our last communication – when her pimp had organized this particular encounter. With grim satisfaction, I deleted every damning message. I’d already done so on my phone, but I needed to be sure there were no backups – so getting access to her phone had been a must.

Then, I looked for her chats with that dick, Imaizumi. As expected, there were long, long chats of a remarkably filthy nature where they’d exchanged nudes, sexted – and yes, organized her prostitution gigs.

Perfect.

“I really am so glad you’re such an idiot, senpai,” I told the unconscious Minatsu on the bed as I took photos with my own phone, screenshots with hers, and prepared the package for delivery. “This wouldn’t be anywhere this easy if you two had actually been careful.”

Taking down Imaizumi the honest way had been impossible. He was simply too much of a celebrity – asshole personality aside – to be taken down by sex scandals.

Prostitution, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

Prostitution was illegal.

And when you factored in the fact that, based on the chats I was getting copies off from Minatsu, some of his clients were foreigners, and some of the girls he “scouted” to come over to Japan were foreigners as well – that amounted to sex tourism and potentially sex trafficking.

Now, sure, one could argue that even with all this evidence, his celebrity status would protect him since his agency would fear the fallout and try to hush things up.

Which was why I wasn’t going to be taking him down.

My companion here, out like a light on the bed, was.

Gleefully, I typed up the confession I’d planned out for Minatsu. It was all very heartfelt and guilty – written in the voice of a young woman way over her head who regretted abandoning a bright future because of some famous asshole who lured her into his bed with promises of love and companionship. And how a meeting with me, outside of Imaizumi’s knowledge, had led to a heart-to-heart that convinced her to come forward with this confession of his criminal operations.

All very melodramatic. The press would eat it up.

Once it was ready, I put her phone aside to pick mine up and opened up a particular chat group, where I typed the planned message.

[Ordered some fried chicken…kinda sucked.]

I smiled as a slew of responses, ranging from commiseration to LOL’s replied.

Good. Everything was going as planned.

With the confession ready and the pictures ready to go out, I got dressed, went over to Minatsu, bound her hands and ankles in novelty cuffs designed for sex play – in case she tried to break free and hurt herself in the process, so that I could always use the “kinky sex” excuse – and shook her awake.

It took her a moment to do so, groggily waking up on the bed, confused and unsure what had happened. It wasn’t until she caught sight of me – at first, through blurred vision, then more clearly – that she snapped awake and scowled at me.

“You fucker!” she yelled. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

I smiled at her as I took a few steps back and sat down on a nearby chair as she rolled onto her side to glower at me.

“You’re quite welcome to try,” I told her with a taunting smirk. “But bound as you are, I doubt it.”

“When Yuusuke hears about this—!”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I told her, surprising her even as I produced her phone and waved it tauntingly. “Recognize this?”

“My phone! Give it back!”

I tutted at her. “Now, now – that’s not a very polite way to ask for a favor, is it? Besides, I need it right now,” I said, making a grand gesture of scrolling through her phone. “So many nudes and sex videos…good grief. I should get tested.”

She sneered at me. “Not like you lasted long enough to get anything!”

I shrugged. “I suppose that’s true,” I conceded. “It was my first time, after all, so I won’t beat myself up too much about it. At the very least, though, I’m not a manipulative whore like you.”

She flinched at the accusation, but kept up her scowl. Time to pay the piper.

I turned the phone screen to her. “Now, what do you think this is?”

She glared at me before squinting to see her phone screen. “Who the fuck are you emailing with my phone?!”

“Oh, no one,” I said airily. “Just every major news station, the Kantei, politicians, police captains, the Attorney General’s Office, a few detectives, tabloids, diplomats, foreign media…the works, really,” I said. “It’s really quite awesome how so many important people publicly list their emails and contact info.”

“W-What?!”

“And it’s really good stuff, too. I gotta say – real brave of you to confess to the entire world that Yuusuke Imaizumi is a sex trafficker and pimp. Real hero stuff.”

“N-NO! Y-YOU CAN’T!”

I smiled coldly as I turned the phone back to face her and very deliberately pressed “Send.”

“I believe I just did.”

“Y-YOU FUCKER!” she screamed. “I’LL KILL YOU!”

I shrugged. “Sure. I’ll go over and undo those cuffs and all if that’s what you really want,” I told her, getting up. “I mean, if you want to go down with Imaizumi, be my guest and throw the rest of your life away. Either way, he’s done.”

She paused mid-retort as fear flooded her eyes. “W-What?”

I grinned as I leaned over her and stared into her eyes. “That was a detailed confession, senpai. Even if you killed me or whatever and retracted it, it won’t matter. The details are enough to launch a massive police investigation into Imaizumi that’ll have all of his best PR people running for the hills.”

“All those sex videos that were clearly prostitution? All those chats you two exchanged about prostitution gigs? Your bank statements? All of it was sent to the world,” I told her, placing my hands on the bed on either side of her head. “Those sex videos alone will help identify other women he’s been prostituting. The chats show criminal intent. How much harder do you think it’ll be for the police to find other chats when they get a hold of his phones?”

“Y-You…”

“And more to the point, do you really think I could’ve done this on my own?” I asked her, chuckling. “Imaizumi’s screwed over so many people over the years – how many grudges do you think are out there, ready to be weaponized?”

I shook my head at her, her expression a rictus of fear and terror as she realized how utterly screwed Imaizumi and she were.

“You don’t get to live the way he lives, act the way he does, without consequences eventually bearing down on him,” I told her, speaking to her like I was explaining things to a toddler. “How many cops do you think were itching for a reason to go after his punk ass? How many detectives whose best leads dried up because his agency bribed the right superior? How many prosecutors, politicians, and other celebrities who would give anything to tear him to pieces?”

I smiled toothily at her, likely appearing like a demon about to eat her whole as I loomed.

“I was just the trigger, senpai. But karma was coming for you all eventually.”

“Y…You’ve ruined my life!” she wailed.

“That’s right,” I confirmed. “If you go to him – hell, I’ll even cut you loose – I bet he’ll be the first one to throw you out the window. Literally,” I told her. “Or maybe he’s more of a choking kind of guy? I dunno – you know his tastes better than I do.”

“And hell!” I exclaimed, straightening up again and waving my arms in the air gleefully. “If he does kill you, that’s a murder charge on top of everything else! The final nail in his coffin! Maybe he’ll even get the noose!”

I laughed madly at the thought as she stared at me in horror, the full weight of what I had told her bearing down on her.

I smirked. “Or—there’s plan B.”

“W-What’s plan B?” she asked, a spark of hope flaring in her eyes.

“Plan B is you stand by the confession I wrote for you,” I told her with a sick grin. “Say I convinced you to abandon him. Confirm what I wrote. Tear your own lover down. Name names, places, clients – the whole works. You’ll probably get police protection then. Some people might even praise you as a hero!”

I shrugged. “Of course, his most rabid supporters will hate you – but, eh, can’t please everyone.”

Of course, that wasn’t half of it. I painted a pretty picture for her, but I’d left out quite a few outcomes as well – deliberately so. I had her cornered right now, emotionally and mentally, so I waited for the inevitable to happen – even as we began to hear police sirens approaching at full speed.

That cinched it for her.

“I’ll…I’ll do it! I’ll cooperate!”

I smiled coldly. “Good.”

The moment Yuusuke Imaizumi, rising star and celebrity asshole, was led away in handcuffs from the hotel was a moment I would treasure forever as I watched it on the hotel’s TV with Minatsu by my side – her own face wracked with guilt, fear, and anxiety. Moments after the news footage had shown Imaizumi being manhandled into a cop car, screaming his head off about this being a mistake and how he would sue everyone, Minatsu’s phone rang, and I allowed her to answer it.

It was the police.

As per my instructions, she confirmed that she had, indeed, sent the confession, and promised to go to the police station in the morning – feeling emotionally overwhelmed right now. Given she was a whistleblower, the police seemed content with that and agreed to her terms.

Which I already knew they would.

Thanks to RamenNoodle67.

Like I’d told Minatsu – Imaizumi had made many enemies over the years. And most of them were not college students with broken hearts, but rather law enforcement officials, politicians, moral advocacy groups, and human rights NGOs. So the moment I’d chosen to enact my revenge, I’d reached out to others on Imaizumi hate groups online and we’d begun coordinating our efforts.

RamenNoodle67, or just Noodle to his friends, was actually Chief Police Inspector Koji Wakaba. A man who had numerous times before tried to nab Imaizumi on suspicion of prostitution, but had never been able to break his hold over the girls he pimped out – mostly because they were starlets and idols (having been unaware of his more civilian conquests).

With Noodle in charge of the police response, the moment I’d sent him Minatsu’s “confession” via email, he’d waited long enough to make things believable before dialing up PontasBridge01 – or Public Prosecutor Nana Maeda, one of Japan’s leading campaigners against the sex trade. Between them, the order was promptly issued to launch the investigation into and arrest of Yuusuke Imaizumi on suspicion of sex and human trafficking, prostitution, blackmail, and a slew of other crimes.

And the order was compounded by an anonymous digital delivery of a significant data dump to Maeda’s office revealing the financial records of Imaizumi’s activities and his list of clients – accompanied by videos and pictures as evidence.

Courtesy of our mutual friend, MimiRoxX – or Imaizumi’s own “IT guy,” Kota Sato. A man who had been almost slavishly loyal to Imaizumi until the day his favorite idol and crush, Mimi, had been seduced by Imaizumi and her sex tape and pictures sent to him tauntingly. He was only too happy to switch to our side after that, and having the guy that Imaizumi depended on for his cybersecurity on hand meant any evidence we’d ever needed to put him away would now go directly to the cops.

Those three hadn’t even been half of the list of people we’d recruited into this plan. The cops who’d raided Imaizumi’s hotel room upstairs and frog-marched him out the front door, followed by all the detained starlets and idols? All of them were in on it – all of them had grudges against Imaizumi for the way he’d disrespected them and gotten away with it.

The lack of hotel feeds showing me coming to this room? Thanks to the hotel guy whose girlfriend had been stolen away by Imaizumi, I might as well have never visited this place. Once the cleaning lady on call – whose daughter had committed suicide over Imaizumi mocking her at a mixer – got her hands on this place, there’d be even less proof, if any.

Reporters, gossipy wives, loudmouth construction workers, bitter college students – all contributed to this moment.

A coalition of the weak and helpless and frustrated and angry. Individually, unable to take Imaizumi down.

But together? We’d created a force multiplication effect that no amount of clout and reputation would save him from.

Like I’d told Minatsu – even if she’d retracted her confession, Imaizumi’s days as a free man were numbered. We’d made sure of it – she was merely the trigger and fall person we’d needed to be able to walk away with our lives intact.

Now, Imaizumi didn’t go quietly – it would’ve frankly been boring if he had. He contested every charge, of course. Denied all the accusations. His agent and press guy worked overtime to try and spin the whole debacle as persecution.

But, inevitably, Imaizumi’s own mouth doomed him.

Railing against bitter college kids who were butthurt he’d stolen their girls, he’d all but unapologetically and defiantly confirmed that he had, in fact, given each of them an opportunity to sleep with their crushes in exchange for some money – a full-on confession of pimping.

After that, even Imaizumi’s own attorney looked like a dead man walking.

Most of his fans abandoned him wholesale after that – though some of the more rabid ones stuck to their guns and defended him, instead spewing hateful accusations against the government, the media, and Minatsu herself – although they were unaware of her name at this point, so they called her the “fucking whistleblower bitch.”

By the end of the trial, Imaizumi’s career and legacy were in tatters as the court found him guilty of criminal conspiracy, sex trafficking, prostitution, blackmail, and a number of other crimes. The social fallout was astounding – politicians who had long hated him called for an exemplary sentence. Those that had associated with him quickly cut ties and joined those ranks calling for him to be thrown into the deepest, darkest hole and the key thrown away. The idols and starlets he’d prostituted saw their own careers similarly implode as, between the fans and the evidence of consenting prostitution, anything associated with them became instantly toxic.

More than a couple of idol groups had to disband, and movies had to be recast at the last minute.

As for Minatsu, her prominent role in the scandal as a whistleblower meant her only recourse at this stage was to lean into the lie I’d spun on her behalf. And that meant police protection – which meant changing her identity, moving, and cutting ties with her previous life.

I just grinned through the entire thing – even as she called me one last time to curse me out for ruining everything.

Imaizumi’s sentence ultimately ended up being as exemplary as society had called for – he would functionally never see the light of day as a free man ever again. His agent, who was charged as a co-conspirator for making arrangements to scout out foreign “talent” and helping Imaizumi get away with his criminal activities, was similarly incarcerated for a very long time.

They even, much to my eternal amusement, had to pass a law to more stringently regulate celebrity behavior because of how much shit Imaizumi’s scandal had stirred up. It was fucking hilarious.

Stories of (largely minor) celebrities going back to their old haunts and alma maters’ to look for female companionship practically evaporated as talent agencies cracked the whip on their clients, fearful of having another Imaizumi scandal on their hands – heck, even just a whiff of misbehavior was enough for these agencies to drop their celebrities like a bag of rocks these days.

It all made for a very amusing return to college as I re-dedicated myself to my music career. I noticed, in particular, that Imaizumi’s fall from grace had led to the campus cutting any and all ties with him – trying as hard as possible to erase the very memory of his attendance here. I was fine with that, and based on what I was seeing, so were my clubmates, who seemed much happier now that the looming specter of Imaizumi was gone.

“Hi, there!”

I turned from my scrawled music sheet to see a cute brunette girl wearing jeans and a Queen t-shirt smiling at me. She grinned as she extended a hand at me.

“I’m Kaori Sawada – I just joined! The other senpai told me you were the guy to come to for guidance!”

I stared at her, for a moment unsure of what to do, before I chuckled to myself, put my pencil down, and shook her hand.

“Keisuke Kikuchi, second year,” I introduced myself. “Sure, let me show you the ropes.”

Chapter 22: A Hopeful Arrangement

Chapter Text

“So, you’re the whore!”

Misaki stared in shock at the young woman before her.

“What?”

It had been five years since Misaki Kaijiki – formerly Misaki Sasaki before her divorce – had seen her ex-husband and neighbor. To say it weighed on her conscience was an understatement – the day she’d realized he’d left the apartment she and he had called home for years, she’d broken down and panicked, deeply annoying her current husband.

It had all gone horribly wrong.

When Misaki had first learned of her then-husband’s proclivity for NTR and infidelity content, she’d sighed, played along, and had been willing to indulge in his fetish like a good, but loyal wife. She’d told him about her two previous exes, felt him harden as they had sex, and just accepted it as part of who he was.

When he’d met Ken – her current husband and then-neighbor – his fetish had evolved and he’d claimed he wanted her to sleep with him. She’d been shocked, taken aback – and that was an understatement in itself – but the earnest, pleading look on his face had ultimately convinced her to give it a go – and against all expectations, as Ken had looked like such an upstanding man of integrity, he’d been willing to help out as well.

Over time, her relationship with Ken had grown more and more sexual and physical – and her husband had grown more and more excited in turn, being at his sexual peak.

But it was never good enough. And, eventually, Ken had made his move, made her choose, and she’d chosen him.

But all the while, as she’d told him, she’d only done so because she loved her husband – and was convinced that the more “stolen away” she was, the more he’d enjoy it.

That was why she’d left her wedding ring that day at home, before her husband’s eyes.

That was why she’d taken his video call and allowed Ken to speak down to him and claim her.

That was why she’d willingly gotten pregnant with Ken’s child.

That was why she’d made her husband get a divorce.

That was shy she’d paraded her pregnant belly every chance she had when they met in the apartment building’s hallways.

That was why she had the loudest possible sex in the room closest to her now-ex-husband’s room with Ken so that he’d be able to hear her get pleasured.

She’d even loudly announced when her water had broken, knowing he’d be in the apartment next door, so he’d know she was about to bear another man’s child.

Because she knew he’d be turned on by all of it.

So why, then, had he disappeared in the interim?

By the time she’d been released from the hospital, they’d come home to a listing agent putting up the “For Sale” sign on his door. She’d been shocked, practically tossed her newborn son to Ken, and marched up to the agent.

“Hey! Why are you selling that apartment without the owner’s consent?!” she’d demanded.

He’d looked at her like she was crazy. “What are you talking about?” he’d asked. “Isn’t it obvious? The owner decided to sell.”

She’d refused to believe it. Insisted this was some kind of scam. She’d all but forced the real estate agent to open the apartment door so she could confront her ex-husband about it.

But the apartment was empty. Completely bare – ready to be moved into and showing no signs of habitation. Over the real estate agent’s protests, she’d rushed to what had once been the master bedroom and, perhaps somewhat delusionally, hoped to find her beloved ex-husband sitting at his desk, watching porn in front of their bed.

Nothing.

Not a single sign he’d ever even been there.

For the next few hours, she’d been inconsolable, weeping and crying in Ken’s apartment as she desperately dialed his phone, her old colleagues, even his family….and gotten nothing.

His family hadn’t even been aware she’d gotten divorced from him, in fact. He’d never gotten around to telling them. And once it became clear that she was already married and had a child that basic math suggested had been conceived during her marriage to her ex, they’d cut her off completely.

Her former colleagues had been somewhat less rude, but had also made it clear whose side they were on.

And so, with that, her ex-husband had vanished from her life.

From the outside, one might’ve argued that she’d upgraded in every way that counted. Ken was a good provider with a stable job and attractive appearance. He was a devoted husband in the sense that he was possessive, financially stable, and sexually active with her in a way that her ex had never been.

But she couldn’t help but hate him.

It had taken a talk with one of the nicer housewives from the apartment complex who hadn’t shunned her over her infidelity to realize how twisted the entire situation had been from the start.

“Couldn’t you, I dunno, have faked having sex with him?” she’d asked after hearing her out.

“What?” Misaki asked, shocked.

“I mean, there was no camera present, right? Your ex didn’t ask for proof, either. He just wanted the fantasy of you cheating. So why’d you have sex?”

It had never occurred to her until that point. Not once.

They could’ve just lied about having sex and either hung out or gone their separate ways after leaving her apartment that first night. There had been zero necessity to actually go through with it.

So why had they had sex?

Because Ken had insisted on it.

Ken had insisted on going through with her husband’s fetish to the final letter. Ken had been the one to cross the line and grow more possessive of her as time went by. Ken had been the one to push her to divorce her husband and be his. He’d used his “loneliness” as an excuse, telling her he’d never behave the way her ex did with her. That he’d cherish her.

But did he?

Other than sex – and only whenever he wasn’t feeling like rough, dominating sex – what part of his behavior towards her had actually been loving?

He made her dress in ways that had made her uncomfortable, called her a bitch, degraded her…put a baby in her and expected her to be a housewife.

By contrast, her ex might’ve had a weird kink, but he’d never put guardrails on Misaki. Never talked down to her or tried to dominate her. Never held her up to any sort of professional or domestic expectations. If anything, most people would’ve said she had all the power in their relationship.

So why had she just gone along with it?

Was it the thrill of being desired the way Ken had? Was it the guilt in her heart that had festered with every sexual encounter that made her so easily manipulable?

Whatever it was, she laid the blame for all of it at Ken’s feet – and now her beloved ex was gone as well.

Because of Ken.

Five years passed since then, and she had never again let Ken touch her. On the day she had come to terms with the fact that her ex had, in fact, left the apartment complex for good – after months of trying to deny that reality – she had told Ken in no uncertain terms that she would stay with him for their child’s sake, but in every other respect, they were through.

“Why?” he’d asked stoically.

“I hate you,” she’d said.

“…Why?”

“Because of you, the love of my life is gone. And I will never forgive you for that.”

She hadn’t needed to elaborate, and he hadn’t pressed. Ken Kajiki had needed no further words to explain how absolute her conviction was now that her ex was gone. The look in her eyes had said everything for her – the guilt she felt, the regret, the despair, and the hatred for him. And in his, she could see the utter lack of regret for his duplicity.

“…I would’ve been a good husband,” he’d told her. “A better one.”

She’d slapped him. Hard.

“Shoto may have had his issues, but he’s still a million times the better man than you ever will be,” she’d hissed.

And with that, their marriage had ended.

Not officially – she’d kept her word and stayed his wife and cared for their son – but in every functional respect, they might as well have been strangers cohabitating. Their rooms were separate, she did not even pretend to be affectionate towards him, either in public or private, and patently refused to have anything to do with him in terms of sexual activity.

Their son, whom she’d spitefully named Shoto over Ken’s objections, was the sole receiver of her affection – not least of which because he looked nothing like Ken, having mostly inherited her traits.

And then, as her son turned five, it was time to enter kindergarten, and she had ignored all of Ken’s offers to help her pick a good school, taking on the task of scouting them out, visiting and talking to the teachers, and drafting a budget herself. Every time the question of both parents being present for an interview came up, she made excuses for why Ken couldn’t make it – even though she simultaneously never told him a damn thing.

By the time she’d settled on her pick, all she’d done was quietly place a manila folder on the table between them while they had dinner, her adorable son oblivious to the dynamics at play, and told him that was the school Shoto was going to and how much he’d have to pay.

After years of this, Ken had learned enough to know to just nod and accept it.

And so her son began kindergarten, and she was thrilled to see that he was enjoying himself. Then came a fateful moment, months into his first year there, where she’d been called into school over a teacher’s concerns.

Apparently, for show and tell, Shoto had produced a photo calling it Misaki’s most treasured belonging.

It had been a photo of herself and her ex-husband, Shoto, on their wedding day.

And when one of the kids had innocently asked if that was his dad, Shoto Jr. had denied it – setting off quite a bit of chaos.

Leading to Misaki visiting the school to meet her son’s teacher, Mari Kurokawa.

She’d already met Mari before, of course, during the initial orientation. And she’d seemed like a pleasant young woman – beautiful, mid-20’s, cheerful disposition and eminently sociable.

Which was why, once the pleasantries were over and they were alone, she was surprised by Mari’s behavior.

“So, you’re the whore.”

Misaki stared in shock at the young woman before her.

“What?”

The young woman before her never stopped smiling sweetly as she tilted her head to the side and regarded her.

“I can see why Shoto loved you.”

In that moment, Misaki froze in her seat, the angry retort she’d been formulating to the previous insult dead in the water.

She knew Mari hadn’t meant Shoto Jr.

“What…what did you say?”

Mari leaned forward, resting her chin atop her folded hands. “Shoto Sasaki,” she elaborated. “Name rings a bell, doesn’t it?”

Oh, it did. It very much did.

“H-How do you know that name?” Misaki asked in a hollow whisper.

Mari replied by simply removing one hand from underneath her chin – her left hand, to be specific – and slowly turned it around so Misaki could see the back of it.

And the golden band and diamond-encrusted engagement ring on her ring finger.

“N-No…”

Mari kept up her sweet smile. “Yes.”

“B-But, your name…”

“My maiden name,” Mari said, cutting her off. “I was working here already when I met Shoto, and after we married, it just seemed like a hassle to change all the paperwork, so I go by Kurokawa here, but Mari Sasaki everywhere else.”

“You…he…”

Mari tilted her head again. “I don’t think you’re much one to be so shocked and outraged, Mrs. Kajiki,” she observed. “It’s not like I was poaching a taken man.”

Misaki flinched.

“You know, ever since I met and fell in love with Shoto, I wondered how I’d feel, how I’d act, if I ever got to meet you,” Mari said, leaning back into her chair. “Would I slap you for what you did to him? Punch you? Just scream? Be snide? Maybe just ignore you or be polite?”

She shrugged. “But I figured it was all fantasy – after all, I wasn’t about to facilitate a reunion between you two after what he went through, and I figured that even if you were pregnant – which he told me about – what were the odds your kid would come here, and then be in my classroom?”

She chuckled. “More fool me, right?”

Misaki swallowed. “Is…Is he well?”

“And what makes you think you have a right to know?” Mari retorted sharply.

Misaki flinched. “That’s…!” she paused before bowing her head. “That’s…fair.”

Mari eyed her for a moment, rave bobcut hair swaying softly thanks to the AC. She sighed. “Well, that’s no fun,” she lamented. “Why does it feel like I’m the bad guy here when you’re the one who left her husband for some sidepiece dick?”

Misaki remained silent, her hands curled into fists on her lap as she fought back tears.

“Hold up—are you crying?!”

That broke the dam.

Misaki sobbed as her hands flew to her face, futilely trying to hide her tears as she wept in her seat, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces again.

Mari, for her part, seemed flustered and unsure what to do as she hesitantly tried to simultaneously comfort her and reprimand her for having the gall to cry over losing such a good man as Shoto – only for that to trigger another round of crying.

In all, it took her half an hour to calm down enough for Mari, looking a little disheveled and flustered and holding a now-empty container for tissues, to sit back down in her own seat, looking at her oddly.

“What on earth was that?!” she demanded, tossing the empty container aside. “Why are you crying like he’s the one that left you?! You cheated on him and left him for some jock asshole!”

“I didn’t!” Misaki protested. “I…I mean, I did! B-But not really! I…I…!”

Another half an hour of crying later, Misaki was finally able to string a more coherent explanation together.

“Y-You know about his fetish?” she asked.

Mari looked at her as though she was the weirdo here. “No?”

Misaki was shocked. “He…he didn’t tell you about his cheating kink?”

“Oh, that?” Mari replied. “He’s over that.”

“Over…that?”

Mari shrugged. “It was self-esteem issues. Most kinks and fetishes have psychological roots, so once he brought up what happened with you and that dick, I told him in no uncertain terms I’d never go through with such a thing and demanded he go to therapy,” she explained. “Turns out, like I suspected, he’d developed the fetish due to crippling body image insecurities rooted in his adolescence, which led to a crushed self-esteem, and a belief that he was fundamentally unworthy of any woman he was with.”

“B-But that’s not true!”

Mari nodded. “I know. That’s why I made him go to therapy,” she pointed out. “After that, well, it was just a matter of helping him with his self-affirmations, helping him lose a little weight to improve his self-image, and teaching him to love himself as he is.” She dug out her phone and with a few hand gestures brought up a picture, which she then showed Misaki. “Here – that’s what he looks like these days.”

Misaki felt her breath hitch. It really was Shoto. He wasn’t lean and athletic like Ken was, sure, but he’d definitely lost a few pounds. His face was a little less round, his clothes were also visibly a size smaller than she was used to, and he was standing a little straighter.

Next to Mari.

Who was carrying an infant girl in her arms.

“That…”

“Our daughter, Mina,” Mari informed her, having seen where her eyes had gone to in the picture. “Three years old now.”

That wasn’t fair.

That just wasn’t fucking fair.

Misaki had tried, time and again, to get pregnant with Shoto. She’d even accepted the whole arrangement with Ken because it seemed to excite Shoto enough for him to last long enough in bed to finish inside her.

And yet she’d never gotten pregnant with Shoto’s child – her beloved’s child.

But this woman had succeeded.

Why?

She felt her tear ducts burn as they began to produce more tears. She felt exhausted, gutted, and lost. This woman had the relationship Misaki wanted, whereas Misaki was condemned to a life she didn’t want.

“I…gotta confess, I did not expect you to be this way,” Mari said, eyeing her oddly. “Or this conversation.”

Misaki gave a hollow chuckle as she continued to gaze lovingly at her ex-husband’s photo.

“Kinda expected you to be more defensive, more…I dunno…”

“Whorish?” Misaki offered.

Mari didn’t say anything, but nodded.

“I’ve regretted letting go of Shoto for the past five years,” Misaki said, her throat hurting from all the sobbing she’d been doing in the past hour. She ran a loving hand over Shoto’s form in the picture. “Once…” she swallowed. “Once I realized what I’d lost, what my current husband had taken from me with his manipulations and lies…I felt…bereft.”

“Yet you’re still with him,” Mari observed softly.

Misaki gave a dry chuckle. “Because of Shoto Jr.,” she said flatly. “I haven’t let that man touch me otherwise in five years. Not since the day I realized Shoto was gone. He might be my husband on paper, but that’s all he is.”

She looked up at Mari with conviction. “I hate my current husband, Miss Kurokawa.”

Mari gave a wry giggle. “Bet that stings him something fierce.”

Misaki shrugged. “No more than the slap I gave him when he tried to claim he’d be a better husband than Shoto.”

“Well, damn. Now I want to slap him.”

Misaki chuckled in return. “Be my guest.”

Both women laughed, relishing the idea of slapping the ever-loving shit out of Ken Kajiki. But as the laughter died down, Misaki sighed as she stared at the photo one last time before handing the phone back to Mari.

“Thank you for showing me that,” she said softly. “I…I’ve always regretted not knowing what happened to him. On top of all the other guilt, I mean.”

Mari nodded as she retook her phone and slipped it into her pocket. “I can see that,” she said. She paused for a moment before sighing and looking up at the ceiling, prompting Misaki to look at her curiously.

“I’m going to regret this,” Mari mumbled aloud.

“Miss Kurokawa?”

Mari looked back down to make eye contact with Misaki. “Do you want to see him?”

Misaki froze. “What?”

“Do you. Want. To see. Shoto?” Mari bit out reluctantly. “In person.”

“I…Miss Kurokawa, that’s very kind and understanding of you, but—”

“Forget propriety for once,” Mari cut her off. “Look, I don’t enjoy admitting this, but as happy and complete as Shoto and I are, I also know that when you left him, part of him died. And no matter how much I’ve tried, that part is always going to be out of reach for me. So if you two meeting can get him the closure he needs…” she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Then I’m willing to arrange a meeting.”

Misaki was stunned, to say the least. Out of every possible outcome of this meeting, getting the chance to see Shoto again – her beloved Shoto – had not been among those she’d expected. Part of her wanted to jump at the chance in a heartbeat…but another pointed out that she’d be doing so with duplicitous intentions – could she, after all, guarantee that upon seeing him, she wouldn’t try to lure him back to her own side?

She knew she’d dump Ken in a heartbeat if it meant Shoto came back to her, after all. Hurting Ken meant nothing to her after what he’d done to her marriage.

But could she do the same to Mari, who had heard her out, who had – introductions aside – been nothing but kind to her, and was now willing to let her meet her husband – in spite of all the potential risks that entailed?

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted.

Mari eyed her warily. “You still love my Shoto, don’t you?” she asked softly.

Misaki winced at the possessive ‘my’ that Mari had used, but nodded. “I do…so much,” she confirmed. “It’s been…hell living with my current husband and not knowing how Shoto’s doing.”

“You…never really wanted to leave him, did you?”

Misaki shook her head fiercely, tears again threatening to spill. “N-Never,” she said, sounding broken. “I…I just thought…he seemed to enjoy the fantasy of it all…and my husband…”

“I think I get the picture,” Mari said, before sighing and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I won’t lie, Mrs. Kajiki.” Misaki flinched at the use of her married name. “I don’t have a great deal of esteem for you even knowing what I do now. Everything you did was your own choice. Manipulated by that asshat you married, sure, but they were still your choices.”

“I…I know…”

“But,” Mari continued insistently. “At the same time, I can see you’re being genuine. That you really do love Shoto and you regret going through with that insane scheme. So, against my better judgment, I’m still willing to make the offer to arrange a meeting.”

Mari then extended a hand at her and kept it hovering over the space between them.

“What do you say?”

“Deal.”

The handshake the two women had shared that day ultimately laid the groundwork for the repairing of two broken lives and the destruction of one poorly lived. With Misaki on board, Mari had gotten to work then to slowly ease Shoto into the idea of meeting his ex-wife. It wasn’t easy – Shoto was understandably concerned about the emotional fallout, and he didn’t want his new wife to have to worry about him running back to his ex.

But Mari had insisted, and made it clear that she’d be there as well – albeit for the start, before giving them some space to talk. Besides, it’d be under the Sasaki roof, so they’d be at home advantage.

Ultimately, that persistence is what Shoto to agree.

And so, two weeks after Mari and Misaki had made their deal, Misaki visited the new Sasaki household – a part of her shocked to find out that they actually didn’t live that far away – only about 20 minutes from the apartment complex where she still lived. She did note, somewhat jealously, that unlike the apartment she shared with her current husband, Mari and Shoto lived in a detached house – complete with garden. When she and Shoto had been married, they’d dreamed of buying such a house once she got pregnant.

But whatever bitterness she felt evaporated the moment the door opened and Shoto was there to greet her.

In that instant, all the love and happiness and joy for a spouse she’d felt absent of over the past five years seemed to rush back to the fore. The moment she saw his kind eyes, that shy smile, and even that pudgy exterior – though less pudgy than she remembered – she’d had to fight back the urge to tackle him and kiss him silly.

Mari, of course, was there as well, and she doubted the woman had missed the look of ecstatic joy that had crossed her face when she’d seen Shoto.

Nonetheless, the pair invited her into their home – and it was indeed a lovely home, and Mari proved to be a gracious and great host. She explained that they originally lived in her apartment once they’d gotten together – but it had felt a bit cramped, especially once she’d gotten pregnant. And once that announcement had hit, Shoto had quickly gone job hunting for a better paying job and managed to obtain such a position – earning enough to responsibly put down a loan to buy this house. After taking a break for maternity leave, Mari had returned to the workforce as a kindergarten teacher, and so their double income allowed them to pay the mortgage and hire a sitter as well.

After the initial welcome, however, Mari had graciously excused herself “to make dinner” while Misaki and Shoto remained in the living room.

For a moment, neither party was able to say anything, just staring at the floor between them.

And then, Shoto spoke first.

“I…I missed you.”

Misaki’s head shot up so fast she feared a sonic boom might erupt as she stared at him.

“I…I missed you, too,” she replied hesitantly, her eyes instinctively going over to find Mari in the kitchen – a wellspring of guilt building up inside. She had to remind herself that she was not here to steal another woman’s husband. This was about closure.

“A…Are you happy?” he asked tentatively.

Misaki again searched out for Mari, who seemed unaware of the conversation as she cooked on in the kitchen. She then turned back to Shoto, who looked at her somewhat resignedly.

Huh.

Mari hadn’t told him.

“No,” she replied. “I…I hate my husband,” she told him honestly.

His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing dangerously as he seemed to search her. “H-He doesn’t…he’s not…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Hitting you, is he?”

A snort from the kitchen was enough confirmation that Mari was indeed listening in, though Misaki couldn’t help but snort herself as well. “No, nothing like that,” she assured him.

He stared at her for a moment before his gaze dropped. “He’s not…cheating on you, is he?”

Almost instinctively, Misaki’s own gaze dropped to her ex-husband’s crotch, half-expecting to see a bulge there. In the past, just the thought of a cheating situation had been enough to get Shoto going. And although Mari had assured her that his cheating kink had been dealt with, Misaki hadn’t been able to shake the suspicion that it might not.

And yet, she found nothing.

No sign whatsoever of arousal or sexual interest.

As she raised her eyes again, she found Mari staring at her with a knowing smirk and a wink that seemed to say, “told ya.”

She blushed before shaking her head at Shoto. “Not that I’m aware of,” she told him. “But, frankly, even if he did, I wouldn’t care.”

Shoto seemed surprised by this, but she spied Mari nodding sagely in the background.

“B-But I thought you loved him?”

Misaki shook her head. “Not once have I ever told that man I loved him,” she informed him honestly.

The utterly flummoxed look on Shoto’s face would’ve been cute if it hadn’t been tinged with equal parts despair and trauma.

“Th-Then…why did you leave me?!”

“Shoto, dear…calm down,” Mari said having practically materialized out of thin air beside her husband as he stood, heaving deep breaths and looking on the verge of a panic attack. His pudgy hands were curled into trembling fists at his sides, the look in his eyes wild. “Give her a chance to explain.”

The look Mari shot Misaki said enough on that end.

Misaki sighed deeply before bowing before Shoto. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “Back then…all I could think about was that I’d never seen you so enthusiastic and happy. Our sex life had improved significantly the more I engaged with…that man. And, as things escalated, he began to lie to me and manipulate me into being more and more daring, into detaching myself from you and being with him, under the excuse that it would please you. Even my pregnancy…even my child was something he convinced me you would enjoy.”

“What an awful man,” Mari hissed. Misaki nodded in agreement.

“B-But you m-married him! You’re s-still married to him!” Shoto said, sounding almost desperate.

“Because of my child,” she clarified, looking back up to shoot him a sad smile. “I was reluctant to leave him only because it might’ve hurt Shoto Jr.”

Shoto reeled at the name of her son, as both she and Mari had expected. He flopped back onto his cushy chair, looking stunned.

“Shoto…Junior?” he asked, sounding hollow.

Misaki nodded, bringing up a picture on her phone. She hesitated to show him, though, eyeing both him and Mari. “D-Do you want to see him?”

She watched the couple exchange glances – Shoto unsure, Mari more confident – before both regarded her and nodded. Smiling, she handed over her phone, and she watched as Shoto sucked in a breath while Misaki cooed.

“Oh, he really does look so much like his mom!” Mari said – though she’d already seen Shoto in class, after all.

“Thankfully,” Misaki added.

“He’s…so much like you,” Shoto said, running a hesitant hand over the screen. “His eyes, particularly.”

She felt her heart flutter a little. People usually made the comparison between Shoto Jr. and her based on his face and personality. Shoto, however, had always loved her eyes and told her as much when they were married. For him to focus on that one aspect with her son now had momentarily transported her back to that initial married bliss.

“W-What about his siblings?”

Misaki looked at Shoto curiously. “Shoto Jr. is an only child.”

Again, that seemed to blow Shoto’s mind. “B-But…I would’ve thought…”

“Like I said: I hate my husband,” she reminded him. “I haven’t let him touch me in five years. Even our bedrooms are separate.”

The way Shoto looked relieved, happy, despairing, and resigned all at once played her emotions like a chaotic fiddle. Mari, for her part, seemed just as aware of his reaction and looked – much to Misaki’s growing guilt – resignedly sad about it.

“I-I just came to let you know the truth,” Misaki quickly told Shoto, eager to get back on track. “That I never left you because I loved that man. Never. Not once did I ever think or feel that way. If it hadn’t been for his manipulations, I would’ve never done any of it.”

The news seemed to cheer Shoto up a bit, earning her a look of gratitude from Mari, and soon after, dinner was called and the awkward chat was finally brought to an end. With the truth now out, Shoto seemed to relax around Misaki more, allowing the three adults to share a pleasant dinner where, much to her surprise, she found herself and Mari becoming a sort of tag team against Shoto, teasing him as only two women who’d been or are his wife could.

Eventually, as Shoto left to go the bathroom, Misaki found herself alone with Mari again, and the other woman smiled at her.

“You know, I was afraid I was making a mistake inviting you here to meet with him,” she confessed. “I was terrified he’d fall in love with you all over again and leave me and our daughter for a chance to be with you again.”

“I would never do that to you,” Misaki told her firmly. “It would make me no better than my current husband, and I’d rather die than be like that.”

Mari grinned. “Well said.”

The night progressed a bit more after that, but by the time Misaki left, she felt in much better spirits than she’d been in five years. Not only had she been able to help Shoto know the truth, but she’d managed to make a tentative friend out of his current wife – who, thorny start aside, proved to be a vivacious, charming woman in her own right.

Of course, when she got back home, her husband had already returned from work and, after unashamedly admitting where she was, had been less than pleased with her response.

“I thought you were done with him,” he growled.

“That was when I thought I was helping him,” she’d snapped back coldly. “But it turns out I was just being toyed with by a manipulative asshole.”

Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going back to him?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “No. He’s married, and unlike someone I could mention, I’m not the type to break up another person’s marriage.”

Ken scowled before retreating back to his room, leaving her somewhat pleased with the outcome of that particular exchange.

Over the next few weeks, Misaki made sure to keep up her growing friendship with Mari and Shoto. As much as it hurt her own heart to see them enjoying the blissful married life she’d always envisioned having with Shoto, she was simultaneously glad that her beloved ex had managed to find happiness – even if with another woman.

At the same time, she began to visit Mari and Shoto at their place, becoming an increasingly common fixture at their home – having even met Mina. The little girl was adorably bubbly and energetic, and seeing how kind and playful Misaki was with her, Mari even suggested she bring over Shoto Jr. one day.

And she did.

Mina and Shoto Jr. hit it off immediately, with the little girl all but claiming him as her playmate, while he seemed more than happy to have someone new to play with. Under the watchful eye of the three adults, Mina and Shoto Jr. would run around and play at virtually anything they could think of – with Shoto Jr. more often than not just acquiescing to Mina’s game requests, much to the adults’ amusement.

Back home, however, Misaki’s married life was fraying ever more. Now that she was openly visiting and meeting with her ex and his wife, Ken had become more and more foul-tempered – but never more so than five months in, when Shoto Jr. had happily called Mina his little sister.

“THAT IS NOT YOUR SISTER!” Ken had screamed at his son, who’d flinched and cowered at the sudden outburst.

Shoto Jr.’s eyes watered and his lips trembled as a sob built up in his throat while Misaki rounded on Ken, eyes ablaze with maternal fury.

“How dare you shout at our son!” she hissed at him.

“How dare I?!” Ken snapped back, slamming his hands on the table, scowling at her. “What about you?! You swore to me you’d never go back to that pathetic loser, and now you’re gallivanting around with him and his new bitch and spawn with our son?! Getting him to call her his little sister?!”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort – and you be damn careful about insulting Mari and Mina!” Misaki shot back. “Shoto Jr. called her that all on his own! I didn’t have to tell him to do anything!”

“Yet you won’t teach him to call me dad,” he hissed at her.

She glowered right back, crossing her arms. “I might’ve if you’d ever acted like one.”

Ken scowled. Unfortunately for him, she was right.

On the day she’d told him she hated him, Ken had functionally abandoned his marriage completely – and that included his son. He never asked after Shoto Jr. He never attended any medical appointments. Never played with his son. Never interacted with his son. Never addressed him unless it was to quiet him down or to tell him to go to Misaki.

As far as Ken Kajiki had behaved over the past five years, he had no child – he was just some guy cohabitating with a woman and her son.

“I’ve had enough,” he said with a dangerous growl. “I’m putting my foot down. Either you stop going to visit those idiots—”

“Or what?” Misaki dared him. “You’ll divorce me?”

Ken scowled. “That’s right.”

Misaki scoffed as she swept Shoto Jr. into her arms and patted him comfortingly. “Then you’d be doing me a favor,” she told him flatly. “Come on, baby, let’s go to our room.”

“We’re not done here, Misaki!” Ken snapped at her as she turned away from him.

She paused to look over her shoulder at him. “I think we are,” she countered. “Since you have such a problem with the people I choose to be friendly with and who our son associates with, you can do it all on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you’re really threatening divorce, then you better get those papers ready,” she told him flatly. “You can mail them to the Sasaki household.”

“You…You bitch! You’re really going there right now?!” he yelled at her.

“And why not?” she challenged him, glaring up at him. “They have a guest room, they love Shoto Jr. – unlike someone I could mention – and even if they can’t have me in their house, as long as my son is safe, that’s good enough for me! I’ll just get a hotel!”

He got right up to her face and glared into her eyes. “I’m warning, you Misaki. You go out that door, and…”

“Do it,” she dared him.

The two adults stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity before Ken ultimately blinked first, clicked his tongue irritably, and walked away. Misaki felt her legs shake from repressed fear, but took a deep breath to calm her nerves before walking into her room with Shoto Jr. – who was still sniffling and whimpering from all the shouting – and quickly grabbed as many of her things and Shoto Jr.’s and threw them into a suitcase. Within fifteen minutes, they were out of the apartment, in her car, and leaving the apartment complex – having made a call as she pulled out her car to Shoto and Mari to let them know what had gone down.

The couple, much to her relief, had been supportive and understanding and gladly offered up their guest room to her and Shoto Jr.

Still, it wasn’t until she was in the guest room, Shoto Jr. asleep with Mina in her room – after the little girl had offered to comfort her “big brother” – that she’d finally felt safe enough to relax and release all that built-up tension.

She cried.

Misaki sobbed for what seemed like ages as yet another marriage of hers imploded. She’d hated Ken, sure, but she couldn’t help but feel as though she was somehow cursed. Rationally, she knew their marriage had an expiration date the moment Shoto had left her life five years ago, but it still hurt.

But as she heard the soft knock on her door and saw Mari and Shoto looking at her with acceptance and concern, Misaki couldn’t help but feel some of that anxiety wash away.

Yes, her marriage had ended.

But perhaps better things now awaited.

In the coming months, Misaki put a final end to her marriage with Ken Kajiki via a no-fault, mutually agreed divorce. She wasn’t interested in getting any of his assets. Frankly, the less beholden she was to him, the better.

However, the judge had ruled in favor of alimony to be paid to her on account of child rearing costs. As such, as much as she’d wanted a clean break – heck, Ken had even agreed to give her full custody of Shoto Jr. – she still had some side income coming in from her now second ex-husband.

Which proved to be somewhat excessive given she was living rent-free in the Sasaki household. It was more than enough to pay for Shoto Jr.’s tuition at the kindergarten and any clothing he needed – and even then, Shoto and Mari were such good people that they often helped out by giving him “gifts” in the form of clothes, toys, and outings. Heck, Misaki was only able to contribute to household costs by paying for groceries after she’d insisted on it with Shoto and Mari, having no wish to be a freeloader.

For the Sasaki couple, on the other hand, having Misaki around proved to be a godsend in terms of childcare. They’d been hiring sitters for the most part given that both parents worked, but with Misaki around and willing to care for Mina as much as for Shoto Jr., they were able to cut that cost and leave their daughter in the hands of a trusted adult.

Plus, Mari found herself growing closer and closer to Misaki as the two women basically ran the household together, becoming each other’s confidante and close friend.

All in all, it seemed like the Sasaki household had grown brighter and more lively with the arrival of Misaki and Shoto Jr.

If one had to point to something troubling, on the other hand, it was an incident that took place about a year into the current cohabitation situation. Shoto, Mari, and Misaki had put the kids to sleep and opted for a night in with a bottle of wine. A few cups in, the day’s exhaustion and tension relieved, had left the three adults a little too chatty.

And amidst that, Shoto had said – or rather drunkenly slurred – the one thing he really ought not to have.

“I love you, Misaki…”

That had sobered up both women real quick. Mari’s face looked devastated and despairing, while Misaki tried to control her own joy to comfort her friend and assure her that she wasn’t trying anything and would leave if need—

“I love you, Mari…”

And that had caused a bit of a problem.

“I love ya both…”

A real big problem.

When Shoto had been informed of his drunken confession the next day, he’d been horrified and apologized profusely for his actions – particularly to Mari. Mari, for her part, seemed conflicted with this new information, and Misaki was torn between being overjoyed and being worried at how this might affect her friendship with Mari and Shoto – as well as what might happen to Shoto Jr. and her living situation.

The issue remained at a standstill for all of a very tense and anxious month before Mari had sighed one night after the kids were put to bed and, on the couch between Shoto and Misaki, had mumbled,

“Ah, fuck it.”

Then grabbed both of them by the head, and pulled them towards each other, almost making them kiss.

“Mari!”

“Dear!”

“I don’t like it,” Mari said over them, her head bowed and lips trembling. “I don’t. Part of me just wants to tell Misaki she has to go. But I can’t.”

“Mari, I can—”

“No, you can’t,” Mari interrupted Misaki with a jerky shake of the head. “It wouldn’t be right, I wouldn’t feel right. As much as I really wish it weren’t so right now, you’re my best friend, Misaki.”

She turned to Shoto. “And you, mister!” he flinched at her raised voice, only to see her smiling sadly. “You’re my wonderful, stupidly loyal husband. I know that if I asked you to, you wouldn’t touch Misaki. Just like I know Misaki wouldn’t try to break us up.”

“I wouldn’t,” Misaki affirmed sincerely.

“I know,” Mari said before taking in a shaky breath. “Which is why I’m fine with this.”

“…Mari?” Shoto asked.

“If you two still love each other,” Mari said, closing her eyes as she tried to draw strength. “I’m…fine…if you end up being…intimate.”

“Mari, no!” Misaki protested.

“Mari, she’s right – I’ve been there! It’s not pleasant!”

“I know!” Mari snapped before calming down. “I know…I hate even just thinking about it,” she admitted softly. “But I know you love me,” she told Shoto with a loving, sad smile. “I know I’m not playing second fiddle to anyone. But I also know you still love Misaki.”

She turned to Misaki. “And I know you still love Shoto – for goodness’ sake, girl, you’ve got the world’s most awful poker face in that regard. If it weren’t for the fact that Shoto here is dense as lead, he would’ve realized that a thousand times by now!”

Both Misaki and Shoto blushed at that, but Mari wasn’t done.

“So, I’m…fine with it,” she said with a deep breath, nodding to herself. “I mean, I will be. Eventually.”

“Mari…I love you and I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but this is just like what happened before with—”

“No, it’s not,” Mari cut her husband off firmly. “Because we’re setting ground rules and penalties.”

She stared at both of them in sequence. “First of all, nothing is secret between us. Nothing. You two don’t do secret dates, you don’t sneak around, no secret trips – nothing,” she told them. “Everything is out in the open. We get each other’s phone passwords, share banking info, turn on Find my Phone for each other – the whole works.”

She stared at them. “This can only work if we trust each other, but I don’t think any of us are in a position to give that trust blindly right now.”

Shoto and Misaki shared a look before looking back at Mari, seeing her determined face, and slowly nodding.

“Good. Second, we do everything that matters together,” she said.

“Like what?”

“All the family stuff,” Mari clarified. “Lunch, dinner, vacation trips, school events – everything. I’ll go to Shoto Jr.’s events just as much as I go to Mina’s, and Misaki goes to Mina’s as much as she goes to Shoto Jr.’s. And you, mister, go to both in equal amounts!”

“So, no one feels excluded…” Misaki reasoned.

“Exactly,” Mari confirmed. “And that’s the third rule: no favoritism. I promise to try and be as attentive to Shoto Jr. as I am to Mina, Misaki promises to be as attentive to Mina as she is with Shoto Jr., and you have to be attentive to both.”

Misaki eyed Shoto cautiously at that. Unlike Mina, Shoto Jr. had no biological links to his namesake. He was, in the end, the child she’d borne for the man who’d destroyed their marriage. Frankly, she half-expected him to just say no and have this whole idea fall flat.

“Of course.”

…only to be pleasantly surprised and feel a wellspring of ecstatic joy at how matter-of-factly he’d accepted taking on a parental role for Shoto Jr. She swore to herself then and there that if this arrangement actually worked out, she would not just rock his world in bed, but make sure to actually bear his child this time around.

“I agree, too,” Misaki added happily.

Mari nodded, shooting her a knowing smile. “Fourth – we discuss everything. Open communication. No petty grudges, no silent treatment, no passive-aggression. If there’s a problem, we communicate. Like me, just now – I don’t like this, but I love you both too much to lose either of you to my petty dislike.”

Misaki hugged Mari tightly as Shoto leaned in and kissed his wife.

“Agreed,” Shoto told her after breaking off the kiss.

“Agreed,” Misaki added as she squeezed her best friend.

Mari chuckled awkwardly. “Good to see some enthusiasm – though I don’t know how to feel about that,” she admitted before sighing and collecting herself. “Fifth – sex.”

An awkward silence descended on the living room.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, but we have to,” Mari said after a pause. “What I don’t want is anyone being accused of sneaking off to fuck, so we need to be clear about this.”

She looked at Shoto, then Misaki. “We’ll sleep in the same bed,” she told them. “I don’t really care in what configuration – Shoto doesn’t need to be in the middle – but come the end of the day, we sleep in the same bed. And…” she paused to swallow. “…and when it comes time to having sex, we let each other know.”

All three blushed.

“W-What I mean is, we don’t keep it a secret,” she stammered out, blushing furiously. “Maybe not like a video call or something, but a head’s up. We just…we make it clear when we’re having sex, and if one of us or more are uncomfortable with that, we hit the brakes.”

Misaki and Shoto slowly nodded.

“B-But, Mari…if we sleep in the same bed, then…”

Mari turned a deeper shade of crimson. “On…On those nights, we…” she paused to collect herself. “…We decide in the moment. If the third wants to…stay—” all three began to feel light-headed from how much blushing was taking place. “—then if it’s fine with the other two, they do. We’ll have the guest room done up and kept up in case the third wants to sleep.”

Misaki swallowed as she eyed both of her potential life partners. “L-Look, these are just ground rules, alright?! We’ll…We’ll change them as needed as we go along!”

Shoto and Misaki looked a little taken aback by the forcefulness of Mari’s tone, but then eyed each other, chuckled, and leaned in to hug Mari – Shoto planting a soft kiss on his wife’s forehead, while Misaki just cuddled up against her.

“Agreed.”

In the end, none of the three needn’t have been so anxious. While the first few weeks had been somewhat awkward under the new arrangement, the looks of delight on Mina and Shoto Jr.’s faces when they realized that Misaki, Mari, and Shoto were all acting like husband and wives had helped seal the deal for the adults. Mina and Shoto Jr. were particularly happy to run around proclaiming each other their sibling and both kids seemed happy to embrace their new parent(s). Maybe it was an age thing.

Regardless, after a few bumps in the road as the three adults acclimatized to the new living arrangements, they gradually found their rhythm and soon after had rapidly eased into it. Sex had been the main stickler in this initial period – Misaki tended to be a very vocal and aggressive lover, while Mari enjoyed more sensual, slow-paced lovemaking, but Shoto proved to be a flexible enough lover to satisfy both while allowing neither to feel neglected.

In that respect, the arrangement of “date nights,” “girls’ night,” and “Shoto time” had been a great boon in keeping things balanced. On date nights, Shoto would take either Misaki or Mari – and occasionally both – on a date, usually culminating in sex. On girls’ night, Shoto would act as babysitter while Mari and Misaki would deepen their friendship by going out together to shop, to the movies, theater, or wherever else they pleased. And on Shoto Time, the girls would stay at home with the kids while Shoto went out on the town – usually with friends and colleagues to have a beer and just socialize.

After that, the three’s arrangements had weathered their growing pains and, by the second year of this arrangement, Shoto, Mari, and Misaki were willing to admit that they were simply a throuple – culminating in their first, very awkward threesome. That one took a while to get used to for the three – especially since Misaki and Mari were strictly heterosexual and thus not really into girl-on-girl stuff, but like everything else, the three found their particular rhythm in this aspect as well.

But the true victory came in the third year of their relationship – when Mina finally called Misaki “Mama Mi,” while Shoto Jr. called Mari “Mama” – differentiated from Misaki’s “Mommy.”

The whole family celebrated this milestone with a trip to Universal Studios Japan as the three adults – Shoto, Mari, and Misaki – indulged in the bliss of a life finally put right.

As for Ken Kajiki…

…Well, who gave a fuck?

Chapter 23: Moving On

Chapter Text

“What…the fuck is this?”

I felt my heart stop mid-beat as I held my little brother’s phone in my hand, the screen lit up and showing me the most nightmarish thing I could’ve imagined.

My naked wife…peeing on a pregnancy stick.

Why was it on my little brother’s phone?

“G-Give it back!”

With casual ease, I grabbed Hiroshi’s grasping wrist and, with strength I didn’t know I had, clamped down on it like a vice. He yelped in pain, his other hand grasping at mine, trying to claw me off, but I held firm.

My eyes were glued to the screen. My words, however, were directed at the woman beside me, her chopsticks falling from her loose grip as she turned deathly pale.

“H-Honey, I can explain…”

I can explain.

I have never hated three words more in my life.

“Isao…”

That sealed the deal.

With a brutal yank, I pulled my brother from across the table onto it, our lunch clattering everywhere as he slammed head first into it. Then, with a vicious twist, I felt his arm twist unnaturally, followed by a sharp crack that couldn’t have been anything other than his bones either breaking or dislocating.

My little brother screamed in pain as I held his arm, my wayward wife scrambling backwards while my father froze in place.

“You…what have you done?!” he asked, horrified.

“Isao-san!” my wife yelled in fright.

“My arm! My fucking arm!”

I let go of the arm, causing Hiroshi to shriek again as the broken/dislocated bones scrapped against nerve endings upon impact, then grabbed the back of his head, and slammed it down onto the table.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“I-Isao! Enough!”

My father was intimidating. All his life, his wide frame, muscled body, and stern glare had been enough to keep me and Hiroshi in line. But I knew something Hiroshi didn’t.

My father was a coward.

All of his intimidating persona came from the appearance of power, rather than any real existence of it. He hated conflict – so he schemed. He hated confrontation – so he undermined. He was petty, arrogant, and stupid.

And a coward.

Which was why I could do this to Hiroshi and despite my father’s protests, he would do nothing about it.

He couldn’t.

It wasn’t in his nature.

I lifted my little brother’s head a final time, this time holding it up so I could glare into his eyes and turned his phone to show it to him.

“How long?” I asked.

“I..bb..sobby…”

I backhanded him with his own phone, cracking the back. My glare intensified. “How…fucking…long?!” I hissed at him.

“S-Six months!” my treacherous wife exclaimed. “P-Please, Isao…we…we can explain!”

“EXPLAIN!?” I roared, once again slamming Hiroshi’s face into the table, causing a sharp crack to ring out as his nose basically exploded against the wood. I turned to glower furiously as my wife. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE TO EXPLAIN, HIKARU?!”

She flinched back from me, cowering as her back hitting the wall. “I-I’m sorry...!”

I turned to my father, who also flinched at my stare. “AND YOU!” I yelled, showing him the picture. “YOU KNEW!?”

He stared in what he probably hoped looked like a stony look. It didn’t. I could see the unapologetic, but fearful guilt in his eyes.

“It…” he swallowed. “It was for the family.”

With a roar, I slammed Hiroshi’s phone into his face, feeling his jaw crack under the blow as he went sprawling onto the ground. He shakily tried to get up, so I kicked him in the sides.

“MY WIFE?!” I roared at him. “MY! WIFE!”

I finally stopped kicking him after getting a few good ones in, leaving my old man a whimpering wreck on the ground. I turned to Hikaru again.

“Tell me he raped you,” I all but pleaded. “Tell me my little brother is a shitstain who raped you, Hikaru, or so help me god…”

But she couldn’t. I could see it in her eyes. The way she refused to make eye contact, how she cowered away from me.

She hadn’t been raped.

This was all planned and executed behind my back with everyone involved’s consent.

This was a fucking nightmare.

So, with no other choice, I chuckled.

Madly.

Insanely.

Heartbroken.

But I chuckled nonetheless.

I finally stopped laughing as I stared up at the ceiling. Despair was swallowing me up. Was it me? Was I simply such a bad son, such a bad brother, such a bad husband that everyone I depended on and loved had turned on me? What in all of creation had I done to deserve being treated this way.

“I-Isao…”

“Shut up.”

Hikaru flinched as the coldness in my voice. I raised my left hand and stared at the golden band on my ring finger. I scoffed softly. I had upheld my wedding vows with all the integrity and kindness I could manage.

And it had gotten me nothing but heartbreak.

Without a second thought, I slid it off my finger – causing Hikaru to gasp – and tossed it at Hiroshi as he lay there on the table, bleeding from the face and a wrecked arm hanging limply over the edge.

“You wanted her that much, Hiroshi? She’s yours,” I told him coldly.

“Isao! You don’t mean that!”

“I do,” I countered Hikaru, glaring at her with all the hate I could muster. “I don’t give a shit what your reasons were, Hikaru. Not anymore. You had six months to come clean to me, and you didn’t.”

“Y-Your father—”

“Is a piece of shit,” I snapped at her, causing her to flinch back. “And if something he said convinced you to go through with this lunacy, then, frankly, so are you.”

“H-He said you couldn’t have children!” she exclaimed desperately as she tried to get up. “Begged me to sleep with Hiroshi so we could have a kid of our own! An heir!”

“WHO GIVES A SHIT?!” I roared at her, causing her to fall back onto the ground, pale-faced and terrified. “DID I EVER ASK YOU TO BEAR MY CHILDREN?! DID I, HIKARU?!”

She trembled at my screams, but said nothing. “If I couldn’t have children, then so fucking be it!” I continued. “We could’ve tried IVF! Adoption, if all else fails! HELL, IF IT MATTERED SO MUCH, WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HAVE IVF WITH THIS LITTLE SHIT’S SPERM?!” I demanded, stomping onto my little brother’s right leg – his dominant one. He screamed in pain in return.

“H-He…”

I stomped over and grabbed her by the face, bringing it close to mine so she could see the hatred in my eyes. Tears were running down her cheeks – and, ordinarily, I would’ve done anything to wipe those away as gently as I could.

Now? I didn’t fucking care.

“Shut. Up,” I hissed at her. “You are no wife of mine. That is no father of mine. And I don’t have a younger brother. You are all dead to me.”

“I-Isao…p-please,” she begged through my hand.

“Don’t come home,” I warned her. “Go anywhere else – go actually visit your parents’ place in Nagano for all I fucking care. But if you come home, Hikaru, I will kill you.”

“Y-You don’t mean that!”

“I fucking do,” I assured her. “Look me in the eyes and see if I’m joking.”

She did – and found nothing she was looking for. She sobbed through my hand.

“I will send the divorce papers here, since you seem so fucking fond of my father and brother,” I told her as I let her go. “And I’m taking Hiroshi’s phone. I’ll make sure everyone knows what’s been happening, so don’t even think of claiming any bastard in your belly is mine.”

“I-Isao…please…I love you!”

“And I hate you,” I told her calmly as I stepped back and looked at my downed brother and father. Walking up to them, I eyed them hatefully as they cowered.

“And I hate you two more than I can ever say,” I told them. “Never contact me again. As far as I’m concerned, you two are strangers – my enemies, even. And believe me, father, I will make sure everyone hears what you and Hiroshi did to my marriage. Expect a hefty lawsuit.”

“I-Isao…” my father weakly called out, but I ignored him.

“No need to see me out,” I sneered at him before stomping out of that damned room.

Packing up took little time as I just threw everything that was mine in sight into my suitcase, packed up the car – ignoring Hikaru’s wails as she begged me not to go – and left.

For the next few weeks, pure spite and anger powered me through my despair, grief, and the sense of betrayal I’d felt. It got me through calling a divorce attorney, setting up all the necessary procedures, and filing the most devastating lawsuit my lawyer and I could imagine against my father, Hiroshi, and Hikaru. And, true to my word, I made sure everyone heard about what those three had been up to.

Any respect the Shikazu family had had over my father’s lifetime evaporated overnight. In calls and chats, I received messages of support from aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents – even my wife’s folks were horrified to learn what their daughter had done. They had agreed, in turn, not to contest or lend any support to their daughter in the upcoming lawsuit, asking only that I remember the good times in my marriage and not go too far.

How decent people like them had ever spawned a two-timing whore like Hikaru, I didn’t know.

My father and Hiroshi, for their part, did try to counter my lawsuit with assault charges…which my attorney made sure to quickly get minimized to mere community service and time served in light of the extraordinary circumstances that had led to my savage beating of them.

My own lawsuit left them destitute. The family house, my father’s savings, Hiroshi’s meagre savings, every source of income my father still had – all of it was garnished, seized, and handed over to me after the court ruled in my favor thanks to the evidence I’d lifted from Hiroshi’s phone – showing criminal intent to cause divorce and emotional damage. Both had protested the charge – argued that because of a medical condition, I’d been sterile and therefore unable to father children. They actually tried to argue that they had been doing me a favor by giving me a child. Behind my back and without my knowledge or consent.

Only their own lawyer – by the look on his face – the judge, my attorney, and even the courtroom spectators all had the same reaction to that.

It was the stupidest thing any of them had ever heard.

Even Hikaru, now that she seemingly heard it being said out loud in such a serious environment, seemed to recognize how profoundly stupid that line of thinking was.

Suffice to say, things did not go well for them after that.

Hikaru, all things considered, got off easier than my father and brother. Though she had consented to the entire scheme and there was evidence of that, her lawyer managed to get her own penalties reduced on account of “temporary insanity,” arguing that the emotional distress caused by my father’s ultimatum against her had driven her to consent to the mad scheme. As a result, the financial penalties were still harsh, but not so much that it would ruin her forever. The request for the dissolution of the marriage – which she opposed – was nonetheless granted to me on grounds of irreconcilable differences.

Especially after I told the court that I would rather die than remain married to her.

So, all in all, I had come out on top in this entire debacle. My father and brother – or former father and former brother, after I broke all ties with them – were out on the street with no relatives willing to take them in and no money to pay for anything. Hikaru was out of my life – and to make things more horribly ironic, despite all the effort she and Hiroshi and my father had put into getting her pregnant, she still wasn’t.

The last I heard of her, she’d gone back to her parents – who despite being furious at her over her behavior, had still taken her back in.

And me?

I dunno what to tell you. If you expect any story of infidelity to have an immediate happy ending after the scorned spouse gets even, then let me tell you – that’s rare, and more often than not the storyteller is leaving a few things out.

The despair.

The self-doubt.

The desire to die.

It’s like being drowned in mud. It’s wondering if you were the reason the people who betrayed you had done it. If perhaps you really were so unreliable that your own wife or sibling or parent couldn’t trust you enough to confide concerns.

It’s sobbing at random moments at home, on the way to work, at work, on the way back…even just the act of eating can trigger a good cry – because all of that is tied to memories of the people you loved and betrayed you. It’s strangers looking at you like you’re weird for being so oddly emotional in public. It’s neighbors banging the wall demanding you take it down a notch.

It's a living nightmare from which you can’t wake up.

…until the day you do.

And then, it’s about taking it one step at a time.

Moving to a new place.

Getting new friends.

Connecting with the world again.

And just…

…moving on.

Chapter 24: Duty of Care

Chapter Text

Mori Heihachi was an old man.

Conservative, for the most part, but tempered by the realization that his generation’s time had long passed and that he could not keep up with today’s youth and changes. A realist, one might say. The type of man who might disapprove of the society they live in, while accepting that it was not his world to live in anymore, as his own time was drawing to an ever-nearing end.

For that reason, despite his disapproval over his son’s choice of partner, he’d held his tongue. He’d never found Kaede to be good enough for his Hiromu, but at the same time had acknowledged that his son was head over heels for her and, as far as he knew, she reciprocated those feelings. So he’d given them his tacit blessing.

His own wife’s nagging might’ve helped in that regard, in retrospect.

Regardless, he’d supported his son’s decision to move to the big city with his new wife. He’d been overjoyed at hearing he’d become a grandfather and travelled to hold little Kanoko in his arms. He’d even had to be convinced to go back home by Nana as he wanted to stick around and care for his granddaughter a bit more.

And then Hiroki was born and, again, he was over the moon at the birth of another grandchild. Again, Nana practically had to drag him away from Tokyo and back to Aomori. He was happy, though, as his son and family came to visit on the regular, lighting up his life.

And then Nana died before him.

It was nothing special. Just old age. The old bat had always said she’d die long after him and would tease him about all the ways she’d use the inheritance to live her best life.

The liar.

Gods, he missed Nana.

His son was compassionate about it. So was his wife and children. They visited him, offered to have him move to Tokyo to be closer to family, but he refused. He was a stubborn old fool and this house in Aomori had been in the family for generations. He had a duty to stay here.

Plus, it’d been where he’d met, fallen in love with, and married Nana. The very house was full of memories of their time together. Of their love.

Not that he’d ever said as much or admitted it to his son.

Men had to be strong and stoic, after all.

And then Hiromu died, too.

A stupid traffic incident where the other person had gotten distracted on their blasted phone.

Heihachi hated the stupid things. He always had, but now he found he hated them so much more. They had robbed him of his only son.

A dark mood fell upon him since then. The visits to Aomori by his son’s family dwindled to nothing after Hiromu’s death. The last time he’d seen them, in fact, had been at Hiromu’s funeral. Unlike his daughter-in-law and their children, he hadn’t cried. He hadn’t cried when Nana had died, either.

He’d been brought up not to. Crying was weakness. And men had to be strong.

So, he never cried. Not once.

Not until his grandson appeared on his front porch, a hastily packed bag at his side, looking like the world had ended.

“Hiroki?” he’d asked.

“It’s…mom…and Kanoko…”

His grandson’s explanation broke his heart. The things the boy was saying seemed too farfetched to be true. Even at his worst estimation of Kaede’s character, he’d never considered her capable of betraying Hiromu’s memory this way! For a moment, for a long moment, he considered the possibility that Hiroki had just had a fight with Kaede and was lying to justify running away from home.

But the look in his eyes told him that wasn’t the case.

Hiroki’s eyes – once so blazing and lively and full of life…had dwindled to empty, lifeless, and worn. He had the eyes of a man who’d witnessed the truly horrible. Heihachi had seen something similar in some of the older vets from the war – though the memory of those still chilled him to the bone. Hiroki was, hopefully, not that far gone yet.

So he’d sheltered his grandson and settled him in Hiromu’s old room. He wasn’t sure if that was the wisest thing to do, but it seemed like being in his dad’s childhood room helped stabilize the boy, so Heihachi marked up it as a win. For now.

But it was as he was bringing him hurriedly-made tea afterwards that he broke his own code on crying.

When he heard his grandson weeping and begging his dead father for forgiveness for being so weak.

At that moment, the dam Heihachi had built all his life under the premise that men had to be strong and could not cry or be vulnerable broke. Silently, he stood outside his dead son’s room, holding a tray of hastily-made tea, weeping silently at his own failure as a grandparent and at his grandson’s misery.

Perhaps if he hadn’t been so stubborn, so bogged down by his grief over Nana’s death, then Hiromu’s, he might’ve actually been present enough in his family’s life to prevent this all from happening. Maybe he ought to have just moved to Tokyo when Hiromu had first insisted. Or maybe he could’ve insisted they move to Aomori after Hiromu’s death.

A myriad of different choices ran through his head, none of which offered him comfort. Only for him to realize that he wasn’t the one that needed comfort right now. It was his grandson.

So he did so.

He hugged his grandson, he commiserated with him. He heard Hiroki out. Had him detail everything that had happened. Every assault, every insult, every betrayal. The more Heihachi heard, the more he felt the need to know. Where had these incidents taken place? By whom? Who was involved? Who had gone where?

A timeline formed in his mind as decades of prior experience manifested itself once more. In his youth, he had been feared as a prosecutor. It was more the pity that his son had not chosen to follow in his footsteps, but he had acquiesced to his son’s request to live his own life.

But this was not about Hiroki having to live his own life and deal with the consequences of his loved one’s betrayals by himself. Hiroki was a child. A minor. And those who ought to have been responsible for his wellbeing had failed him and betrayed him.

Mori Heihachi was an old man.

But he was a grandfather first and foremost.

He picked up his landline and made a call.

“Father! It’s been a while!”

Heihachi was thankful for his lifetime of stoicism in that moment, as he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to keep himself from trying to strangle Kaede the moment she’d said those words.

“I’m here about Hiroki,” he told her flatly.

The look of confusion, then relief on her face irritated him, but he kept his peace.

“So you know where he is?” she asked as she stood aside to let him in. “I’ve been calling his friends and called the police, but—”

“He came to Aomori,” he cut her off as he walked in, noticing immediately the overpowering stench of hastily-applied air fresheners. He also noted that photos of Hiromu and Hiroki were conspicuously absent. “He’s been staying with me.”

She sighed in relief as she followed him into the living room. He didn’t bother to wait for her permission or offer to sit down at the table.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “I was beside myself with worry!”

“Were you?” he asked pointedly.

She reeled in surprise at his question, having been caught entirely off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean? He’s my son! Of course I was worried!”

Heihachi harrumphed as he laced his hands on the table. “But not so worried you wouldn’t bring in a stranger into this house my son paid for and help make a fool of both him and Hiroki.”

In all honesty, Heihachi had wondered, in the back of his mind, whether Hiroki had perhaps exaggerated as to what was going on here. But the moment Kaede froze and stared at him with wide-eyed horror, he knew. He’d seen that look on far too many criminals’ faces over the years not to recognize it on sight.

Guilt.

“F-Father, I…”

SLAM.

It hurt like the dickens, but Heihachi did not regret slamming his fists onto the tabletop. “I AM NOT YOUR FATHER, YOU MINDLESS WHORE!” he roared.

It was the first time he’d ever lost his cool since becoming a working adult. Perhaps it was a good thing that a lifetime of coping with stress and a rural retirement had left him with a body blessed with vitality, or else he imagined his blood pressure would’ve triggered a heart attack.

Regardless, Kaede sat still, frozen in shock and fear at her father-in-law’s sudden and unprecedented outburst.

He pointed a trembling finger at her. “I warned Hiromu,” he hissed. “I warned him that you were no good for him. That you would stray. Filth like you always does!”

“F-Father, you’re out of line!”

“I am not your father!” he snapped back, raining spittle onto the table. “And I thank the Gods for that because if I truly had a daughter like you, I’d strangle her to death myself!”

She blanched at his words and cringed, the verbal onslaught clearly throwing her off.

“Hiroki told me everything,” he continued, calming himself down again as he sat ramrod straight – or as straight as he could – in his chair. “About you, Kanoko, those two little sluts, and that criminal of a foreigner you’ve all whored yourselves out to.”

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a sealed envelope. “Fortunately, I’ve still got a few well-placed friends and mentees around, which made this far easier than it would’ve been otherwise,” he said as he tossed the envelope over to Kaede. “Read it.”

Hesitantly, she reached down a took the envelope, allowing him to relish the moment in which she recognized the send-by.

“W-What is this?”

“A lawsuit,” he told her. “For custody of my grandson. And only my grandson.”

She jumped to her feet. “Y-You can’t! Hiroki is my son!” she protested.

“And you’ve done a piss-poor job of protecting him,” he sneered. “So I’ll be taking him in. As his only real family.”

“Hiroki is exaggerating!” she insisted. “It’s not as bad as he makes it out to be!”

“Do you think me a fool, Kaede?” he snapped. “I took him to a doctor! They showed me the X-Rays! Healed fractures! Contusions that had yet to heal! Every possible hallmark of abuse! Not as bad?! If I was still a prosecutor, I’d have you strapped to the chair, Kaede!” he roared as he got up from his seat and leaned over the table to glower at her, his fury reaching its zenith. “You and all of those other brainless sluts!”

He breathed hard then as he tried to get his anger back under control and sat back down, roughly digging out another envelope and flinging it to her as she sat there, shell-shocked.

“But that’s not my job anymore,” he grouched. “It’s theirs.”

Confused, Kaede broke out of her shock to grab the next envelope and, seeing no send-by, opened it.

To find her life was functionally over.

“I had a chat with some of my old pals on the force,” he told her, relishing her growing horror as she read on. “They reached out to Tokyo PD. And they carried out an investigation into the claims made by Hiroki regarding your little foreigner friend. Turns out he’s been a predictably very bad piece of trash.”

And boy, had he. The foreigner had apparently been involved in a ring of prostitution services catered to foreign, Black men. Except, because Japanese law formally criminalized prostitution, it was therefore illegal. Technically, he knew there were ways around that – hence why soaplands were a thing. But these idiots had not realized how to work that loophole, meaning their prostitution services were marketed as prostitution – even if secretly.

Making the entire organization highly criminal.

And with the inclusion of foreigners, that qualified as sex tourism – which was also very illegal.

Needless to say, his buddies had sent him a bottle of very expensive sake in thanks for giving them such an amazing lead that could make many a Tokyo PD mentee’s career. The investigation was far from over, of course, and more legwork had to be done, but just the preliminaries of what they’d found would be enough to net over a dozen arrests and some very high-profile press conferences.

And the woman in front of him was about to find out what it felt like to be at the center of such a storm.

“As a final kindness to my son’s widow, I’m letting you know that you, Kanoko, and the other two girls are going to be charged as accessories to some of the foreigner’s crimes – specifically, those against Hiroki,” he told Kaede, who sat there, ashen-faced, as the documents hung off her fingers limply. “Aside from that, you’re looking at a charge of creating and participating in child pornography with intent to distribute, child endangerment, domestic abuse of a minor, abetting physical assault against a minor, aiding and abetting in the corruption of a minor, aiding and abetting in the domestic abuse of a minor, and engaging in a criminal conspiracy, among other charges.”

He felt his disgust well up as he watched her sit there, silent as the grave, a look of utter disbelief on her face as she still tried to process everything he’d said. He could not believe he had the misfortune of having such a woman be his daughter-in-law. Hopefully, soon, that would no longer be the case.

“Neither you, nor Kanoko, are to ever call on Hiroki ever again,” he added. “Once everything is settled, I will raise him for whatever time I have left to be Hiromu’s son. If there is any bit of maternal affection for him left in you, you’ll leave him be and allow him to live a good life again.”

He scoffed to himself as he got up. “But then, I know trash like you can never accept responsibility for your actions. So I suppose I’ll see you all in court,” he spat. “No need to see me out.”

Not that she was in any state to do so. His revelations had seemingly broken her spirit completely. Unsurprising, considering he was determined to burn her life to the ground for what she’d done to Hiroki and to Hiromu’s memory.

“Mom! I’m ho—Grandpa?"

Ah, yes. The other object of his rage.

Heihachi glowered down at his eldest grandchild. It was not a look he’d ever shot her, causing her to flinch.

“Kanoko,” he greeted coldly.

“Grandpa? Why’re you here?” she asked, confused and a little fearful. She’d never seen him like this before, after all. “Is it Hiroki? Did you find him?”

“He’s been living with me,” he informed her flatly. “As I’ve just informed your whore of a mother.”

The sudden insult to Kaede caught his granddaughter by surprise as she reeled back, as though slapped herself.

“Grandpa! You can’t—”

“What?” he asked menacingly, stepping forward to loom over her. “I can’t what, Kanoko? I can’t insult that slut of a woman who spat on my dead son’s memory? Who spat on her duties as a mother?!”

He jabbed a finger up into her face. “And make no mistake, Kanoko – I know what you did, too. And those two brainless sluts you’ve been associating with. I’m coming for all of you!”

Ignoring her look of confusion and the tears in her eyes, he swept out of the house like the raging storm he felt like. Letting loose like that on Kaede and Kanoko had felt good, but it was hardly enough.

Now, it was time to truly set the fire on their lives.

It took a few months, but the end result was exactly as he’d told Kaede.

Timing the lawsuit with the police investigation into Kaede and Kanoko’s foreign lover had incredible force multiplication effects. The backlash from the illegal prostitution ring frequented by Black foreigners had reached its zenith when the lawsuit finally came to court, unravelling all of Kaede, Kanoko, and the two other girls’ sins for the entire country to see.

Heihachi was merciless.

The parents of the two other girls, and Kaede herself, visited him all the way in Aomori to beg for his mercy. Begged him to settle and avoid implicating them in the criminal investigation. He refused – hell, he didn’t even allow Kaede onto the family property. Hiroki had been wisely sent out to do some errands while this all went down, Heihachi having received a head’s up from his buddies in the police that the parents were coming.

In each case, he patently refused to settle. He vowed to ensure that the girls would all pay the maximum possible penalty for what they’d done to Hiroki. For Kanoko, Ayumu, and Nao – as the other two girls were apparently called, not that he gave a damn – the penalty was likely to be less severe due to being minors, though Kanoko was potentially facing adult charges if the prosecution managed to sway the judge on that.

Kaede, however, was well and truly fucked. As a legal adult in the lawsuit and associated criminal case, she faced the potential maximum penalty and fines for her combined crimes. Best case scenario if convicted was at least two decades in prison. More realistically, she would die in prison. The same fate potentially awaited Kanoko if the judge ruled it valid to try her as an adult.

He felt nothing as the two pair of parents left, wailing in despair at the ruination of their daughters’ fates. Nor did he give a damn when Kaede cried out for Hiroki as police arrived to drag her away after he called them on her for being a public nuisance.

When Hiroki did eventually turn up later in the afternoon, he curiously glanced around and asked, “Was someone here earlier?”

To which Heihachi replied, “No one of any importance.”

He did not want his grandson to worry about the case. Hell, if he could’ve avoided it, he would’ve ensured Hiroki never even had to testify about what had happened to him, not wishing to put him through more pain.

Instead, Heihachi made good on his words to Kaede: he tried, as best as he could given his advanced age, to raise Hiroki where she had failed.

“Why do you like martial arts, Hiroki?” he asked him once while watching his grandson practice katas in the yard. It was about four months into his stay with him in Aomori.

“So I can get strong!”

“A tiger is strong,” Heihachi observed. “Yet humans hunt the tiger more often than the tiger hunts humans. Why do you think that is?”

Hiroki stared at him oddly. “I don’t get it.”

Heihachi nodded. “And this is why your mother failed you,” he said, privately noting that his grandson’s flinch at his mother’s mention was far less pronounced than it used to be. “The answer is simple.” He pointed at his head. “It is because humans have this.”

“Our…minds?”

Heihachi nodded. “Correct. We are rational creatures, Hiroki, as much as we are emotional. We have risen above mere beasts because we are able to overrule our passions with reason. Because we are able to overcome obstacles by being clever, not by being brutish.”

He patted the floor next to him. “Come, sit.”

Hiroki obeyed and quietly sat down.

“Do you think the foreigner who beat you was strong?” Heihachi asked.

Hiroki grit his teeth before quietly nodding.

“Do you think I am stronger than he is?”

A head shake.

“Yet, of us two, who is the one whose life has been ruined, and whose hasn’t?”

Silence.

“His.”

Heihachi nodded. “Correct.”

“So, then, are you saying strength doesn’t matter?”

“It has its uses,” Heihachi corrected his grandson. “But there is nothing strength can achieve that being smart can’t do just as well, with much less exertion.”

He looked out of the traditional living room into the backyard, his eyes stopping upon the apple tree there. It had been Nana’s favorite, as they’d planted it together on the day they married.

“That foreigner used strength to abuse you,” he continued. “To impose himself upon you. Yet he is the one facing prison now because, just as he tried to ruin you through strength, I ruined him through intellectual strength.”

He looked over at his grandson and smiled tersely. “This is what is meant by cultivating both body and mind, Hiroki. You cannot just rely on physical power to get by life. You must also cultivate your mind so that, wherever strength fails you, your mind can pick up the slack.”

Hiroki nodded slowly, but that didn’t worry Heihachi. His grandson would learn in due time. He just hoped to be around to see it.

“But although I am willing to teach you as you continue your conventional education, you need to remember the one, fundamental rule of our household,” he added sternly. Hiroki flinched at the tone, but Heihachi remained impassive despite how it broke his heart.

“W-What’s that, grandpa?”

“Those who are strong have a duty to care for those who are not,” he replied solemnly. “Power cultivated via one’s body or mind is pointless if left unused and sheathed. Those who choose to become strong have a duty to make use of that power wherever possible and feasible to protect those who cannot defend themselves from the predations of the immoral and cruel.”

He sighed. “That is the reason I became a prosecutor when I was younger, Hiroki. I prided myself on being the shield of the weak against the strong – and even then, I did not always succeed. Your father…wanted his own path, so I let him choose his own way.”

He paused as he regarded his grandson – Hiromu’s son – before him. He was young, still. His mind addled by not only hormones, but also the pain of betrayal. A crueler grandfather would’ve used that to manipulate him into following his every order and path.

But Heihachi didn’t want that to be his legacy on this earth.

“If you want, Hiroki, I can help you get the grades you need to enter law school and follow in my footsteps when the time comes. I don’t like boasting, but I have many friends still kickin’ in that world. Or I can help you become a police officer if you prefer.”

He paused for a second. “Or, like Hiromu, like your father, you can choose your own path. Whatever you choose, Hiroki, I will support you. That is my responsibility as your grandfather – as the strong one between us protecting the one who can’t yet defend himself. That is my duty of care.”

Hiroki was too young to be deciding career paths already. Most people didn’t really know what they wanted out of life until their mid-20’s or even 30’s and 40’s. But Hiroki wasn’t most people. His life had been marked in a way that most people would never understand. So Heihachi couldn’t treat him like some random child.

Still, predictably, Hiroki could not answer him immediately. Heihachi would’ve frankly been worried and disbelieving if he had.

Yet, over the next few months, as Hiroki returned to school and dealt with the fallout of his life functionally imploding, he and Heihachi had similar talks over and over again – sometimes prompted by Hiroki, sometimes by Heihachi. He took care not to repeat his mistakes with Hiromu again – he would not pressure Hiroki to make a decision, nor try to insist upon any particular path. Hiromu had rebelled against his earnest desire for his son to become a prosecutor, perhaps cutting him off from a career path he would’ve excelled in had he not.

He didn’t want that to happen to Hiroki, so he kept himself from being too eager.

Sometimes, he invited his friends from the DPP over to talk to Hiroki at his grandson’s request, or those from the police force. Sometimes, he just accompanied his grandson to job fairs so he could ask the people at the booths pointed questions about employment.

Regardless, Hiroki was, in his own way, moving forward with his life – even as Heihachi kept a wary eye on the collapse of his betrayers’.

Kanoko, much to her own fortune, was not tried as an adult – much to Heihachi’s chagrin. As a result, she’d be in prison for four years until she turned 20. Still, the social stain of such incarceration, plus her inability to graduate from school normally, would haunt her forever.

Kaede, as he’d predicted on the other hand, was handed down conviction after conviction, ending up with a sentence of 64 years in prison, eligible for parole only after 15 years. She’d also be registered as a sex offender. Getting her custodial rights over Hiroki removed after that proved to be laughably easy.

The bully, for his part, was tried as an adult – the aggravated and premeditated nature of his crimes foregoing any possible argument that he had been a misled, naïve, and immature child. Like Kaede, his prison sentence was exemplary – over 50 years in prison, no eligibility for parole, and a massive fine. The other foreigners who’d been caught and implicated in the underage prostitution ring had similarly been handed down severe prison sentences and fines.

That last part had made Heihachi’s day, and he knew exactly why the court had gone that route – to set an example and issue a warning to the United States about the behavior of its citizens in Japan. Given the severity of the ring’s actions and extent, the US Ambassador’s protests were weak and ultimately just lip service, as the public outcry back home had very clearly demonstrated the people’s fury at the actions of the men caught in the sting. Actually defending them would thus be tantamount to political suicide.

As for the other two little sluts, Heihachi didn’t care enough to keep track of them. Hiroki’s ex, he thought he heard, had been given a sentence similar to Kanoko’s. And that other girl…eh, who cares. As far as Hiroki’s talk of school went, he never saw her again, so it was all for the best.

With those parasites out of his grandson’s life, Hiroki could now walk the path he wanted, unburdened by lesser people.

Which was why, well into his junior year, his grandson gave him the best gift he could.

“Grandpa, I want to be a prosecutor.”

Heihachi smiled the most genuine smile he’d ever given since Hiromu had died. He waved his grandson to take a seat before grinning.

“Then, let me tell you again about the most important duty we have to enforce. Do you remember what it’s called?”

Hiroki nodded.

“Duty of care.”

Chapter 25: Yakuza Don't Play

Chapter Text

“Ditch the girl.”

“Wha—”

SLAM.

Kasumi watched, horrified, as one of the thugs standing before her backhanded Aizawa ruthlessly, his head snapping to the side from the impact as he collapsed to the ground.

She whimpered, prompting the thug holding her firmly in her seat on the couch to tighten his grip.

“Not, whaaaa,” the man behind the thugs, arms crossed, mocked flatly as he stared at Aizawa on the ground. “I gave you an order a week ago, you little turd. Ditch. The. Girl. What part of that wasn’t clear?”

She watched the man nod at the thug that had backhanded Aizawa, prompting him to kick her lover in the side as he lay on the ground.

“Do you know how much of a pain in the ass you are to us?” the man asked calmly as he lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. “A constant one. You run around with that stupid little group of braindead assholes you call friends, riling up the locals, and you practically announce to the world that your folks are Yakuza…”

He nodded again at the thug, who kicked Aizawa’s crumpled form in the side even more viciously, prompting a gasped wheeze of pain from her lover.

“And you do all that for…what? Second-rate, rural pussy?” the man sneered. “Assaulting civvie girls without an ounce of shame, raising your profile among all the locals…”

Another kick. Aizawa was, much to her horrified surprise, weeping on the ground now.

“Bringing all of this unwanted heat on us.”

He gestured and the thug grabbed Aizawa by the hair and roughly pulled him up to face his tormentor.

“You should count your lucky stars I’m not your mom – she wanted to gut you, you stupid little waste of space,” the man growled. “Not an ounce of wits in that braindead head of yours. How you’re my son, I’ll never understand.”

“D-Dad…”

SLAP.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking embarrassment,” the man replied flatly, having brutally slapped Aizawa across the face. He watched coldly as Aizawa wept in the thug’s grip before taking another drag of his cigarette, sighing, and pressing a thumb against his forehead, as though hoping to stave off a migraine.

“Because of you, we’ve had to pull back our operations in the area. They already pinched a number of our guys because you, you stupid fuck, were waving my name and your mother’s around to use them as errand boys for your stupid little schemes.”

He waved his cigarette at Kasumi, making her flinch.

“And now the cops are investigating you – and by consequence us – because you can’t keep your fucking hands off civvie girls. What the fuck is wrong with you, you little shitstain?!”

Kasumi could only watch in horrified intrigue as the man berated Aizawa like he was nothing. For years, Aizawa had garnered a reputation as the big, tough gangster bully of the community. Between his biker gang and the rumors that his parents were yakuza, no one in their age group had ever dreamed of going against him.

She certainly hadn’t.

And yet, right now, that big, bad gangster bully was being treated like a ragdoll by his own father, it seemed, who was more than ready to cut him loose.

“Fuck, I’m glad you’re not my oldest, or I’d have killed myself out of shame,” the man sneered at Aizawa. “Or better yet, just killed you and tried with your mom for a better child.”

Aizawa amazingly sobbed at that.

“What should we do with him?” one of the thugs asked.

The man took a long, pensive drag of his cigarette as he eyed Aizawa. Then, without warning, took the lit end of his cigarette and rammed it into Aizawa’s left cheek, putting out the embers in his own son’s face.

Kasumi shook at her lover’s screams, terrified at how quickly this was escalating into horrifying violence.

“If it were up to me and your mom, you’d be dead, you incompetent sack of shit,” the man sneered at Aizawa. “But the oyabun isn’t fond of kin killing kin, so you’re getting off easy.”

He looked over at one of the thugs who hadn’t yet moved and nodded. The man nodded man, drew out a hammer, and, with one swift up-swing, slammed it into Aizawa’s genitals.

His screams drowned out the entire room as the thugs impassively watched him writhe and shake from the pain as a bloody mess formed underneath him. Kasumi could hardly believe her own eyes at the brutality this man had just inflicted on his own son.

“Since it seems your dick was doing all the thinking, we’re removing the problem at the root,” the man calmly explained, as though his son wasn’t on the ground now, holding his destroyed, bleeding crotch. “It’s not like any descendants you were going to make would be any good, anyway.”

He held out a hand and one of the thugs gave him another cigarette, which was promptly lit.

“You won’t die – we’ll get you medical attention. But as of now, your brain better be doing all the thinking, you little turd, or else next time, we’re not going to be so forgiving.”

He took a drag of his cigarette.

“We’re also tracking down all your women and telling them to fuck off, or else. If by some miracle you knocked them up with that weak-ass sperm of yours, we’re getting ‘em aborted – I don’t want your incompetent genes walking around. We’ll leave the question of descendants to your brother and sister.”

As he seemed to be wrapping up, one of the thugs cleared his throat. “Uh, boss – the gang?”

The man nodded. “Right, them. They’re gone,” he told his son casually, as though discussing the weather. “All of ‘em.”

“G-Gone…?” Aizawa wheezed. “W-What did you…?”

“What I should’ve done years ago, when you first put them together,” the man replied coldly. “And if you know what’s good for ya, you’ll let them stay gone.”

Kasumi was, by all accounts, a civilian girl – definitely not part of the yakuza – but even she understood the implication.

Aizawa’s entire gang had been wiped out by these men.

He was powerless.

The thought should’ve made her happy. Exhilarated!

But it didn’t.

Because she’d abandoned her boyfriend for him. Abandoned her reputation for him. Been robbed of her virginity by him.

Her entire social life revolved around pleasing him.

And that was now rendered moot.

In less than an hour, Aizawa had gone from small town bigshot to small town nobody.

“Once you’re recovered, you’ll stay at the house, lay low, and stay low. Understood?”

“H-How…”

“For as long as I fucking feel like it. Got it, shit for brains?”

She watched, fascinated, as Aizawa, still whimpering from his destroyed crotch, meekly nodded.

And then the man turned his attention to her, his cold, calculating eyes boring into her.

“This the new cunt my worthless son was bangin’?”

Kasumi flushed, but by the grip on her shoulders, she wasn’t meant to answer. Her captor did it for her.

“Yeah, boss.”

The man swept his gaze over her naked body – they had been interrupted mid-sex – and sneered.

“Two-yen trash.”

She flinched.

“Count yourself lucky,” the man continued. “Since you’re a civvie girl, the rules say we can’t touch you unless you screw with us. But your relationship with this piece of trash,” he kicked his son for emphasis. “Ends today. Not that he’s good for what you were clearly looking for anymore, anyway.”

She shivered unpleasantly from the chuckles the thugs gave at that. She then felt him grab her by the face and was forced to look up at his cold eyes.

“If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll lay low, live low, and stay low – and never fucking cross our radar,” he warned. “Or else next time, I’m going to have my boys show you and anyone remotely friendly with you what we do to threats – and spoiler alert, little whore: it’s not fucking, it’s not pleasant, and it’s permanent.”

Kasumi couldn’t handle it anymore.

She peed herself right then and there as she felt the absolute certainty that the man before her was serious. If he ever got an inkling of her existence ever again, he’d kill her and anyone she cared about.

As the thugs jeered and laughed at her incontinence, the man kept his cold gaze on her. With a gesture, the thug holding her down tightened his grip on her shoulder, causing her to whimper in pain.

“Answer me, you stupid cunt.”

Shakily, she nodded.

The man looked at her for a while before nodding and pulling back, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Good. Now, get the fuck out before I decide to break the rules and have my men throw you off the balcony.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

Kasumi immediately ran for her discarded clothes, gathered them up, and bolted out the door – ignoring the whimpering Aizawa on the ground as she made a mad dash home.

She was scared.

She was so, so fucking scared.

How could she have not seen this coming?!

Aizawa had bragged and bragged about his brashness without care – openly telling her he was raping her, acting like a bigshot. But where had his parents been? He lived alone in an apartment, and his only friends were that biker gang he’d gathered. But they didn’t have the means to pull in the cash he’d need to live alone as a high school student in an apartment of his own.

Everyone had only thought he had yakuza parents because of his behavior.

But she now knew the truth of the matter – they were yakuza…and Aizawa was the failure of their family.

A failure that had been going too wild for comfort.

A more reckless, ambitious person would’ve thought this perfect leverage to manipulate the yakuza, or Aizawa, at least, to gain money or power.

Kasumi was neither.

She was a coward.

She had always been a coward.

And now, she was alone.

She’d broken things off with Shinji after realizing she only wanted Aizawa. She’d grown isolated from her friends because of this and her decision to prioritize time with Aizawa over them. Her own parents had grown estranged from her as a result.

And now the yakuza knew her face, her name, and very likely where she lived and who her family was.

The rain began to fall as she stopped running, coming to a stop under a bus station, still naked and holding increasingly wet clothes.

Where could she go?

Who would understand?

She didn’t know.

Chapter 26: The Consequences of Obedience

Chapter Text

The Empire’s invasion came out of nowhere.

Michael could scarcely believe it. Hell, he’d barely had time to react after news had come from his aging father – himself no spring chicken – of the fact that the entire northwest of the kingdom had already fallen to the Imperial forces. By all accounts, it would be merely weeks before the capital fell. A month after that, and it’d be his own city suffering the same fate.

Prince Michael III would soon become King Michael III of a dying kingdom if the fortunes of war didn’t reverse soon.

And, to be honest, he didn’t think they could.

CRASH

He ignored the whimpering of his new wife, Sophia, as she cringed and flinched at the sound of the broken mirror he’d thrown his goblet into in fury.

The rebellion seven months ago had weakened his forces. While his concubine Leo’s leadership had allowed him to minimize his loyalists’ casualties, the fact of the matter was that Thomas and Lucas’ rebellion had still reduced his professional fighting force dangerously. Hell, he hadn’t even realized Thomas had been involved in the rebellion until a month after the fact – and by then, the treacherous snake had fled to parts unknown with his family!

Maybe that had been why the Empire had seen its chance – otherwise, he couldn’t imagine that cowardly Emperor daring to face him in the field.

But the fact was, he had, and now everything banked on his ability to beat back the Empire with half the manpower he normally would’ve expected, and half again the number of professional officers – so many had chosen to side with that bastard Thomas!

Ingrates, all of them!

“M-Michael…”

He glowered over at his young wife. “Shut up!” he snapped.

It was her fault. Hers and that bitch Leo and their bastard husband and father – Lucas.

If only they’d never served him, never come into his employ, he never would’ve been so tempted to take the redheaded bitch and in so doing sow the seeds of the rebellion.

Hell, she hadn’t even been able to give birth to a son! Only another daughter. Another blasted female. And Leo had been no better – a daughter as well.

They’d been pleased, and he’d pretended as much as well, but he’d been silently furious. It was as though Lucas had cursed him to be denied what he truly wanted – a son and heir! Or was it that Lucas had known all along that his wife and daughter would never give him the son he wanted? Was that why that pathetic, sniveling coward had just left after failing in his pathetic act of rebellion?

He sighed angrily, rubbing at his head as he desperately tried to think of a strategy to get out of the current predicament. He’d need to figure something out quickly – he couldn’t just rush to his father’s defense at the capital as his troops weren’t numerically sufficient to break the siege. Nor could he hope to win in any field battle once the capital fell.

Fortunately, he had a lifetime of combat to draw upon and quickly realized that the only solution was to hold back the Empire long enough for the capital’s army to slip away through the rear, to reorganize under his leadership further south, where their position would be more defensible.

With that conclusion in mind, he sent for Leo despite Sophia’s protests – he didn’t care that his concubine had just given birth. This was war and the woman insisted on being a warrior – so she’d have to pay her dues now. She’d take command of the forces left behind to defend the city while he himself went out to command the relief army.

Protests were made, of course, by both of his women – who didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, only making him reconsider his relationship with them even further if they were being this naïve – but in the end, he was the Prince, and they were just his playthings.

He’d deal with them when he got back, however. For now, he had Imperial bastards to put in their place!

Two weeks later…

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

Michael had pushed his troops to their limit marching from his southern fortress-city to the capital, but he’d been wise enough to let them rest enough right before battle to make sure their stamina was up to the task of fending off the Empire’s troops long enough.

Michael’s troops might’ve been weakened by Thomas’ rebellion, but they were no pushovers. In the Kingdom, they were considered among the finest elites, having been trained and blooded at the side of their venerable warrior-prince.

Yet, the Empire’s troops swatted them aside with pathetic ease.

There was no explaining it. Every strategy he employed, every order, the Empire seemed to know exactly what he would do and quickly adapted. It had caught him so completely off-guard that it had taken him longer than he cared to admit to realize what had happened.

Someone had betrayed him to the Empire and fed them intelligence on his tactics and codes. And the only person he knew who had that kind of access and would’ve had cause to do so was Thomas.

That…bastard.

“THOMAS!” he roared in the din of battle, his warhorse slain and his sword chipped and damaged. His plate armor was really the only thing keeping him alive at this point, as even his chainmail underneath was beginning to show signs of damage blood ran freely down one of his arms – courtesy of a well-placed arrow.

“It’s the prince!”

His unwise decision to roar out his frustration had played against him as Imperial troops seemed to zero in on his sudden outburst. His guards circled around him to protect him, but Michael realized belatedly there was no way they’d survive a concerted onslaught.

He glanced over his shoulder – was escape possible? – and quickly dismissed that possibility. Both of his troops’ flanks had fallen, and from the look of the smoke stacks emerging from beyond the capital’s walls, the city had been breached.

This battle was lost, and his own escape route had been functionally cut off. He could even see some of his own troops fleeing the battlefield.

He scowled and sneered at his situation. This was utter madness – utterly mad! There was no reason for his fate to end up like this! He had earned his power! He had earned his privilege! To have it all lost on the whim of another was utterly infuriating!

“Is that him?”

“It is, general.”

Michael glowered up at the approaching cavalrymen, who seemed entirely unbothered and unrushed. Flagbearers rode at either flank, bearing the coat of arms of both the Empire and another he was familiar with – the House of Eisengarde, the Imperial Marshal’s family. Double-headed eagle and towering castle stared down at him as the two central riders approached the edge of the thick line of Imperial troops ringing around his own circle of exhausted and defeated bodyguards.

“Prince Michael of the Royal House of Salern,” the man clad in ornate, impeccable plate armor addressed him. “I am Imperial Marshal von Eisengarde, Duke of Eisengarde. Your forces are defeated and the capital taken. Surrender and you may yet receive mercy.”

Michael scowled up at the Imperial Marshal. “You may have won here, Duke, but my city-fortress will withstand your forces for an age, if need be! I will bleed your Empire dry of troops before we fall!”

The Imperial Marshal’s hidden gaze betrayed nothing before he turned to the knight next to him. “Is this true?”

“The city-fortress he speaks of truly is impregnable by most conventional means, Your Grace,” the knight replied with a very familiar voice. “It would be difficult to take as we have the capital.”

It clicked in Michael’s head and his eyes bulged in fury. “THOMAS!”

The knight paid him no heed as he continued to speak with the Imperial Marshal. “Fortunately, we will not have to worry about such things.”

The Marshal nodded as confusion and fear gripped Michael. What did the traitor mean? His city was the kingdom’s crown jewel in terms of defense and impregnability! No conventional army would ever be able to take it without investing years of siege into breaching its walls!

“Your inside man, I presume?”

Michael felt like someone had dunked him in ice water. An inside man? In his city?

“Correct, Your Grace,” the knight confirmed before turning his helmeted head to face Michael. He might not have been able to see his gaze, but the prince could feel the hatred in the man’s gaze. “With the prince here with his finest troops, only the token forces needed to man the city’s walls against attack remain. With my insiders in place, His Imperial Highness will be able to effectively walk into the city before the defenders know what hit them.”

“LIAR!” Michael roared – more out of denial than surety.

“You should’ve known better than to lay a hand on other people’s families, Prince Michael,” Thomas taunted him as the Duke nodded and turned to leave. “You’ll never guess who’s in charge of opening the city’s gates. Safe to say, it won’t be a happy reunion.”

“THOMAS!”

“Kill them all except the prince,” the Duke ordered as he roared helplessly. “By order of the Imperial Crown Prince.”

“THOMAS!”

Blood erupted all around him as the Imperial soldiers got to work, the former prince’s cries ignored.

Don’t you want revenge?

Lucas had never been a vengeful man. It simply wasn’t how he’d been brought up. His parents had taught him to be honest, just, and righteous in thought and action. He’d been taught that to serve honestly was its own reward, and the fact that his father spoke highly of his own service to the King had made Lucas look forward to working under Prince Michael, who was said to be the second coming of the King.

Until that fateful day when he’d been introduced to the Prince’s “welcoming ceremony.” Until he’d been cuckolded, humiliated, beaten, and cast aside. He’d tried revenge, then. He’d tried to avenge his loss.

He’d lost.

And so pathetic was he deemed that they never sought to kill him – likely imagining him too pathetic and weak to seek revenge.

And they were right.

Until about six months after his humiliation, when Thomas found him in a nearby town and offered him a second chance.

A chance to really make things right.

Thomas had revealed his true colors – that he’d orchestrated the rebellion against Michael, having felt the same rage and fury as Lucas when his own wife had been humiliated and toyed with by the Prince. He acknowledged he’d been luckier in that respect compared to Lucas, but had never been able to let go of his anger.

And because of that, he’d betrayed the kingdom to the Empire. The entire rebellion had been orchestrated at the Empire’s request, weakening the Kingdom’s elites at no cost to themselves. Since most of the traitors and loyalists who’d died had for year enabled the Prince, Thomas had felt no remorse in sending them to their deaths – save for Lucas, whom he’d known had suffered more than anyone else.

Hence why he’d saved him. Why he’d helped him get back on his feet so that he could leave the city.

And why he was now offering true revenge.

All he had to do in return was guide Imperial troops to the gates from within the city and ensure they were left open long enough for the Imperial army to rush in. Then, his task would be to guide them to the Prince’s fortress and use the usual codes to get them to lower the drawbridge.

Since all of the elites had left with the Prince, only the militia and a couple of experienced commanders were left.

All commanded by the least blooded of the Prince’s commanders – Leo.

His daughter.

No, not his daughter. No longer. That woman and his bitch of an ex had been all too happy to cling onto Michael the moment he offered them more than he could. Loyalty, blood ties, they had meant nothing to the two.

So they would mean nothing to him.

“It’s time.”

The Imperial infiltrators nodded as they made their way towards the Southern gatehouse – the least defended of the four. Since the Imperial forces were known to be fighting in the northwest, Thomas and he had known that Leo would, inexperienced as she was, concentrate the prince’s forces in the north and western gates.

And, sure, enough, only a token force awaited them there – all militia.

They died quietly, having fallen asleep or drowsy at their posts, certain that they were safe.

“The signal,” he quietly ordered as the last militiaman fell. One of the Imperial soldiers nodded and went over to a nearby gatehouse fire and drew out a torch, waving it in a pre-arranged pattern to an unseen force lying in wait in the darkness a ways away.

For a tense moment, he wondered if this would work, and then he saw it.

A single fire arrow fired into the sky.

The return signal.

“They’re coming,” he said, turning to the others. “Wait half a minute, then open the gate.”

For the moment, they had the advantage of surprise, and the quality of the remaining militia left a lot to be desired. However, Lucas wasn’t so foolhardy as to ignore the fact that his team was severely outnumbered for the moment, so keeping things as calm and quiet as possible was necessary to make sure they weren’t swarmed before the Empire’s troops were inside the city to reinforce them.

He watched with bated breath as his instructions were carried out, at which point he and the infiltration team moved on to the next stage of the plan. Stripping the fallen militia of their gear, they quickly abandoned the gatehouse and made their way towards the central fortress. There would be no way for him to justify the army’s presence if he showed up with them, so he knew he had to do one better and take advantage of his erstwhile daughter’s overconfidence.

If he’d judged her right, she would’ve left an inexperienced commander at the fortress gate while keeping the experienced commanders at the north and western gates. Yet, he couldn’t run the risk of being recognized, so he made sure that one of the Imperials took the lead.

Serendipitously, he noted that, as they reached the fortress’ hill, that the din of battle had begun to sound at the southern gate as the Imperial forces burst through the open gate. It would help sell the story.

“HALT!”

He and his group complied as they reached the fortress gate. Standing above, he saw dim figures illuminated only by firelight.

“What’s the meaning of this? Why are you here?!”

He discreetly jabbed the Imperial in the side with his elbow.

The man understood. “The southern gate has fallen!” he cried out hysterically. “It’s the Empire! They suddenly swarmed the walls while we were asleep!”

“WHAT?!”

He could hear the panic in the gate commander’s voice and knew he’d been right. Leo had trusted in the city’s walls too much. She’d further never expected that the Imperial forces would deliberately avoid the expected attack vectors to catch them off guard.

She’d been a little girl playing at war.

“Let us in!” the Imperial continued. “We need to regroup and protect the fortress!”

“I…I…”

He couldn’t see the gate commander, but Lucas knew the man was likely sweating bullets and nervously considering what to do. If he’d been in control of his wits, he would’ve known that the correct course of action would’ve been to fire off alarm arrows into the night sky to inform the other gatehouses of the breach.

“P-PASSCODE!”

Fortunately, he wasn’t.

“The Lion’s Roar Dominates All!”

It was one of Michael’s predictably egotistical codes. He saw himself as some kind of paragon of virtue and might who’d become, in due time, the mightiest lord of all.

But he was a toad in a well – Thomas had shown him that.

And now the ocean was about to drown him whole.

“O-Open the gates! Lower the drawbridge!”

Lucas smirked under the cover of his helm as the plan proceeded like clockwork. Between his and Thomas’ information, the Kingdom’s forces had been caught flatfooted time and time again, overconfident and arrogant.

“It’ll take time for the Crown Prince’s forces to reach this place,” he reminded his comrades softly. “Pretend to follow their orders, then strike at my signal.”

The group nodded subtly as they waited for the gate to open fully, after which they quickly jogged inside as panicked soldiers were expected to do. Thanking the other militia for their help, they began to scatter a bit – some headed towards the armory under the excuse of rearming, while others took position at the wall. The Imperial who’d lead the group, meanwhile, went over to the gate commander to give his “report,” leaving Lucas to mill about. Given that some might recognize him, he decided to keep to himself, acting as the lead Imperial’s aide.

“Madness, this is madness!” the gate commander was whispering desperately. “How could the Empire’s forces have breached the gate?!”

“We don’t know,” the Imperial lied. “One moment we were guarding the wall, and the next we were being slaughtered from behind. They probably infiltrated the city weeks ago!”

The gate commander swore as he slammed an armored fist against the wall crenellation. “Damn those treacherous bastards! And just when His Highness is away!”

The Imperial nodded faux-somberly. “It’s a pity we were so undermanned. We might’ve been able to hold them off long enough to send word.”

The gate commander spat. “Don’t remind me. That stupid girl insisted the Prince’s forces were better used protecting the north and western gates alone. Ignored all advice to the contrary!”

Lucas eyed the city beyond the wall. The southern areas were burning now, the Imperial forces sweeping through without any major resistance. He could see the north and western gates firing off alarm signals now, too, indicating that for all their overconfidence, they’d realized – too late – what had happened.

No amount of reinforcements would be enough now. Just in sheer numbers, the Imperial Army dwarfed the city’s defenders. And all of the Crown Prince’s troops were elite soldiers.

Leo stood no chance of winning.

“We’ll have to hole up here while we wait for the Prince’s return,” the gate commander growled. “Fortunately, even if the city falls, this fortress can hold out for years. As long as it does, the Prince can always make a comeback.”

Lucas doubted that, since by now the Imperial infiltrators had likely reached both the armory and storage facilities and were just waiting for his signal to set both on fire.

He watched the light of torches mill about the city – Leo’s forces were rushing to meet the Imperials in battle, and by the looks of it, were being beaten bad. His daughter might’ve been powerful, but she lacked experience in strategy. Her only experience thus far had been putting down disorganized rebels – the memory still made him flinch – and the lack of any other experience meant she was more likely to make mistakes than to succeed. In time, perhaps, she might’ve been a worthwhile commander.

Unfortunately for her, her opponent, the Imperial Crown Prince, was a genius of warfare.

He heard something and glanced behind him, seeing one of his infiltrators discreetly motioning to him. Excusing himself, he walked over and bowed his head.

“Most of the fortress garrison is still in their barracks. We can strike anytime.”

“The walls?” he asked.

“All of the on-duty forces are within striking range.”

He nodded. It was time, then.

“Wait thirty seconds, then begin.”

“Understood.”

With that, he turned and returned to the gate commander and the lead Imperial, giving the latter a discreet nod that was not returned.

“Things are looking bad for our forces out there,” the Imperial commented.

“They do,” the gate commander grudgingly agreed. “Once they retreat here, however, we’ll have the numbers to hold off any force.”

“I disagree.”

“Wha—”

The gate commander had no chance to complete his query before Lucas came up behind him, slapped a hand over his mouth, then slid his knife across the man’s throat, cutting deeply into his neck.

He kept his grip on the man firm as he thrashed and clawed at him desperately, ignoring the brief surprise and quick end of the other nearby royal soldiers as they were killed by the lead Imperial.

Once the man was dead, he finally let him slide down onto the floor, prompting him to shake his bloodied hand to clear as much of the red liquid as he could, before turning to the lead Imperial.

“Time to end this,” he said.

Sophia could hardly believe what was happening.

Just a few months ago, she had been so happy and fulfilled – the new, young wife of Prince Michael, mother-to-be of his child and mother of his most trusted commander. Her loser, pathetic husband, Lucas, had been run out of the city over his betrayal, leaving her clear to enjoy the benefits of being the future Queen.

Yet, now, she was cowering in her room, her newborn babe and her daughter’s in her arms as she heard the screams of the fortress’ personnel as they died at the hands of the Imperial forces that had somehow, inexplicably, broken through the very walls Michael had told her were impenetrable.

She’d been so sure of Michael’s words that despite her protests against Leo going off to command the defense of the city walls, she hadn’t really feared the worst. Michael had always been right, after all, and if he said the walls would hold, they would.

Only when she’d glanced out the window, wondering why it was suddenly growing louder in the middle of the night, had she realized how wrong she was.

The city was on fire.

And Imperial troops were flooding through the fortress gate.

Her disbelief cost her dearly. She’d been paralyzed in shock, costing her precious minutes, by which time, when a guard had finally come bursting through the bedchamber doors to urge her to flee, she knew it was too late.

If the Imperial troops had managed to break into the fortress, then after all her wasted time, they would’ve taken over enough of the fortress to cut off any of her possible escape avenues.

The guard hadn’t believed her and fled on his own. She imagined he was dead by now.

Left alone in her bedchamber with the babes, she huddled inside the biggest wardrobe she could find, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t look in there. In a twisted way, it reminded her of her living conditions back when she’d been Lucas’ wife.

A twinge of nostalgia jabbed at her. They’d been poor, but they’d been happy. If it hadn’t been for her insistence that Lucas pursue a career in the Prince’s castle as a way to improve their fortunes, they might’ve still lived in the city – poorer, but happy.

No.

No, that was a lie.

She’d resented their poverty. So had Lucas, but he’d also had his pride. When he’d heard of the condition for his employment at the fortress, he’d argued against going ahead, but she’d been so sure of herself that she’d insisted on going through with it – swearing him loyalty and devotion.

And then Michael had shown her how pathetic Lucas was. How little his pride mattered. How much she could achieve if she just coveted what she felt she deserved and was willing to do anything to get it.

Just like how the Empire was now coveting and getting what they wanted.

Lucas was a fool. She was not.

If the city fell, Michael was finished – she understood that much. Fortunately for her, she was still young – just 32 years old. She still had childbearing years ahead of her, and she knew she was still considered beautiful.

How much harder could it be to charm an Imperial Crown Prince than it was to gain the attention of an older, more life-worn Prince?

The realization of this made her reconsider her actions. If she was caught hiding, she’d be treated as poorly as the other personnel in the fortress. If she behaved according to her station, however, she could possibly swing better treatment and an audience with the Crown Prince.

She left the wardrobe. She put the babes in their cribs. She waited.

And, eventually, the Imperials came.

“Mother!”

Leo was already in the audience hall, bloodied, battered, kneeling, and tied up as befitting a defeated general. Sophia’s own hands were similarly tied, but in front of her, not behind.

“Ah, this must be the infamous Whore of the South!”

The cruel amusement in the speaker’s voice chilled her a little, but she kept her cool. She’d heard the nicknames, of course – not everyone in the city believed the stories about Lucas and the rebellion. More than a few had had relatives suffer at the hands of Michael, and Sophia and Leo’s abandonment of their own kin had earned them no friends in those quarters. Michael had tried to stamp it out, but she knew it was a losing fight.

“Princess-Consort Sophia of House Savern at your service, Your Imperial Highness,” she instead said calmly, bowing before the figure seated quite casually and arrogantly on Michael’s throne.

The Imperial Crown Prince, Sieghart von Clausewitz, was a handsome man in his late thirties. Contrary to Michael’s portly, yet muscled body, Prince Sieghart still enjoyed the benefits of youth, sporting a leaner build and golden hair. Possibly the only similarity between her Prince and this one was the cruel glint in their eyes.

Yes, he’d make a most enjoyable bedfellow.

“Still so proud,” the prince crowed in amusement. “You are defeated. Your Prince is defeated. This Kingdom…is no more!”

Sophia flinched at the roar of approval that erupted from all of the Imperial soldiers in the room.

“And that means…” he continued once the din had died down, “that you are no Princess-Consort. You are no one. A commoner, as you used to be.”

That actually rattled her a little. Michael’s favor had been so desirable to her primarily because she could leave behind her commoner roots. And the Imperial Prince seemed to know that. Beside her, she saw from the corner of her eyes that Leo was snarling in anger.

“If that is so, Your Imperial Highness, then why bring us here?” she asked. “Why not just kill us as you have so many others here?”

The Imperial prince smirked in amusement as he leaned back into the throne. “A bet, as it were.”

Sophia frowned. A bet? With whom? Over what?

She mentally shook her head. She had no time for such games. Her survival and Leo’s depended on what she did next. Thus, she knelt on both knees and bowed her head.

“I acknowledge your words and supremacy, Your Imperial Highness!” she said, ignoring her daughter’s look of surprise and shock. “As you say, we are now no one – commoners once more!”

“Well, at least the whore knows her place!”

The laughter around her infuriated her, but she kept her calm, shooting Leo a warning look to do the same as well. Her daughter may have turned out more vicious and temperamental under Michael’s tutelage, but she still acknowledged her authority.

She returned her attention to the Prince. “However, my daughter and I are unfairly maligned, Your Imperial Highness! We are no whores! We were victims!”

“Oh? Of whom?”

“Of my husband, my former husband that is – a petty soldier named Lucas!” she lied.

The room fell silent. No laughter answered her. She dared glance up and saw that everyone’s eyes were stonily on her. Even the Prince seemed only mildly amused now.

“Go on.”

She bowed her head again. “He…he abused us, Your Imperial Highness! My daughter and I! It became intolerable when he finally entered the Prince’s service here at the fortress, and the Prince, in his magnanimity, saw fit to save us from him!”

She glanced over at Leo, silently urging her to follow her lead.

Fortunately, her daughter wasn’t that dense.

“Y-Yeah!” Leo agreed. “My fath—Lucas, he beat me, beat my mother! The Prince put an end to that!”

“And for it, that miserable wretch rebelled! But the Prince was merciful and wed a ruined woman like myself and favored my daughter with education and opportunity!”

“And for that reason, you are no whores?” the Prince asked.

She nodded. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness!” she agreed. “I acknowledge your words – we are commoners. But our only sin was to love someone who showered us with love! That is the sort of people we are! Not whores! Merely…grateful.”

It was risky, but she’d given her proposal. If the Crown Prince showed her and Leo mercy, she’d do for him what she’d done for Michael. Both she and Leo would.

Dead silence answered her…and then came the soft chuckle.

Then the boisterous laughter.

Then, to her rising concern, the entire hall was filled with raucous laughter.

Only as it began to die down did she dare speak up again. “Y-Your Imperial Highness?”

He was still chuckling, however, so it took him a moment – and an act to wipe away a mirthful tear – before he answered her.

“You truly are a piece of work,” he said somewhat admiringly. “I can’t believe I lost that bet.”

“In fairness, Your Highness, your standards are sky-high thanks to your esteemed wife,” one of the Imperial commanders piped up next to the seated royal.

“That’s entirely fair,” the Crown Prince acknowledged before turning his attention back to Sophia. “I have to say – he warned me what kind of person you were, but I really didn’t believe anyone could be so shameless.”

“Your Highness!”

He ignored her cry of protest with a dismissive wave. “Enough. Anything coming out of your mouth is likely to be some halfwit lie and as much as I enjoy a good laugh, I am a busy person,” he said imperiously before standing up from the throne and sweeping out an arm. “Forces of the Empire, hear now your Prince’s commands!”

Sophia and Leo flinched at the sudden sound of so many armored fists smacking against breastplates as the Imperial troops stood at attention.

“By the authority vested in me as Commander in Chief of the Imperial Army by His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor, I hereby proclaim the Kingdom of Savern disbanded and its titles voided! The House of Savern is stripped of its titles and nobility and consigned to the status of war prisoners! This city shall be renamed Siegesstadt in honor of our triumph!”

A roar of triumphant cheering broke out in the hall, making the two women flinch again.

“The city shall be, as agreed upon, awarded to the new Count of Neueländer in honor for his wartime service, whose territories shall further comprise all of those that formerly made up this province!” he continued. “And, as requested and agreed upon, I shall give him the Whores of the South as his prisoners, to do with as he wills!”

The raucous cheers continued as Sophia processed what had just been declared. Not only was her country gone, but Michael’s status was now as low as hers. There would be no talk of mere concessions at peace talks – there simply wouldn’t be peace talks. The Kingdom was done.

And she and Leo had been traded away to the new Count of Neueländer, who’d been awarded this place. A man, who, apparently, had asked for her and her daughter.

She knew she ought to have felt despair at all she’d lost, but Sophia wasn’t a survivor for nothing. If she’d somehow caught the eye of this new Count so that she and Leo were now being specifically requested, then that meant she had a shot to reverse her fortunes yet again. Lucas and Michael had been too weak to keep her, so now it was time to find a new protector who would take care of her and Leo where those useless men hadn’t been able to.

“Wait here.”

Sophia afforded herself a glower at the back of the Imperial soldier as she was roughly shoved into the familiar bedchamber that had once been hers and Michael’s. It would now belong to the new Count, but she took it as a good sign that she and Leo had been brought here instead of the dungeon cells.

She noted, somewhat belatedly, that her baby and Leo’s weren’t around, but she found that inevitable. Once they’d been captured, there’d be no question that the babes would be inconvenient to their own survival, so she’d made peace with the fact that they were likely going to either end up in an orphanage, nunnery, or dead.

“Mother, what’s going to happen to us?” Leo asked her once they were alone in the room. “And what was that about Lucas abusing us?!”

“Foolish girl,” Sophia sighed. “Don’t you understand anything? We lost. And our reputation hasn’t been the best since we chose Michael. I had to find a way to avoid us getting executed or worse.”

“Didn’t work, though, did it?” Leo grumbled.

“Not as much as I hoped,” Sophia conceded. “But it seems I didn’t need to bother. This new Count wants us, so you understand what that means, right?”

Leo’s eyes widened. “B-But…what about Michael?!”

“Michael is done, silly girl!” Sophia snapped. “Didn’t you hear the Imperial Crown Prince?! Michael lost everything! We have to look out for ourselves now!”

Leo looked rebellious at the very thought of betraying Michael like that, but Sophia knew she’d see reason soon enough. She’d been hesitant in betraying Lucas, too, but had given in easily enough. She could pretend at nobility all she wanted, but she knew her daughter was as rotten and ambitious as she was.

She heard the door shift and quickly grabbed her daughter and pulled her down to her knees as she did the same. “Now, be quiet and let me do the talking! If we’re lucky, we’ll never see the inside of a cell!”

And, well, if Leo insisted on her rebellion, Sophia knew she could always use the dungeon to cool her down while she worked on convincing her to let go of Michael.

The door swung open, the hinges creaking ever so softly, and she heard the sound of plated boots march in as she stared down at the floor, followed by softer footfalls. The new Count and his guards, she presumed.

And then her hopes came crashing down in the cruelest fashion.

“Long time no see…wife.”

Lucas relished the look of horrified realization on his wife’s face as her head snapped up at his voice, followed immediately by Leo’s own look of disbelief.

Oh, how he’d looked forward to this day ever since he’d joined Thomas’ treacherous plot against the Kingdom. In exchange for their services, Thomas had successfully negotiated generous compensation for himself and Lucas. Thomas would gain a Marquisate on the other side of the former Kingdom, far from the ill memories of this place, while Lucas would gain his home city and the entire province as a county. In return, he pledged to dismantle most of the military fortifications that had made his new city so conventionally impregnable.

A small price to pay for revenge.

“Ah, that’s right,” he said with faux-realization as he stepped away from his ex-wife and ex-daughter and took a seat in what he knew had once been Michael’s favorite chair. “You said it yourself, right? You’re no longer my wife. You’re Michael’s. Saw the wedding, by the way – very ostentatious. Wearing white was a peculiar choice, though, all things considered.”

“L-Lucas…”

He gestured and one of the guards slammed the pole of his poleax across Sophia’s face, causing her to go sprawling onto the ground.

“That’s my lord to you, woman,” he corrected her as she laid there, whimpering and dazed.

“Father!”

He paid Leo no heed. “As you heard from His Imperial Highness, you are both now mine to do as I please,” he said calmly. “Whether you live or die is my prerogative and will remain so for the rest of your lives.”

“FATHER!”

Another gesture – this time, Leo gasped and doubled over as she was punched in the gut by the other guard.

“I do not recall having a living daughter,” he told her as she struggled to recover. “The only daughter I had died months ago, replaced by a sniveling snake who spread her legs to a monster at the behest of her equally vile mother.”

He watched for a moment as the two women who’d nearly ruined his life recovered from their respective blows before standing back up and walking over, his guards firmly restraining them as he stood above them.

“Did you really think you could live as you did without consequence?” he asked them dangerously. “That you could just trample over others and pretend at virtue?”

“H-How…how are you…any different?” Sophia managed to bite out.

“Wench!” her assigned guard snapped, ready to beat her again. Lucas raised a hand to stop him and instead reached out and roughly grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look up at him.

“Whatever monster I may become, you made me, Sophia,” he told her. “I am the consequence of your actions made manifest. If you had stayed loyal, if you had stayed humble, you would not be facing this fate before you.”

He savored the glare she tried to shoot him.

“I saw your daughters, incidentally,” he informed them as he released his ex-wife’s face. “There was talk about what to do with them.”

Leo’s head snapped up. “My…my daughter! Where is she?! What’re you going to do to her?!”

“That’s up to the Crown Prince,” he replied calmly as he returned to his seat. “They have dirty Savern blood, so he might decide to just do the merciful thing and kill them—”

“NO!”

“—or he might send them to the care of a nunnery or some noble he trusts to not use them against the Empire. Whatever the case, they’ll not be treated as nobility.”

He knew Leo wouldn’t get it, but Sophia sure did, and he enjoyed the look of shock on her face.

“He gave them to you?”

He smirked. “He did,” he confirmed.

“Why?!”

“Because he knows how much I hate Michael. And how much I hate you,” he explained. “He knows I will never bend my knee to them because I’d rather die before letting anyone of your blood or Michael’s ever sit on a throne, so there’s zero chance of me rebelling on their behalf. He knows I’d rather slit their throats before ever risking them rising to any sort of power.”

He gestured aimlessly in the air. “So they’ll be my wards. Not my daughters, not my granddaughter in your babe’s case,” he told Leo, “not noble wards, but simple, commoner, orphan wards. As they grow up, perhaps they’ll become maidservants, or maybe I’ll just marry them off to some small-time merchant or city guard…in fact! Why not do just that?” he mused aloud, smiling cruelly at Sophia. “I’ll make sure your daughter weds some random, low-end commoner city guard. How’s that for irony?”

Sophia scowled at him. “…and us?”

He chuckled. “As callous as ever, Sophia!” he said. “Not an ounce of concern for your progeny! Hell, I bet if Leo here had protested more and tried something at the audience hall, you would’ve abandoned her, too, huh?”

She didn’t need to answer – he already knew it to be true. And Leo would learn that soon enough, even if she didn’t seem to believe him right now.

“As for you two, you’re to be assigned as maidservants to the Count’s household,” he informed them, moving on to answer her question.

“Let me guess…your personal maidservants?” Sophia sneered.

He chuckled. “Heavens, no!”

That seemed to surprise her, much to his joy, so he pressed on. “My dear, you were Michael’s plaything. Do you seriously think I’d go anywhere near you after that? I might as well decide to fuck a pig!”

“Wha—But—I…!”

“Fa—My lord, that’s—!”

“Your purpose,” he stressed as he looked at them falter. “Is to witness. To watch as everything you wanted is given to someone else. You,” he looked at Sophia, “wanted power, prestige, luxury, and nobility. Well, within a few months, I will be married again, to an Imperial noblewoman who will become the new Countess. She will have everything you wanted, and you will end up having to serve her. And you,” he turned to Leo, “wanted to become a soldier? To become a warrior? Well, I will be opening the ranks of the county’s knightage to women, and you will be permanently banned from ever serving in any military capacity. When the knightage is established, I will make you serve them so you can only ever watch as more deserving women get what you always wanted.”

He relished the look on their faces as he spelled out their fates. It was, truly, the most hellish existence he could imagine for such self-important women. Sophia had always been ambitious and proud, and the very idea that she would have to watch some other woman get what she felt was hers would drive her mad.

And Leo? Just from the look on her face, he knew he’d shattered her life.

Leo had always desired the honor of being a knight. She’d lamented her womanhood and bound her chest just to appear boyish. She’d trained so hard for most of her life, and Michael had, arguably, given her a taste of the sort of military life she’d always aspired to.

Except when she’d spoken of being a knight as a child, she’d imagined herself a warrior of justice. Instead, she had turned into a warrior of cruelty and oppression.

And now, the thing she wanted most – to be openly both woman and knight – was just within reach…and he’d snatched it away from her forever.

Yes…he felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he realized this was the resolution he’d needed. He’d considered just outright killing them, but knew it wouldn’t heal the wound in his heart. He needed them to feel the despair he’d felt, the sort of emotional and psychological agony he’d endured, so that they’d be even.

Killing them would be merciful. Living was crueler.

“Oh, Lucas!”

Lucas smiled in satisfaction as he brought his beloved wife Magda to climax once more. With the benefit of years of hindsight, he understood that he’d been a rather subpar lover in his first marriage, but much to his joy, Magda had been patient and willing to teach him.

Now well into their fourth year of marriage, he still deeply enjoyed the look of pure ecstasy on her face as his ministrations brought her over the edge, causing her to twitch and flinch as waves of pleasure crashed over her. As she settled down in his arms, he tilted her head up so he could lean down and plant a passionate kiss on her enticing lips.

Magda was, in every way possible, a vast upgrade over his vile ex-wife. Beautiful in her own right, she was also of stubborn loyalty, deeply noble spirit, and compassionate, but wise and stern.

She had also been way out of his league considering she was a daughter of the House of Eisengarde, an Imperial Duchy that had long produced the Empire’s finest Marshals. However, it seemed that Thomas had come through for him and talked him up to both the Crown Prince and the Duke, who then agreed to at the very least allow him to court his second oldest daughter – which was saying something, considering the House of Eisengarde was notoriously protective of its own.

Fortunately, his somewhat bumbling charm had won her over – even after he’d shared what had happened to him prior to the Imperial invasion. Contrary to his expectations, she had never brought up revising his punishments against Sophia and Leo nor argued in favor of their rehabilitation. She had acknowledged that the pain he had suffered at their hands was something she could not fully understand, and thus she felt she could not properly judge whether or not his retaliation had been warranted.

It had been the kind of emotional support he had always desired from Sophia but never gotten, and even when he’d broken down in tears of gratitude in Magda’s arms, the noblewoman had not pushed him away or treated him as inferior for it.

Thus, he had since their marriage earned a reputation as a man deeply devoted to his wife, who was in turn deeply devoted to him. And, together, they ruled their county with wisdom and temperance.

Michael’s “rituals” and more egregious abuses were brought to light and outlawed permanently. Any words of support for his reign were repressed swiftly. Statues and mentions of him were erased where found. By the end of their second year in power, it would’ve been a monumental effort to find any trace that Michael had once even existed in the city.

Even his legacy, the two babes he’d begotten by Sophia and Leo, were raised unaware of who their parents were. As far as the two girls were concerned, they were orphans that the Count and Countess had taken pity on and decided to raise in the safety of the central fortress.

And as for Sophia and Leo…well, he’d been true to his word.

Sophia had been assigned as a common maidservant doing menial jobs, such as cleaning – always under the close supervision of a member of the new female knights in order to prevent her from using her wiles to escape or do something nefarious. At times, just to torment her even further, he discreetly had her assigned to stand outside his quarters when he was with Magda so she’d hear their passionate lovemaking.

Perhaps the most joy he’d felt in that whole fracas had been the moment when he’d called for a maid after a particularly intense lovemaking session and she’d walked in and seen how thoroughly exhausted and pleased Magda was on the bed before having to give him a towel. He could see the desire, resentment, despair, and rage in Sophia’s eyes and thoroughly enjoyed dismissing her so he could rest with his wife.

Leo, for her part, was reportedly a shadow of her past self.

True to his word, he’d opened the knightage to women and made it a grand ceremony when the first trainees were deemed acceptable enough to rise to the rank of knight. Not only had Leo been present to watch him bestow the honor upon these women while she, his daughter, would never get to enjoy such a thing, but he had also then assigned her to work at the knights’ barracks.

Where they had promptly made it clear they were not her friends and knew what she’d done to her own father.

It had been the cruelest twist of the knife – that not only could she never be a knight, but that even the women who could would never empathize or sympathize with that desire. She was not treated as a cute maid who chased after an honorable dream – she was treated as a vile kin betrayer who shamed all women who sought the martial path.

It still made him smile to remember the moment when, fully despairing, she’d thrown herself at his and Magda’s feet, with Sophia nearby, and hysterically begged for his forgiveness. She’d admitted to everything she’d done, to every vile act she’d performed with Michael and how she’d conspired with her mother to humiliate him – everything.

Another man in another time and universe would have seen such a pitiful display and shown compassion.

Lucas did not.

He knew that, had the roles been reversed, she would’ve ground his head into the ground with her plated boot just like she already had once before. That she would’ve relished his humiliation. There was no true repentance in his ex-daughter’s life – only regret that she’d lost everything by betting on the wrong horse.

So he and Magda had simply walked away, leaving Leo to her despairing wails.

In the end, he knew that as a father, he ought to have felt something deeper, but his experiences had hardened him to a point where he was actually a little concerned and shared that concern with Magda.

His beloved wife simply smiled and assured him that she did not think he had hardened his heart too much – that he was still a good man at heart. And that once they had their own children, he would see that the same fatherly love he’d once given Leo would come flowing back into him as he showered his new children with it.

He’d privately doubted it…until he’d held his son and daughter in his arms.

Twins…perfect little twins born in their fourth year of marriage.

And in that moment, as he held them in his arms, tears of joy flowing freely from his eyes, he acknowledged that Magda had been right. The love he felt for his son and daughter were as powerful as he remembered it had once been for Leo.

And now, five years into his marriage, the twins being a year old and healthy, his wife smiling contently in his arms, Lucas reflected that, finally, at long last, he was truly happy.

Not because he was obedient to some scummy lord or two-timing wife and daughter, but because he was allowed the chance to be loyal, devoted, and loving.

Chapter 27: Paths Diverge

Chapter Text

Yousuke avoided Akane from that day forth.

Well, as much as one could, given they lived in a small, country town where everyone knew each other.

More accurately, Yousuke began to avoid spending as much time with Akane as he could. At school, he’d make every excuse under the sun not to be alone with her, or simply avoided talking to her by engaging his other classmates in conversation – even at one point straight up saying he needed to go to the bathroom or check something with the teacher.

Her look of confusion and sadness tore at his heart, but Yousuke remained firm.

He could not trust her smile. Nor her words. Akane, for better or worse, was not interested in him. He knew that now. When she’d told him she liked him, he realized now she meant as a friend. As a person.

But nothing more.

But the problem was that he had liked her. And hearing your crush and childhood friend getting railed and then having what could only be described as passionate, consensual sex with the town idiot and playboy, was not pleasant or soothing for the soul.

So he needed space and time.

Akane didn’t let up, of course. Since he couldn’t speak to her right now on account of his mixed up feelings, she had no idea why he was avoiding her all of a sudden. Time and time again, she reached out to him, to no avail.

It hurt him to have to hurt her like that, but even just a look at her face threatened to break what emotional calm he had left.

Besides, he was sure she’d get over it soon enough. She had Sugiyama, after all.

So he kept at his self-isolating routine, avoiding Akane as much as he could, only telling his parents that she and he had unresolved issues, and they were thankfully understanding enough to let things be and run interference for him when she inevitably came calling at the house.

In the end, a full month passed after that day’s incident, and Yousuke was finally able to feel like he could breathe calmly and keep his emotions in check while occupying the same space as her. No longer did he feel his heart beat a thousand beats per second while they were in the same class. No longer did he feel like throwing up every time he caught sight of Sugiyama leering at her.

It had taken him a while, sure, but he actually felt ready to move on.

From this place, from the countryside, and from Akane.

So, for once, he allowed her to ambush him at the school entrance – having ignored Sugiyama’s call for the “cool kids” to go and hang out by the river.

“Yousuke!”

He nodded at her as he pushed his bike past her, seemingly ignoring her attempt at stopping him.

“Are you seriously going to keep ignoring me?!” she demanded tearfully as she spun around. “What happened to you?! Aren’t we friends?! Why are you being like this?!”

He paused. The first time he’d done so in a month – having previously ignored her other pleas. Sighing deeply, he turned to look at her over his shoulder.

“You should go,” he told her. “The others’ll be waiting for you.”

Akane glowered and grit her teeth as tears pooled in her eyes. “Who cares?! My best friend is ignoring me and avoiding me like I’m dirty! Why the hell would I go with the others?!”

He tilted his head. “Because aren’t you Sugiyama’s girlfriend? I mean, you’re definitely sleeping with him.”

Whatever she had expected him to say, that clearly wasn’t it as the color drained from her face, her eyes widened, her jaw slackened, and her fists uncurled and went limp at her sides.

“I…I…”

Yousuke looked up at the sky. “So I figure he probably wouldn’t like it if we hung out too much. Y’know, since you and he are together and all that.”

“B-But…y-you knew?!”

“I was there a month ago. In the shed,” he told her. “I was behind the equipment taking a nap.”

Akane gave a small, shrill shriek of despair as she processed his words.

“No!” she protested. “That…that can’t be! I…you’re misunderstanding!”

“I saw and heard everything, Akane,” he told her flatly. “I don’t think I am.”

“We…I…he…we’re not dating! I don’t even like him!” she protested earnestly, reaching out to him in appeal. “I swear! It…it was just sex!”

He recoiled from her grasp at that, his expression turning sour – prompting her to flinch back in surprise.

“If that’s true, then I really didn’t know you as well as I thought I did,” he told her coldly. “And you didn’t know me, either. I didn’t think you’d be that loose.”

Akane took a step back in surprise at the venom in his tone. “I…Yousuke?”

“I know I’m in the minority, but to me sex is precious,” he told her firmly. “You do it only with the person you care about. Anything else is just beastly lust!”

He glowered at her. “So if all you were doing was having sex for sex’s sake, then I’m sorry, Akane, but we clearly aren’t close enough to consider each other best friends. And, if I’m perfectly honest, I’m not entirely comfortable being around you, knowing it would take nothing for you to have sex with someone.”

Akane flushed red at the implication, but the shock of Yousuke’s cruel words killed whatever response she might’ve had.

“So, with all due respect, I think we’re done,” he said, turning around to leave. “Have fun with the others, Akane.”

With that, he hopped onto his bike and pedaled off, leaving his stunned, insulted, and embarrassed former friend behind.

The fallout was predictable.

Having made himself clear on where he stood regarding her sexual promiscuity, Yousuke and Akane’s friendship imploded – and he made no effort to hide it. Whatever little interaction he’d had with her over the past month had now effectively died. At times, she would glower at him out the corner of her eye or just glance curiously – maybe expecting him to apologize – but he never did.

He knew she had a different view of sex, and that was, ultimately, fine. Everyone viewed sex differently. But his own view made him uncomfortable around the sexually promiscuous – which was why he had long avoided Sugiyama and viewed him as an imbecilic ape.

Akane, regrettably, had turned out to be more like Sugiyama than himself. That was all there was to it.

Their classmates naturally picked up on the collapsed friendship and inquired, but he had no interest in gossiping, so he just shrugged the questions off. Akane, for her part, would often just mumble something and then look away.

The only party remotely unaffected by the entire change in dynamic was Sugiyama himself, who despite obviously noticing the collapsed friendship, simply assumed it would mean more time with Akane.

Unfortunately for him, Yousuke heard through the grapevine that Akane had very publicly shut him down. Which explained his sour mood for the next few weeks after that, until he turned his attention to another girl.

None of which really mattered to Yousuke, really.

With his closest relationship gone, he now truly felt untethered from a life in the countryside. He’d long resented it, but part of him had rationalized that it would be fine if he had Akane by his side. With that possibility gone, he doubled down instead on his dream to move to the city.

And that meant studying.

So, much unlike before, he hit the books and made his best effort to raise his grades. He made it no secret why, either – and while most of his classmates figured he’d quit or just wondered why he’d leave, only Akane seemed genuinely alarmed.

And, in the end, Yousuke achieved his goal when, in their senior year, his parents greeted him one day with an acceptance letter to a university in the city. Not the best ones, of course – his parents wouldn’t be able to afford those anyway – but decently ranked and affordable and, most importantly, not in the countryside.

Graduation felt all the sweeter for it.

He accepted the well-wishes from his classmates respectfully and with humility, but noted that Akane was the only one not to do so. Instead, she’d looked at him, heartbroken, as she stood there with her graduation diploma case tightly gripped in her hands. She, as expected, had not applied for university after all, having chosen to remain in the countryside she loved.

And, you know what? That was fine.

Not all childhood paths remained tied together. Often enough, they would diverge.

Akane had loved the countryside and its relaxed attitudes towards sex. Yousuke couldn’t stand either.

In the end, they would’ve just been miserable together anyway.

And so, life went on.

Chapter 28: One Week's Consequences

Chapter Text

“Nice work this week, lol!”

*step*

*step*

*step*

“Eh, what’s—”

*WHAM*

That asshole probably had no idea what hit him. Honestly, neither did I. Nor Mizuki, whose shocked yelp next to us sounded incredibly distant at the moment. All I could think about was that disgusting video call the piece of shit beneath me had sent me, without Mizuki’s consent, and the underlying taunt.

I was not the bravest guy around. I’ll admit that. Nor a saint of any kind.

But even a guy like me had his pride.

Mizuki didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about her? You know what? Fine. It hurts. Shit happens. Our friendship would probably not survive, and that was heartbreaking, but I’d also seen many other relationships fall apart with time both at school and elsewhere. My mom and dad had made and lost friends over the years, as had everyone else.

It would hurt a while, but I’d get over it and move on.

But this piece of shit had taunted me about it. Had been bragging about fucking my childhood friend and crush because it amused him to make me hear see and hear her having sex with him.

And that crossed the fucking line.

Hori Tayima was by no means a chump or a weakling, and nine times out of ten, this would’ve been a much different situation. However, cold-cocking him in the chin out of nowhere had taken him by surprise and he was now down on Mizuki’s bed, where, still stunned by the initial blow, he was now feeling my full fury as I beat his face black and blue.

I idly felt something tugging at my shirt and lashed out. The moment I was free of that grip, I resumed my beating.

I didn’t kill him.

It was tempting. But I didn’t. He didn’t deserve to die for being a piece of shit. But he also needed to understand that there were consequences to being one.

By the time I was satiated, I’d done enough damage, anyway. Every inch of his face was swollen and bruised. His nose was undeniably broken and twisted. Both of his eyes were barely visible under the swelling, and blood smeared all over his broken face.

Getting off him, breathing heavily, I could feel the pain from my own torn knuckles begin to sting, but ignored it. Seeing him there, on Mizuki’s bed, twitching, moaning, and whimpering in pain, was a hell of an anesthetic.

But it wasn’t enough.

With a grunt, I heaved up my foot, glad I hadn’t done the polite thing and removed my shoes at the entrance, and brought the heel down on his crotch.

The pained, weak shriek of pain he gave out was the final point of satisfaction. He’d been so fucking proud of himself in that video call about his size and how it made Mizuki feel? Well, let’s see him back that up now.

Oh, right. Mizuki.

Turning to my left, I finally caught sight of her again. She was up against the wall at the foot of her bed, huddled and whimpering, a vicious bruise forming on her cheek.

Oh.

That thing that had been trying to hold me back before was her. So, when I’d lashed out…

Right.

Made sense.

I dug out my phone and keyed up the recorded video call. A lesser man would’ve done so to fap at the sight. I had done it to have evidence.

I keyed it up and showed it to her huddled figure. The look of shock on her face told me enough.

“He video called me to show me this,” I told her simply. “I hope you’re happy with this piece of shit.”

With that, I spat on Hiro’s prone form and leaned over him.

“Don’t show your face at school. I see you, I’ll kill you,” I threatened him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll transfer out.”

With that, I left the room.

Apologize, you might ask? To Mizuki? For what? For hitting her? That’d been an accident and one she’d caused by getting in the way of two people settling accounts.

Was I worried about repercussions?

Sure. A bit.

Until I realized Mizuki wasn’t the smartest girl in the bunch to begin with, and Hiro was as smart as a brick. I wasn’t that smart, either, but compared to them?

I might as well have been Einstein.

Outside Mizuki’s house, I called her mom and, very apologetically, very shaken, asked to see her. She’d known me since we were children, and, conversely, I knew her, too.

What Mizuki and Hiro had been up to under her roof had definitely flown against all of her rules. Especially as they had been having unprotected sex – and Mizuki’s mother was not about to allow her underage, schoolgirl of a daughter to become a teen mom.

Suffice to say that, when Mrs. Tsukishiro arrived rushing back home and saw my state, she was concerned. When she heard I’d been in a fight, she’d been beside herself with worry – like the second mother she was to me.

But when I told her what had happened and showed her the video recording, that worry turned into fury.

And, as I’d expected, not towards me.

Since I’d refused to go back inside – the memories of what I’d seen in there had been too awful and sickening for me to stomach again so soon – she’d stormed inside herself and, even standing outside, I could hear her screams of anger as she chewed out Mizuki and howled for Tayima to leave her house and never come back. Given his state, that proved to be difficult, so I wasn’t that surprised when, some minutes later – still in the midst of hearing Mrs. Tsukishiro chew out Mizuki – Mr. Tsukishiro arrived as well, looking like death incarnate coming to reap his due.

“Mr. Tsukishiro,” I greeted him with a respectful nod. The man seemed to snap out of his murderous trance at my voice and, realizing I was there, nodded back in greeting.

“Takuya,” he greeted me, sighing deeply as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I…thank you for letting us know about Mizuki’s unacceptable behavior. I’m…I’m sorry, my boy. I know you and she…that…Mari and I, we hoped…”

I smiled. Of course her parents had known. In hindsight, it would’ve been odd for them not to, given how often I came over and hung out, unsupervised, in Mizuki’s room instead of the living room. Heck, Mrs. Tsukishiro had probably allowed Tayima to stay with Mizuki alone believing there was no real threat of anything untoward because she was sure Mizuki and I were going to be a thing.

Shows what we all know.

“It’s alright, Mr. Tsukishiro,” I told him with a wan smile. “It…just wasn’t meant to be.”

He smiled sadly and put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good man, Takuya. Don’t let my idiot daughter make you doubt that for one second.”

I nodded and squeezed his hand on my shoulder gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Tsukishiro.”

He smiled again before a particularly shrill scream of anger from Mrs. Tsukishiro caught his attention, and then the murderous look was back in his eyes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

I nodded and stepped away, allowing him to stalk into his house. The yelling intensified now, with Mr. Tsukishiro getting involved, and before long, I was treated to the sight of Tayima being literally tossed out of the house as Mizuki cried out inside the house. From the glimpse I saw before the door was firmly shut again, Mrs. Tsukishiro had slapped her daughter as Mizuki tried to stop her father from tossing Tayima out.

Amused, I decided to get another blow in on Tayima and swaggered over, leaning over his beaten body as he slowly regained awareness – evidently, Mr. Tsukishiro had gotten a few licks in as well.

“You fucked up, trash,” I told him as I saw what little remained visible of his eyes regain focus. “You know that guy that just tossed you out? He’s not just Mizuki’s daddy. He’s a lawyer.”

The fear I saw in his eyes as he realized what I meant was delicious to behold.

“A really good one, too,” I told him. “And Mizuki was his precious little angel. So, imagine what he’ll be willing to do and cover up to get rid of you…”

I smiled evilly and squatted next to his head. “Like I said before. You show your face at school or anywhere near here ever again, I’ll kill you. And with Mizuki’s dad’s help, I’ll get away with it. We clear?”

I didn’t wait for a response – he wasn’t in any condition to give one, anyway, given how battered he looked. Instead, I just whistled as I left, the yells from the Tsukishiro household not dying down one bit as I started my way back home. When neighbors leaned out to ask what had gone down, I gave them the sanitized version – a delinquent had gotten fresh with Mizuki, who had abused her parents’ trust and lied about her relationship with him, and her parents had found out.

I didn’t want to put her parents through anything more unsavory than that – and this way, the fault lay entirely with Mizuki and Tayima, not on her parents.

Predictably, there would be no sympathetic stares left for Tayima as he eventually was able to make his way back home.

My own folks heard a similar, less sanitized version of what had happened, but again, I made sure to exculpate Mr. and Mrs. Tsukishiro as much as possible. They were sympathetic – mom even helped treat my knuckle cuts – but also made it clear that this meant they would never approve of a relationship between myself and Mizuki.

Which I assured them was firmly no longer on the table.

Tayima smartly did not show up to school the next day – but neither did Mizuki. I expected that, to be honest, given everything that had gone down. Fortunately, it was Friday, so the excuse that she was just a bit sick had held over any questions the school might’ve had.

By the time Monday rolled around, though, it was evident that she had not had a good weekend.

She flinched at the sight of me and at first hesitated to even speak to me. When she did try, however, I paid her no mind. She must’ve thought that was a fluke, or perhaps I hadn’t heard her, however, as she kept trying throughout the day – but, each time, I struck up a conversation with another classmate, left, or simply ignored her.

By the end of the day, the look on her face told me she’d gotten the message that I wanted nothing to do with her – punctuated by the fact that I volunteered to stay behind and help out with committee tasks and made no plans to meet up afterwards.

Tayima, for his part, didn’t show up at all.

In fact, just a few days later, we were informed by the homeroom teacher that Tayima had unexpectedly dropped out of school due to personal reasons. No further details. Mizuki’s shocked and disappointed look was predictable, but irritating – so I ratted her out to her parents.

She did not show up to school the next day.

It wasn’t a long absence – just that day – but when she returned, her entire style had been changed. Her tight shirts were now hidden by a blouse. Her short summer skirt was replaced by the longest acceptable variant. She wore no makeup, and her hair was styled conservatively. Even her smartphone had been replaced by a simple flip phone. She evidently hated it, judging from the shamed look she had on her face as the others in the class commented on it.

It was frankly hilarious.

And it was evident to her who had ratted her out, too, since only one person in the class would’ve even reached out to her parents to let them know how she’d reacted to the news about Tayima.

And, to her despair, she was stuck with me all year long.

By the end of said school year, Mizuki had drastically changed. Her usual, bubbly self had been beaten and worn down to almost nothing – little more than a doll who came to school, attended class, then went back home to study, eat, sleep, repeat. As I understood it, her parents even banned her from going out with friends – which functionally killed off her social life – and absolutely forbade her from having any boys over.

Even myself – for which her parents were apologetic, but I understood. Since she had evidently so little self-control, she couldn’t be trusted to be alone with any boys alone while still a minor. They wouldn’t be able to do much when she turned 18, but at least for the next two years, they would do as much as they could.

Still, I had to admit, the most hilarious bit about all of this was hearing that, when summer arrived, she was enrolled in a summer-long seminar of some kind designed to reeducate adulterers, recklessly promiscuous teens, and former teenage sex workers towards proper morals. I wasn’t sure how effective that would be, but just the idea that she would have to sit in on lectures that all but accused her of being a loose, undisciplined, immoral woman was enough to have made me laugh so hard my ribs hurt.

In the end, though, I didn’t get to see the results of that seminar because, unsurprisingly, her parents decided to move away – the scandal of their daughter’s actions proving to be too much to bear for the much more proper couple. I sent them a letter of commiseration and my best wishes before they left.

There was no final farewell between Mizuki and I, on the other hand. One day she was living a couple of houses away; the next, she was not.

And that was that.

As for what came after…well, as they say:

Life goes on.

Chapter 29: Memories Fade as the Future Blooms

Chapter Text

“F-Fired?!”

Nonoka could barely hear through the loud keen running through her mind as the convenience store owner handed down his decision.

Beside her, her lover and father of her unborn child, Hiro, was reacting in a much more vocal way.

“Why, boss?!” he demanded, paling and sweating profusely.

Their boss stared at them flatly. “Are you serious right now?” he asked before turning his computer monitor and queuing up a series of security footage takes.

Nonoka felt sick as she was then treated to a veritable reel of her and Hiro having sex on store premises. Every single time Hiro had crossed the line with her, recorded on CCTV footage for as long as the owner wanted. A more unscrupulous man would’ve seen that as golden blackmail material.

The owner, however, was simply an ordinary, conventional, moral man.

And he’d hated what he saw.

“Nevermind the flagrant violation of professionalism by the two of you,” the owner told them coldly. “There’s also the fact that this sick relationship between the two of you is illegal,” he pointed out. “Both in the fact that Kasuga here is a minor, you dumbass,” he told Hiro, before turning his cold gaze on Nonoka, who flinched, “and the fact that it was in public.”

He queued up the final video in the series and she felt her stomach churn at watching herself get molested by Hiro while Matsubara, the boy from her class who’d confessed to her and she’d rejected so cruelly, watched on in horror.

“So, yes, Hiro. You’re fired. Both of you are,” the boss told them flatly.

As they stood there, shell-shocked, the boss turned his attention back to Hiro.

“And you should know, I had to turn this footage over to the police, so I’d suggest looking for a good lawyer.”

Nonoka’s eyes widened at the news. Neither she nor Hiro were especially well-off, financially speaking – hence the reason they both worked at a convenience store. She was herself still a minor, a high-school dropout, and had no degree of any kind – so her employment prospects were the worst of the pair.

And now, as she was waiting for a baby she’d created with her lover, said lover – and herself – were potentially about to face prison time.

It was too much.

Her stomach churned again. And again. And again.

It hurt!

It hurt so much!

So much so, in fact, that Nonoka hadn’t realized she was torn between screaming in pain and hysterical sobbing as she collapsed to the ground. Or the fact that, even as Hiro remained rooted to his spot in shock, the boss was calling out to her and began calling for someone. Or the fact that a significant amount of blood was beginning to accumulate under her.

She didn’t realize much right up until her consciousness left her and she was soon immersed in pitch black.

Miscarriage.

That was the clinical term she’d been given by her doctors when she’d woken up hours later. She’d apparently suffered a severe miscarriage brought upon by severe stress, ending up with the loss of her fetus. They’d tried to save it, but it was still too underdeveloped to survive on its own and passed away during the attempt.

Hiro was nowhere to be found.

According to what a sympathetic nurse told her, he’d been taken away by police at the scene over charges of sexual misconduct, public indecency, other charges. Based on the evidence Nonoka knew the owner had, she wasn’t likely to see him ever again as a free man.

No one else came to visit.

Not her parents – they’d disowned her the moment she’d been knocked up by Hiro.

Not her former classmates – they’d basically cut her off once she dropped out and word about her relationship with her boss at her unauthorized part-time job had come to light.

No one.

Despite being a minor, the moment she’d dropped out of school, she’d entered a fuzzy legal gray area where she was neither an adult nor a minor – but rather something in between where she didn’t qualify for social services, but also fell within the legal regulations for minors. So, full-time employment was off the table for now.

Hell, she didn’t even have a high-school diploma! So even if it wasn’t off the table, who’d hire her as a full-time employee?! A minor who’d soon gain a record for having engaged in sexual misconduct in a public setting at the workplace!

She chuckled tearily as she grasped her covers, her usual, vibrant personality reduced to mere cold embers. Her life was ruined. Wholly ruined.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

Part of her wanted to blame Matsubara – she was sure he’d filed the complaint that got the owner to actually look at the security footage for once. But, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he wouldn’t have if she’d just approached things differently.

Hell, she could’ve just rejected him politely and kept the sordid details of her relationship with Hiro under wraps. She could’ve just reminded Hiro that they were at risk of losing their jobs if he continued with his insane fetish to fuck at work!

But she hadn’t. Part of her had been too turned on to resist.

And it had finally caught up with them.

Hell, the more she thought about her actions – her mind cleared up of Hiro’s constant presence and the non-stop sexual activity – the more she realized how much she’d screwed up her life. Dropping out of school for some dead-beat? Getting pregnant as a minor? Rejecting a decent guy in favor of a monkey whose only good point had been being good at sex?

She hadn’t realized she’d been sobbing and screaming hysterically until after the doctor and nurses sedated her.

The day she’d left juvenile detention, Nonoka promised herself to do better.

As she’d expected four years ago, she’d been charged with Hiro for their actions at the store. Because of her age, however, she was treated as a minor who’d been corrupted by an adult, so the court agreed to show lenience and merely remanded her to a minimum security juvenile detention facility until she turned 20, after which her record would be sealed and she would be released.

Her lover did not get the same leniency and would be in prison for quite a few more years.

Not that she intended to wait for him. Losing her future because of him had somewhat disabused her of the notion of being in love with him.

The trial had been quite the eye-opener for her. Matsubara had, as she’d thought, testified against them and confirmed he’d been the one to file the complaint. Hiro’s attorney had tried to paint him as a jealous, vindictive person who’d acted maliciously after being rejected by Nonoka, but no amount of such character assassination could undo the CCTV footage the prosecution had then provided – especially the look of utter devastation on Matsubara’s face when Hiro was molesting her in front of him.

But their case was even more lost when she was summoned to testify…and chose not to defend herself or Hiro. As she’d done with Matsubara that cruel day, she related everything. Every detail of her relationship with Hiro. From the day he confessed and took her virginity, to the nitty gritty details of their fateful summer vacation outing together. She confessed to how she’d helped Hiro fool the owner and confirmed that Hiro was aware of her age when they’d begun dating.

The bailiff had to stop Hiro from throttling her on the spot, but the damage was done.

She didn’t see Matsubara again before being sent to juvie, but she didn’t need to. The way he’d looked at the stand, testifying against her and Hiro, had told her enough. In the video, he’d been devastated. The boy on the stand was composed and collected.

He’d moved on.

Even now, years later, that left a bittersweet feeling in her heart.

Still, as she’d vowed to herself, she wasn’t going to let Hiro’s actions and her decisions keep her down.

The first thing she did was go to her parents’ house and apologized for her actions. She did not ask for their forgiveness, did not ask to be taken back into the family, nothing. Years of regret and self-recrimination had done a number on her self-esteem, regardless of her decision to move on with her life. Nor did her family seem all that interested in bringing her back into the fold…though they did stiffly accept her apology.

With that, she reached out to an NGO one of her juvie mates had told her about that helped released kids find work and housing. She knew there were quite a few running around, but many of them turned out to be scams or fronts for black companies or criminal groups looking for recidivists. The one she’d been recommended was one of the few good ones.

They helped her take the tests to get her GDE, set her up in an affordable one-room apartment, and even assigned her a case worker as she sought employment.

Understandably, Nonoka opted to avoid convenience stores moving forward given her experience with Hiro.

Instead, she found work as a contract janitor for a commercial janitorial services company. It didn’t require advanced university degrees or extensive prior experience, it was based on a shift schedule, and virtually all of her shift colleagues – by coincidence or design – were women!

At first, she did find it hard to integrate into her colleagues’ social circle given her past as a juvenile delinquent, but over the months after joining, she gradually convinced them that she was truly repentant and trying to be better.

That effort eventually bore fruit when one of them – Kaori, a single mother whose husband had passed away, invited her to live with her and her young daughter. Ostensibly, on the grounds that it would be financially helpful for both of them, especially since Kaori couldn’t afford the bills on her apartment after her husband passed away, but also because, as Kaori put it,

“Everyone needs a second chance, right?”

Yes. Life was hard now, but if she kept at it, she knew she could rise above her past. The memories of what she’d done to Matsubara, what she’d done with Hori…all of that would fade, while her future lay ahead, ready to bloom.

Chapter 30: What Do You Think?

Chapter Text

“Ha~ruki”

Hate.

“So? What do you think?”

Rage.

A giggle from Akane.

A tear from Sachie.

Despair.

“Haruki, let’s all do it together!”

Fury.

His fists curled on his lap. A bulge in his pants. An erection? No.

A pencil.

It was like he was on autopilot at that point as he stared at his bastard of an ex-friend’s raging boner. Twice. Twice he’d been made a fool of. Twice, he’d been betrayed by his friends.

No. Never again.

A closed fist lashed out.

WHAM

Akane gasped as she fell on the ground, a massive welt and bruise already forming on her face from the impact of his fist. Sachie – that backstabbing whore! – shrieked in fear as Udo just stood there, dumb as bricks as always, unable to process what was happening.

Good enough of an opening.

His free hand shot into his pants and drew the sharpened pencil and, without anymore hesitation, letting pure instinct drive him, he drove its sharpened edge into the side of Udo’s boner.

The idiot howled in pain at the low-blow and fell to the ground. Not letting him recover, Haruki was on him in a flash. Roughly pulling out the pencil from his now profusely bleeding member, Haruki straddled Udo’s chest and plunged it over and over again into his former friend’s chest, neck, and face with a brutality he never knew he had.

“DIE!” he roared at his now-gurgling ex-friend, who jerked and thrashed under the continuous assault. “DIE! DIE! DIE!”

He didn’t know how long he sat there on Udo’s chest, stabbing at him, but it felt like hours. In truth, it was most likely just a couple of minutes.

But regardless of the time, the damage was done.

Udo was dead.

One of his blows had apparently nicked the larger boy in the carotid, and without immediate attempts to stem the blood flow, he bled out in less than a minute – especially considering his previous state of arousal and the damage done to those blood vessels as well.

Huffing and panting in exertion, Haruki slowly got up from atop Udo, his knees almost giving out and his legs weak, and stood there, admiring – for better or worse – his work.

And then a whimper caught his attention.

He glanced over and saw Sachie holding a bruised, but equally terrified Akane as they both regarded him with abject terror. A wild look remained in his eyes as he stood there, splattered in their dead friend/lover’s blood, making for a truly fearsome look right now.

Compounded, perhaps, by the bloodied pencil in his hand.

Udo was dead.

He’d killed him.

…but he hadn’t been the only one to betray his trust. To make a fool of him.

These two had, as well.

Their whimpering intensified, stoking his rage – how dare they behave this way after what they’d done to him?

“P-Please…Haruki…don’t…!”

“H-Ha…wu…ki…”

He took a step towards them, ignoring their begging.

“We…we didn’t mean to do this!”

“He made us!”

He ignored them and took another step, his pencil rising again.

“He raped us, Haruki! We had no choice!”

“P-Please, Ha-wu-ki!”

“Haruki. Stop.”

He paused at last. Turning, he saw his three remaining friends. Yume, Kaede, and Yuri.

Yuri and Yume looked sick and fearful.

Kaede looked…pitying.

He didn’t know which was worse.

The pencil never left his grip, though.

“I…have to,” he said through gritted teeth. “They…betrayed me. Betrayed all of us!”

“That’s not true!” Sachie yelled. “We…Udo raped us! Convinced us we should all—”

“Have sex with each other?” Kaede asked flatly. Just saying it out loud certainly brought out just how dumb the idea was. She sighed before turning to Yuri and Yume. “Close the door.”

“Close the…Are you serious?!” Yume demanded. “Kaede, Haruki killed Udo! We need to—”

“Call the cops?” Kaede interjected. “Look in front of you. What do you see?”

The two girls paused at Kaede’s suggestion and looked around. Sachie was naked and still dripping with sweat and what could only be semen. Akane had a vicious bruise on her cheek, and Udo was dead on the ground, naked and bleeding all over.

“Haruki obviously walked in on them and—”

“No,” Yuri interjected, cutting off Yume and narrowing her eyes at the two girls by Haruki. “You two lured him here, didn’t you?”

The two girls’ flinches spoke volumes.

Yume turned to look at her. “What? How could you possibly tell?!”

“If Haruki had just caught them having sex, this wouldn’t have happened all the way over there, and Udo’s much bigger than Haruki. He wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. So the only way this happens if it was a complete surprise,” Yuri reasoned. “And Haruki’s not predisposed to violence, so he had to have been incited. Combined with the weird vibe that’s been going on between Haruki, Udo, Akane, and most recently, Sachie, it stands to reason that Udo made a move on Akane, then on Sachie.”

She looked over at Kaede. “Was that your thinking?”

Kaede nodded.

Yuri nodded back before turning to Yume. “So the only way this happens, reasonably, is if Haruki was lured here under false pretenses, then ambushed by these three. And you heard them just now – they intended to lure us all into having sex with Udo. Put it all together and you get the picture.”

Yume paled in disgust at the thought before snapping her eyes over to the two terrified girls.

“Is that true? Were we next?” she demanded.

Sachie averted her gaze, while Akane got a wild look in her eyes.

“You would’ve loved it! I promise! Udo was amazing at—”

“Rape,” Kaede interjected. “Udo was a rapist.”

She stepped forward towards Haruki, coming right up to him without fear despite his bloodied appearance and the pencil in his hand.

“And you saved us,” she declared, her eyes briefly glancing down at Akane and Sachie. “From them.”

Haruki swallowed.

“I…I couldn’t…”

Kaede smiled as she raised her hands and brought him in for a hug, ignoring the blood stains that would create. “I know,” she assured him. “I know.”

Click.

“Yume! Yuri! Are you two serious?! You closed the door?!” Akane yelled. “Call the cops!”

“Kaede’s right,” Yuri retorted calmly. “If Haruki hadn’t put an end to that monster, we would’ve been his next victims. And that’s a thought I never want to entertain.”

“Ditto,” Yume agreed with a shiver. “I thought he was a nice dude, but…”

“Haruki killed Udo! Our friend! He needs to pay!”

“No.”

All eyes turned to Kaede as she continued to hug Haruki, gently stroking his back comfortingly. The pencil was now on a nearby desk, having successfully coaxed it out of his grip.

“Udo was a criminal and he got what he deserved,” she declared. “And Haruki saved us from a fate worse than death. So we’re going to save him right back.”

Her eyes fell on the two cowering girls. No warmth remained in her eyes. No compassion. Just pure coldness and a promise of unspeakable violence as only a martial artist could deliver.

“And you two’ll cooperate, or else.”

Kaede’s plan was simple, but effective.

Udo’s death was to be reported to the authorities, but the narrative would be altered. Akane and Sachie would accuse the deceased Udo of rape – which he had committed against them – and Haruki would be painted as their saviour who came across Udo raping Sachie and, in the subsequent confrontation, killed him in self-defense. Yuri, Yume, and Kaede would serve as witnesses to the fact, and Akane would firmly place the blame for her bruise on Udo.

When Akane refused to cooperate initially, Kaede simply informed her that if Haruki went to prison, she’d not live to see graduation. When Sachie was confronted by Akane to speak up against Haruki as well, a simple glance at Udo’s corpse and Haruki’s bloodied appearance was enough to get her to consent.

Even then, Akane resisted – evidently, her own experience with Udo had thoroughly broken her mind, such that she could no longer fitfully reconcile the fiction she had concocted to cope with her assault with reality. In her mind, her relationship with Udo, his relationship with Sachie, his plans to go after the other girls, to mentally torment Haruki into joining them in some fucked up, non-consensual polyamory – all of this had to be consensual. There was no other explanation for it. Because if it wasn’t…

If it wasn’t…

Then she was simply a rape victim.

She’d been raped by her friend.

And facilitated his rape of another friend.

And tormented her actual love and childhood friend with this carnival of sexual abuse.

Twice.

The psychological dissonance broke her.

In the end, Akane did not testify against Udo or Haruki – between her hysterical sobbing, empty stares into the middle-distance, and bouts of catatonia, she was deemed incapable of giving reliable testimony, so Sachie became the only viable witness of the act itself, while the three other girls served as witnesses to the aftermath and Haruki’s character.

From a police and prosecutorial perspective, it was a done deal at that point.

The suspect, Udo, was dead, and the evidence at the scene was sufficient to lend weight to the testimonies of Sachie, Haruki, Yume, Yuri, and Kaede even without Akane’s input. Interviews with the teachers and other classmates further enhanced their case, as Udo was quickly recognized as having exhibited problematic tendencies with regards to social cues and overall intelligence, and a search of his computer and browsing history revealed a truly disturbing amount of rape-based pornography and purchases for materials and goods consistent with an intent to commit sexual assault.

Case closed.

Udo’s parents, shamed by the findings, quickly pretended he never existed, put up no defence of their son, and moved away.

They were not alone.

Sachie, too, transferred out as soon as she could once the case was functionally over. Last the group had heard, her father had put in for an overseas assignment and taken his family with him. The last thing they’d heard from her was a parting SMS the day the family flew out of the country, saying simply, “Sorry. Goodbye.”

Akane, for her part, had to be pulled out of school so she could undergo hospitalization and therapy. While Kaede wasn’t entirely satisfied with the victim treatment Akane was getting, she acknowledged that, technically, she was a victim – even though she’d then become complicit.

As for Haruki, Kaede, Yuri, and Yume…life went on.

Haruki ended up lauded by his peers and teachers for protecting his friends and putting a stop to a serial rapist – even as the school came under heavy flak for even allowing such a situation to take place. Whatever popularity he had previously enjoyed drastically ballooned thereafter, though – perhaps driven a bit by his own guilt and shame at killing another person – he never allowed himself to preen over it or to be rewarded.

At most, when he was honored in a school assembly, he simply acknowledged the honor with a bow and said, “thank you,” before moving off the stage.

For the four remaining friends, the ordeal with Udo, Sachie, and Akane had tested their bonds to the breaking point. Akane had been sort of the life of the group before – with Haruki acting as their moral center, Sachie as the fun-loving, world-weary gal; Yume as a mass of bubbly energy; Yuri as the intellectual among the friends; Kaede as the tomboy of the group; and Udo…Udo as the pity case.

And because of that pity case, they’d lost two of their friends.

Faced with this loss, the four had to reconcile how much they trusted each other and would back each other up.

Kaede made up her mind immediately. Yuri followed suit shortly after.

Yume took a couple of weeks – an awkward time for the four friends as they remained unsure whether she was breaking ties or not. When she came ‘round, all four of them breathed a sigh of relief.

And Haruki…Haruki was just grateful to have them with him.

Their closeness so endured and grew that, shortly before graduation, Haruki proposed they move in together after they graduate. He had no close male friends – and refused to moving forward unless the girls vetted them first – and genuinely did not want their group to split up.

Kaede was a bit embarrassed, but agreed. Yuri agreed nonchalantly, as though it were no big deal. Yume, again, hesitated the most out of the four, but agreed within the day. But, of course, this meant having to align their post-graduation plans. Did any of them want to go overseas for college or work? Where would they live? Did they want to remain in this city? Etc…

But, as with all growing relationships, such discussions – tempered by their shared experience in school – came and went without muss or fuss. Out of the group, Yuri was the only one with the academics needed to go abroad, and she preferred to stay in the country. Kaede had her martial arts commitments and could’ve applied for a sports scholarship, but opted to develop herself in Japan as well. As the average rankers, Yume and Haruki had always assumed they’d stay in the country as well.

Planning such a future together ultimately proved to be quite fun for the foursome as they put their heads together, Yuri acting as secretary, to plan out their shared adulthood. Kaede liked the romance of living in a mountain town. Yuri wanted quick access to the internet and libraries – as well as easy commutes to university. Yume wanted someplace where they could have easy access to fun, group activities…

And Haruki was content to just be with them.

“You really came.”

“I really did,” Kaede agreed as she took a seat across from the woman already seated at the table. “Just like I said I would.”

A snort.

“Scared I might talk?”

Kaede smiled calmly. “No. I knew you wouldn’t…and won’t.”

“Why not? You did threaten me way back when. Who knows? I might hold a grudge.”

“Then you would’ve spoken up a while ago,” Kaede replied as she dug into her purse and brought out four sealed envelopes and placed them on the table. “From me and the others.”

“Keep ‘em. I don’t need to read them.”

Kaede cocked her head sideways. “You always say that, yet you take them in the end every time.”

The woman growled softly before snatching the envelopes, just as Kaede knew she would.

“Why bother?” she asked.

Kaede smiled. “It took a while for us to come to terms with everything that happened – myself more than the others, I admit, but we finally came to terms with the fact that no matter how heinous you behaved, you were a victim. His first one. And no one came to save you.”

Akane side-eyed Kaede for a moment before looking down at the envelopes clutched in her hands.

“Should I be expecting words of forgiveness?” she asked flatly.

“Perhaps,” Kaede said noncommittally. “We each wrote our letters confidentially. I don’t know what the others wrote.”

“But yours hasn’t got any.”

“No. As far as I’m concerned, my conscience is clear.”

Another snort. “Must be nice,” Akane said before tucking them away in her jeans pocket. She eyed Kaede’s hands. “I see you got hitched.”

“We all did.”

“That’s a crime.”

“Only if we registered with the authorities,” Kaede clarified with a fond smile as she looked down at her ring. “We’re happy with our current arrangement.”

Akane’s smile was bitter. “Quite the relationship. Makes me nostalgic.”

“Are you about to defend Udo, Akane?”

Akane snorted. “No,” she replied flatly. “It took a while, so I guess some of that therapy junk got through, but I see him for the monster he was, and the monster I was becoming because of him,” she said. “But the parallels are eye-catching.”

“Except Haruki never coerced us into anything,” Kaede pointed out calmly. “I mean, I don’t think I can think of a single time he’s even raised his voice at us.”

“You’re lucky, then,” Akane said grimly. “You all are. I know you don’t like me still because of everything, Kaede, and I get that. No hard feelings. But I sincerely hope you never learn what it’s like for your partner to be violent, beastly, and willing to treat you like a masturbatory toy. I mean that."

“I know, and I appreciate that. We all do.”

There was a brief pause before Kaede, playing with her fingers, spoke up again. “Have you heard from Sachie?”

“A couple of times,” Akane said, glancing down at the envelopes sticking out of her jeans. “She moved to Europe. Decided to become a nun.”

Kaede’s eyes widened a fair bit. “A nun?”

Akane shrugged. “She said she converted and was trying to find forgiveness. I think she got assigned to a convent’s orphanage.”

That was unexpected of Sachie – the dyed-blonde gal who’d been far more worldly than the rest of them and always up for some fun. Yet, at the same time, Kaede figured she could understand to some degree where her other former friend was coming from, and privately wished her the best.

“That’s surprising, but noble of her.”

Akane shrugged. “We each had our own way to cope.”

Kaede replied with a nod before perking up. “Oh, before I forget – I was asked to show you some pictures!”

She pulled out her phone, ignoring her former friend’s grumbling, and quickly pulled up the album, smiling lovingly at the pictures of her children with Haruki – both her own and those she shared with Yume and Yuri. Their home was truly a zoo at times – full of screaming, energetic children and calm, artistic, introverted children alike.

She loved them all equally.

There was no malice in her actions as she showed Akane the album, and she saw that her former friend took none, either. Yume, Yuri, and Haruki had all agreed that even with Akane functionally out of their lives, she deserved some closure. They’d learned that Akane’s therapy had largely involved dealing with her immense guilt over how Udo had changed her, and to her credit, had dealt with her post-assault hypersexuality by going cold turkey in a regimen deemed incredibly self-punishing by her own doctors.

As far as Kaede and the others knew, Akane had since then remained completely celibate. Haruki and Yuri argued that it was likely meant to not just avoid triggering her trauma, but also as a form of self-flagellation. That had been enough to convince Yume and Kaede to help her gain closure.

“They look happy,” Akane noted softly as she scrolled through the vast library of pictures of the unconventional family’s children. “Though, you all have my respect for choosing to have six kids.”

“It’s easier when you coparent, we found,” Kaede said with an embarrassed chuckle. “Since we alternate date nights, there’s always two mamas on hand, and when it’s girls’ night, daddy stays behind. And we share chores and parent meetings. Haruki works from home most days anyway, so it balances out.”

Honestly, it was a bit sad.

Looking back, there was a serious chance that none of Kaede’s present happiness would’ve occurred – or would’ve occurred under different circumstances. At the time of Akane’s assault, Haruki had been a one-woman show, and his eyes had been fixed on Akane. Losing her to Udo, which at the time he’d believed was consensual, had driven him to Sachie. Only to lose her, too.

Only then had he opened his heart to the possibility of other women.

It hadn’t been a simple process – and for the longest time, she, Yuri, and Yume had assumed Haruki would just end up choosing one of them (or someone else entirely) and the others would move out.

Instead, he embraced them all. He’d lost so much to Udo already that he simply refused to let go of any of them, made an impassioned plea, and, whether shamefully or romantically, she, Yuri, and Yume had accepted his feelings.

Yet, at one point, her ring would’ve been worn by Akane. Alternatively, Akane might’ve been with them from the start – and their household would’ve had even more joyous children running around!

Or maybe, if Udo had chosen differently, it might’ve been Akane seated where she was, and Kaede on the other side – bitterly regretting everything. Or perhaps it would’ve been Yume, or Yuri.

The thought disgusted and terrified her.

So, for now, she contented herself with the knowledge that the monster called Udo was no longer around to terrorize her loved ones. That, even if one step at a time, his victims were beginning to find their own ways to move on from the horror he’d inflicted on them.

And that, whatever came next, she had her family to love her, support her, and if need be, save her…

Just as she, Yume, and Yuri had saved Haruki that fateful day.