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“I’ve… I’ve never seen Shizume-senpai like this…” Chiyoko murmured as she and Shun stepped out of the classroom.

“Almost like it’s… not even him anymore!” She shivered, her voice trembling. “Shun-senpai, let’s go see Hyiocchi!”

“Huh…? And do what?” Shun tilted his head.

“Isn’t it obvious!? We tell her to come back!” Chiyoko nearly shouted. “If she doesn’t, Shizume-senpai will—he might get even worse…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away.

“Huh… I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, Chiyoko-chan. That’d be pushing it—”

“AND SHIZUME-SENPAI ISN’T PUSHING IT ALREADY!? I…” she muttered. “It hurts me… seeing him like that.” She swallowed her tears.

“…I guess we should at least ask why she left.” Shun scratched his head.

“Y-YES! Let’s do that, then!” Chiyoko brightened. “She must be in her clubroom, right?”

“…Oh.” Shun gulped. That meant stepping into that room—the Disciplinary Committee’s den, filled with unfamiliar faces… and Shiyon.

“Uh… Couldn’t we just call her?” he tried.

“NO!” Chiyoko snapped. “IT WON’T BE EFFECTIVE LIKE THAT!”

“Effective…? Are you serious right now…” Shun sighed. “…Fine. Just to talk to her, then.”

=======================

“Who is this?” Riko muttered, eyeing the unknown number as she answered. “And I swear, if the first thing I hear is ‘Would you be interested in—’ I’m hanging up.” She sighed, leaning against the wall outside.

“Riko Takashima, right?” came a muffled voice.

“…How do you know my name?” Her eyes narrowed. She subtly gulped.

“You’re good at hiding fear. Good. Listen closely.”

The voice dropped an octave. “From what I gathered, a Disciplinary Committee member called you out behind the school, right? Use those acting skills and find a way to turn him down.”

“…You’re stalking me.” Her voice trembled. “S-stalking won’t help you, you hear?! My boyfriend knows boxing!”

A quiet chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“I’m sure he’s formidable. But threatening you isn’t why I called. Listen—there’s reason to believe a new kind of drug is circulating in the school. A new branch.”

“…What?”

“Those new members Shiyon Michaels brought into INK Public School… they’re the testers. The drug alters your perception of intimacy—toward other men… or anyone, really.”

She wiped sweat from her brow.

“This… This is just a prank! You think you’re being clever, huh? Shiyon-san cares about everyone here. I vouch for him. If he picked those people, I trust them—even if they do have… an uncomfortable air about them.”

The voice paused, then softened.

“You sound confident. Level-headed. Good. Then go—go to that Disciplinary Committee member who barely knows you, who called you out here. Alone.”

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? Then you know I’m council president. It’s normal for the committee to talk to me! You’re just full of shit!” she growled.

“…Then why haven’t you hung up yet?” the voice asked.

Riko clenched her teeth.

“…Fuck you. This isn’t that kind of school anymore. Don’t underestimate us… And if you call me again…” She seethed.

And with that, she ended the call.

Yet the voice’s warning echoed in her mind as she turned the corner, approaching the Disciplinary Committee member who had summoned her. He stood at least three heads taller, looming casually with one hand still stuffed in his pocket.

She gulped.

“Sorry. Had a call,” she said, keeping a reluctant distance between them.

‘…She’s wary,’ he noted, clicking his tongue. His fingers twitched inside his pocket.

‘Tsk. Sharp one, huh.’

“What?” he chuckled, stepping forward. “Scared I’ll bite?”

“Well… with all due respect, I don’t really know you.” She cleared her throat, steadying her voice.

“Anyway, what did you want to discuss—”

“Man, no wonder Aniki called us in,” he cut her off with a sigh. “You students really forgot your place, huh? Undermining the Disciplinary Committee. Disrespecting your senpai. That’s the kind of thing I wanted to talk to you about, President.”

He took another step forward.

“I’m Yuji. Graduate of Gray Stamp Public. Transferred here by Aniki’s request. You’re the student council president, right? Spokesperson for all these nervous little kids. You’ve probably noticed how uneasy they are around us.” He gave a lazy shrug. “Even though we literally get paid to tour and protect them…”

“….”

Riko tightened her grip on her sleeve. “…You are unfamiliar faces, after all.”

She flicked a glance at his pocket — his hand hadn’t moved.

She stepped back.

‘Tsk… This bitch is sharper than she looks,’ Yuji thought, his smile tightening as he moved in again.

“I guess you’re right. Not much we can do about that,” he said with a casual laugh, closing the distance even more.

“I see…” she muttered, her voice forced and thin. “In that case, I’ll be on my way. I just remembered—my boyfriend’s waiting for me.”

She turned, trying to walk away.

But from the corner, another figure stepped out — a tall girl wearing the same Disciplinary Committee armband.

Riko barely registered her before—

BAM.

She was grabbed and yanked backward, arms pinned behind her.

“…!!!”

Riko froze, her breath caught in her throat as Yuji stepped closer.

“HEY—LET GO OF ME—!” she thrashed, but the girl behind her hissed in her ear, cold and quiet:

“If you shout, we kill your boyfriend.”

Her body went stiff. Eyes wide.

Yuji loomed, his shadow stretching toward her.

“Y… You’re a girl..!” Riko gasped. “Why… Why are you doing this?!”

“Don’t take it personally. A job’s a job.” The girl’s voice was clinical—emotionless.

‘She’s strong…’

Riko winced, struggling against the grip, but the girl behind her didn’t budge.

She was tall. Toned. Built. ‘Shun…! S-save me…!’

Her arms were pinned tighter, wrists bending uncomfortably.

Yuji approached with a lazy gait, pulling a small bag from his pocket.

A faint dust shimmered within.

“Calling for your boyfriend, huh?” he chuckled.

“I know that guy. Looked like a bitch. Say… even if he showed up right now, think he’d actually stop us?”

He crouched, cracking the bag open slightly.

“Soon enough,” he said with a grin, “you won’t care about him anyway.”

Riko’s eyes locked on the bag. Her stomach churned.

‘That’s it.’

‘That’s the drug the voice warned me about.’

“Hey, Yuji—make sure I don’t breathe in that shit,” the girl muttered, still holding Riko in place, utterly disinterested.

“Wouldn’t touch you with a stick anyway,” he smirked.

“Dick.” They bantered casually.

Like it was just another Tuesday.

Right before drugging her.

Yuji raised the bag—just a few inches from her face.

‘NO…!! SHUN…!!’

“Riko-CHYAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN~ You here…?”

A voice rang out—exaggerated, loud, and unmistakably familiar.

Her eyes lit up.

‘That voice…!’

‘Sakurai…!’

The two aggressors immediately let her go and stepped back.

“Fuck,” Yuji muttered. “It’s a bust…” He sighed.

“No matter,” the girl said, leaning in close one last time.

“Remember,” she whispered coldly, “any word of this—and your boyfriend, along with your family, gets the brunt.”

With that, the two turned and walked off.

They emerged from the corner, heading toward the voice with casual frustration written on their faces.

As they passed him—

“H-huh? What are you two esteemed senpais doing out he—” Yuuto began, only to be bumped hard by Yuji without a word.

The girl glanced back at him briefly.

‘…He’s kinda cute.’

‘Never seen him before.’ She shrugged and moved on.

‘Hmph,’ Yuuto exhaled, rounding the corner to find Riko standing there with her back turned to him.

“Ah, Cuckold-Maker,” he called out, approaching her. “Cuck wanted me to look for you—”

She bumped into him without warning, burying her face into his shirt.

“…” Yuuto looked down at her, unmoving, as her sobs shook through his clothes.

“Not sure what happened,” he muttered, “but you should be careful. A shoulder to cry on becomes a dick to ride on. Nothing you’re unfamiliar with, but still—”

“Shut up… God… Just shut the fuck up…” she sobbed, gripping his shirt.

“Just… shut the fuck up for a minute… please…”

She trembled. Sniffling. Clutching tighter.

‘…’

Yuuto stood still.

Letting her cry, unchallenged, into his shirt.

A few minutes passed.

Yuuto said nothing.

He simply stood there, letting his gaze wander while her cries filled the silence — soaking into his shirt.

Eventually, Riko stepped back with a sniffle, eyes lowered.

“You’re… Sniffle… not used to this, huh?” she mumbled, her voice trembling.

“…” Yuuto glanced at her.

“Do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it?”

“Reassuring someone,” she clarified softly.

“Usually there’s… a pat on the back or something.”

Her lips tightened.

“I need… like, a thousand of those.”

“….”

She gave a weak, shivering chuckle.

“Might’ve even… orgasmed from it, or something.”

She looked away, embarrassed.

Yuuto narrowed his eyes, confused.

‘…What the fuck is wrong with—’

‘…Oh.’

A memory surfaced:

======= CHAPTER 1 ============

“…Ah… I…. A-… A pat on the b-back c-c-can be considered sexual assault, s-so you’re s-saying you would rather g-g-get rap-ed…” Yuuto mumbled.

“Haha, what the hell was that pathetic attempt? You know what, I allow you to write it as a script for your doujin artist friend, I’m actually really interested in seeing a girl moaning from getting a pat on the back.” Riko added while laughing menacingly.

=============================

“Pfft.” Yuuto let out a short chuckle.

She looked up at him.

It wasn’t the usual mocking glare.

“I’ll admit,” he said, glancing away with a half-smirk, “that was a good one, cuckold-maker.”

He exhaled through his nose, eyes drifting skyward as a second laugh escaped him.

For some reason — just for a moment — Yuuto didn’t feel like the weirdo from her classroom.

He looked like a normal person.

“…Just…” Riko muttered, lowering her head.

“Thanks for coming when you did, Sakurai.”

Her lips tightened. She was trying not to cry again.

“Thanks… really.”

She cleared her throat.

“You were the one who called and warned me, right?”

Yuuto raised an eyebrow.

“…Ah? You take me for your admirer or something?”

“…Oh… No. Never mind.” She shook her head, flustered.

“Alright.” Yuuto nodded, the blank expression settling back over his face like armor.

“Anyway. Cuck’s looking for you.” He turned around, starting to walk away.

“Huh…” she let out with a weak sniffle.

“Didn’t take you for his — or really, anyone’s — errand boy.”

“Well,” Yuuto shrugged as he walked away, “he’s kinda scary. Those new boxing techniques terrify me.”

Riko chuckled at that.

“Dumbass,” she muttered, covering her mouth as she laughed.

Yuuto kept walking. But just before disappearing around the corner—

“Aren’t…” Riko called out, stopping him, “…aren’t you gonna ask?”

He turned slightly.

“Ask what?”

“…Why I was crying like that.”

“…You didn’t tell me,” he replied simply. “Figured there’s no reason to pry.”

She frowned. Bit her lip.

“…Why? Maybe you actually do know what happened and don’t need an explanation after all?”

“No.” Yuuto gave a casual stretch.

“Spoiler alert, I’m not that interested in what’s going on with your life. Thought I made that clear this year. And…”

His tone then softened, “I just think you’re smart enough to decide whether to tell anyone or not.”

He half-faced her — that same unreadable expression, as always.

She exhaled, barely above a whisper.

“Ah… I…”

“I see.”

“…Don’t let it get to your head,” Yuuto added. “This is the only piece of praise from me you’re ever gonna get.”

And with that, he vanished around the corner.

“YOU STILL GAVE ME PRAISE, SAKURAI!” Riko shouted after him. “I’LL TELL EVERYONE YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON ME!”

“I’LL KILL YOU AND THEN MYSELF IF YOU DO THAT, CUCKOLD-MAKER!” came his voice from around the bend.

Riko laughed again.

‘Now then…’ Yuuto thought, slipping his hand into his pocket.

From it, he pulled the small, clear bag—the one he’d swiped from Yuji when they brushed past.

The white powder shimmered faintly in the light.

‘Organ Harvester…’ Yuuto narrowed his eyes as he stepped into the school.

‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’

Minoru stood in front of Yuuto’s door.

His hand hovered, hesitating just before knocking.

‘…’

===== EARLIER — AFTER YUUTO KILLED ALL THE BLACK LETTER MEMBERS =====

“…Best if you don’t see him, Minoru,” Seichiro’s voice echoed, calm but distant as he took another puff from his cigarette. “Your father agrees with me. Listen to us adults.”

“Why’s that…? He’s… he’s my senpai.” Minoru wheezed, half-conscious, bloodied, slumped in the passenger seat of Seichiro’s car.

“…I tried talking to him myself,” Seichiro muttered. “He’s… messed up in the head.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“Sakura…” Minoru gulped. “She’s a smart… girl…” he gasped, “…She wouldn’t have—”

Seichiro said nothing. Just took another drag as Minoru struggled to speak.

“…opened up to him if he was unwell.” Minoru finished, voice rasping. “I trust her judgment… even if she’s impulsive… sometimes…”

“I get it,” Seichiro said. “Still—don’t go near him.”

A long silence filled the car. The soft hum of the engine. The faint sound of rain tapping the roof.

Seichiro exhaled and looked out the window.

“The reason I put him in INK…” he began.

Minoru, barely conscious, blinked and glanced toward him.

“…is because it’s a place full of misfits. Outcasts. It was also a friend’s school—someone I trust. Someone who recently reformed it.”

His grip on the wheel trembled.

He stopped talking. Minoru waited. It felt like a lesson was coming.

But it didn’t.

Just a gulp.

“…I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance,” Seichiro whispered. “I thought he’d stay in that state forever. That hollow, broken thing I left behind.”

A faint sniffle escaped him.

“I should be grateful he’s walking. Talking. Even our doctors said that kind of recovery was impossible. No one knows how the hell he came back from that.”

His voice cracked. “My boy’s actually alive. He’s here. But…”

Minoru tried to shift—tried to see his face. But his vision was too blurred.

“…But he’s someone else now.” Another sniffle. Seichiro cleared his throat.

“He doesn’t know who I am.”

Then, quietly—firmly:

“Just… don’t, Minoru. Watch over your sister. Even with your father there, you’re her last line of defense.”

“Keep her safe.”

===== BACK TO THE PRESENT =====

Minoru looked down.”…Alright.”

He sighed, returned home, and sat at his desk. His fingers moved on muscle memory, opening a browser and logging into a doujin website.

His account: Artist. He navigated to the moderator list.

There it was. “NotYuuto.”

He clicked the name, entering the private chatroom.

MINOMINO (Minoru): [Hey. You… run that Anti-NTR website, right?]

ENTER.

A reply came almost immediately.

[Oh? I thought it was stupid and retarded?] NotYuuto replied.

[Don’t get smart with me,] MINOMINO shot back. [Or I’ll revoke your admin privileges.]

[…Sorry. What do you want?]

[A commission,] Minoru typed. [Anti-NTR themed. What’s your rate again?]

[10,000 yen per case.]

[You won’t have to pay me for a month if you take this one.] MINOMINO wrote.

There was a pause.

[…Alright. What do you need?]

[A friend of a friend of a friend. INK Public School. I think she’s being drugged… That’s near your area, right?]

[Name?] came Yuuto’s reply — quick, clean, detached.

Minoru smirked faintly.

‘You really became Yuuto, huh?’

[Kiriko Ayano. Second-year.]

[Alright. Job accepted.]

————- NOTE ————-

At the beginning of the story, Yuuto mentioned he had paid an artist on a doujin website in exchange for admin privileges—just in case someone ever stumbled upon his scenario pages.

——————————

Yuuto sighed deeply.

‘Kiriko…? She’s the one I saved a while back… I see. So she’s being targeted again.’

He exhaled as he stood up.

‘Well. Afosterdamus always said that stretching an injured body makes it heal faster.’

Author’s Note: NO SUCH PERSON EXISTS! AND NO ONE SAID ANYTHING LIKE THAT! Don’t take Yuuto’s advice!

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” he smirked.

“Let’s get to work.”

———————–

A bit later…

Sato walked down the hallway, headed toward the clubroom, when Sendo came running up behind him.

“Senpai! Senpai!”

“Ah, Sendo-kun! What’s up?” Sato turned with a smile.

“I… I did what ya said…” Sendo huffed, catching his breath. “Told Mina I won’t be doing Kendo as much anymore. And she was cool with it! We’re back together!”

He scratched the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly.

“Sounds like you have every reason to be happy, Sendo-kun. That’s great.”

Sato reached up and gave his tall kouhai a pat on the shoulder.

“I’m proud of you.”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, senpai!” Sendo stuttered, then ran off.

Sato watched him go.

‘See? Sacrificing parts of yourself… that’s how love works.’

His hand twitched slightly.

‘That’s just how it works…’

“…Shizume-senpai?” Chiyoko called out gently.

Sato sat at his desk, spaced out, eyes unfocused.

Chiyoko tilted her head in curiosity.

“Shizume-senpai—” she tried again.

But a hand lightly gripped her shoulder.

It was Shun.

“Let’s leave him be, Chiyoko-chan,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on Sato with unexpected tenderness.

“Hiyori-san just left, and—”

“Ah, what are you saying, Shun-senpai!” Sato suddenly called out, cheerful and loud, wearing a too-wide smile.

“Hiyori—Hikki-senpai just realized she didn’t like the club! That’s all! It’s fine, really. It’s not like I’m forcing any of you to stay here!”

He let out a forced chuckle as he stood up from his seat.

“A-anyway, what did you need? A review? I could totally review your decorations!”

He brushed past them toward the decorations, inspecting them with exaggerated focus.

Chiyoko and Shun exchanged a quiet, confused glance.

“Ah… Sato-kun, you don’t have to push yourself,” Shun said gently.

“We all know you and Hiyori-san were close.”

Sato flinched.

His fingers tightened around a plastic ornament, cracking it in his grip.

Chiyoko flinched at the sound. So did Shun.

“Aha… Again, what do you mean, were?” Sato laughed, voice tight. “You’re making too big of a deal out of this! Let it go already! We’ve got a festival to prepare!”

He turned to them with that same smile.

“You know,” he added, walking back toward them, “I’ve been practicing my singing too. I’m going to perform with Hyakkimaru and the others!”

“O-oh… that sounds really cool, Shizume-senpai…” Chiyoko forced a smile.

“As for this decoration…” Sato looked at the cracked ornament in his hand.

“It’s broken. I’ll replace it in a jiffy! But you did a great job, Chiyoko. I’m proud of you.”

Chiyoko glanced at the floor, frowning faintly. “T-thanks…”

Sato’s eye twitched.

“REALLY, KNOCK IT OFF!” he suddenly yelled—still smiling, still forcing it.

The outburst startled both of them. Chiyoko instinctively leaned closer to Shun.

“YES! Hikki is in a relationship now! Yes, it’s—haha—a little fast for my taste, but that’s my taste! Not hers!”

His breathing grew shallow as he clutched the ornament and walked it to the box of broken decorations.

“She only knows him for, like… what, a few days? She’ll figure it out soon. She’s Hikki, after all. Girls fall for that kind of guy. That’s just how it is, right? If I were a girl, I’d probably fall for Shiyon’s bastard piece-of-shit brother too, because that’s just—”

He slipped.

Crashing into a table.

Blood burst from his nose.

“SHIZUME-SENPAI!” Chiyoko cried out, reaching for him.

But Sato shot up quickly, raising his hand to stop her.

“I’m fine…!” he said, smiling.

“I’m fine. Really… Just…”

His smile remained, even as blood dripped from his nose.

He looked down at it.

“Take five. I’ll clean this up.”

He staggered toward the supply closet.

“We can’t leave like that!” Shun whispered.

“Come on, Chiyoko-chan. Grab that mop and let’s—”

“I SAID FUCK OFF!!” Sato roared, trembling. “BOTH OF YOU!!”

His voice echoed through the room.

He didn’t lift his head.

Shun stood still. Then gently placed a hand on Chiyoko’s shoulder.

He looked at Sato for a long moment.

‘…I get it. If I hadn’t gotten Riko back… I’d probably be a more pathetic version of you, Sato-kun.’

He whispered to Chiyoko to leave, and the two of them quietly exited the room. Chiyoko looked back at Sato one last time, worry written all over her face.

And before long…

Sato was alone in the clubroom.

‘Hahaha… look at me. Yelling at my club members. Really—what’s become of me?’

‘If she were here, she’d be disappointed…’

But she wasn’t coming back.

‘Haha… really. I need to apologize to them.’

‘What’ll I do once she finds out I yelled at them? She’ll KICK my ass! Hahaha…’

He laughed softly to himself as he grabbed a mop and began wiping the blood.

But instead of cleaning, he only smeared it wider—he’d forgotten to wet the floor first.

‘Jesus Christ, STOP.’

‘For the love of God, stop acting like a maniac. I’m… I’m Sato Shizume. I’m your flower… No.’

He took a deep breath. Steadier. Sharper.

‘No. I will sing that song for you. I’ll still confess.’

‘Yes… that’s it. That’s the only reason you refused me—because I confessed too early. Like a goddamn idiot. I wasn’t patient enough…’

He remembered her voice:

“Or… do you need me to stay?”

And his own:

“The club does.”

He shook his head violently, as if trying to erase it.

‘There’s no other reason. I was just… impatient.’

Another memory struck.

“Why didn’t you want to come to my house after the onsen?”

Her voice. Hesitant.

“What are you talking about? Haha, it was late!”

His reply. Weak. Cowardly.

Then he saw his sister’s face.

What she did to him.

How she rode him like he was nothing but an object.

‘BECAUSE FUCKING YOU LIKE A WHORE—YOU DON’T DESERVE THAT, DON’T YOU GET IT!? CONFESS PREMATURELY!? WANTING TO KISS HER, TO FUCK—’

His breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, just a flicker—he saw Hiyori instead of his sister.

Her lips. Her warmth. Her trust.

He gulped.

Then immediately shook his head, violently, as if trying to rip the image out.

You could’ve had her between your arms…

Came the echo.

“NO!!!” he screamed, voice cracking, hands trembling.

‘It’ll work.’

He let out a small laugh as he continued wiping the smeared blood, even as his nose continued to bleed.

‘I’ll confess again… with this song. Only I know about it, after all. And it will work. It has to.’

==============

“Oh, hello,” a voice called out as Kenichi stepped out of his classroom.

He turned his head and saw Yuuno standing there.

“Kenichi-kun, right?” Yuuno murmured.

“Y-yeah… Yuuno-senpai, right? Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Kenichi replied, his stare blank, tone flat.

Yuuno chuckled softly, glancing down at his fingers as he absentmindedly toyed with them.

“I heard about Hina—your childhood friend. I’m sorry. That must feel awful.”

Kenichi looked away, lips tightening.

“…It’s cool. T-thanks. Who told you abou—”

“My little brother was the one she dated, right?” Yuuno interrupted casually.

Kenichi stiffened.

His breath hitched.

“You see, my brother’s… impulsive,” Yuuno sighed, voice light. “Rude. Inconsiderate.”

Then, he looked Kenichi directly in the eyes — and something behind his gaze burned.

“Would you help me teach him a lesson?” he asked.

“A certain type of lesson… one that might benefit you, too.”

His tone sharpened, calculated.

“Especially when it comes to your little… childhood friend.”

Kenichi’s fists clenched.

“…What do you need from me?”

Yuuno’s grin widened.

“Nothing too complicated…”

“I need to borrow some clothes, Sakurai-senpai,” Sato said first thing in the morning.

“My clothes from yesterday really stink, haha… and if you’re home, can I use your phone and school bag for going to school?”

“…” Yuuto looked at him deadpan, one eyebrow raised—somewhere between suspicion and sheer disbelief at Sato’s blatant requests.

“What, your abusive parents finally kicked your ass out of the house?” Yuuto asked.

“Beat the shit out of you, from what I can see on your cheek.”

“Uh…” Sato scratched his head. “Would that earn me all those things if I told you yes?”

“….” Yuuto sighed.

“I’ll give you a phone, sure. But not mine. Take the bag, and my clothes are gonna be too big for you.” Yuuto walked upstairs, opening his room.

“A-ah, t-thank—!”Sato was visibly startled by how calm Yuuto was.

‘…Even I would’ve kicked me out if I asked that. I may be fucked in the head, but even I know that was pushing it too far.’

Sato looked at the stairs blankly.

‘Well, that’s an odd request…’ Yuuto thought as he entered his room, heading for his computer desk, and opening a drawer…

…Filled to the brim with burner phones.

(Phones that have limited call time, ranging from 3 hours to up to 30 depending on the model. After that, you can no longer call anyone.)

And then, the good-for-nothing began thinking which of his phones that he uses for devious acts to give Sato.

“Devious my ass. It’s a righteous cause and you know it. Anyway… Hm… no way I’m giving him the Zephia S9, that one’s still logged into my dummy account and the call time’s capped at eight hours if you keep the brightness above fifty percent, and it overheats like hell if you use it indoors for more than ten minutes near a charger, but then again the Lexitel A10 is too good for him—call time is solid, twelve hours minimum even if you stream music or whatever, but it’s got GPS fallback and I don’t need this idiot accidentally blowing my whole backup identity because he wanted to listen to lo-fi on the bus, and the Glimm Wave? Nah, reception’s garbage in this part of the district, plus the mic randomly cuts out if you don’t hold it at a forty-five-degree angle, which he’s (well, anyone but me, really) too dumb to remember, and the Brickfone 331Z would be funny, sure—battery lasts forever, but it’s literally just a dial pad, no contacts, no history, no texting, he’d cry about it and say it’s too heavy, god, or maybe the old black R-Model X900, that one only gets three hours max but it charges in twenty minutes and looks decent, and if he loses it I won’t feel bad, BUT it still has the old ringtone from when I set it for… ah, no, too risky—fuck it, he gets the Tenzo Spark Mini #5, the one with the cracked screen and six-hour talk time if you pray and never turn on the flashlight function… If he came here, it’s likely he won’t make much calls to people.”

He pulled the Tenzo Spark Mini out from the drawer and casually tossed it into his pocket.

Then paused.

Beneath it was another burner phone—labeled:

“For Haruto Client.”

He looked down.

‘Fuck…’ he thought to himself.

‘I thought I hid it better.’

Haruto and Himiko’s faces flashed in his mind—walking away, hand in hand, into the light.

He closed the drawer and turned to walk back downstairs.

“Here. Don’t drop it or I’ll kill you. It’s the only backup phone I have,” Yuuto said, staring at him blankly.

“Ah… T-to have a backup phone… Haha, I’ll remember to buy one for myself too when I…”

Sato looked down, unsure of how to finish his sentence. His lips twitched.

“Anyway,” Yuuto snapped, tossing some clothes toward him.

“Put these on. Here are some laundry clips—use them to make the shirt fit. That’s my bag, it has my schoolbooks and notes. Anything goes missing, and you’ll wish your parents had abused you harder, from how bad I’ll kick your ass.”

“Senpai,” Sato asked, his expression unreadable, “why… help me so easily?”

‘…I sense a potential client,’ the scum thought to himself.

‘Another 2,500 yen case like Cuck’s. Nothing interesting… yet. But a client nonetheless.’

“…Consider this payback,” Yuuto said, casually. His eyes softening, though slightly.

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: SELINE SORAL – ETHEREAL]

“For helping me out with Organ Harvester. As much as I hate to admit it, you saved me from a pinch.”

Sato’s breath hitched—subtly. His eyes widened.

“And it’s not like I’ll need any of those things—at least for another week, until I heal enough to walk around.”

Yuuto turned and began heading back up the stairs.

“You saved Hikk… Hiyori-senpai,” Sato called after him, holding Yuuto’s things tightly.

“That was supposed to be my payback. That time with Shiyon-san.” Sato added. Looking down, confusion etching onto his features.

“…I didn’t save her so you’d be indebted to me,” Yuuto said flatly, not even turning around.

“What I did at the resort—I didn’t do it for you.” A moment of silence stretched between them, Sato pressed his lips together, looking away.

“…If you get it, scram already. School’s starting.” Yuuto continued, until vanishing into the darkness upstairs.

———

A door burst open into the principal’s office.

“Ahh, Shiyon-kun!” the principal said with a smile as he sat at his desk, signing documents.

But Shiyon appeared urgent.

“Tell me everything you know about Sakurai,” Shiyon demanded. “I’m not asking anymore, Principal.” His chest heaved.

“…Ah, do you now?” The principal lowered his pencil.

“HE IS FROM BLACK LETTER!” Shiyon leaned against the principal’s desk, slamming his fist down.

The principal wasn’t startled. He simply looked down with a sigh.

“And how did you figure that out?”

“…W-what?!” Shiyon blurted in English, surprised the principal didn’t just take his word.

“His… I JUST KNOW! YOU TRUST MY INSTINCTS, DON’T YOU?!” he called out.

“I do.”

“Then please. I need to know everything about him. He could be a threat—”

“Shiyon-kun,” the principal said, raising his gaze and locking eyes with him. “Leave it. Sakurai-kun is not a threat.”

“I’M TELLING YOU, HE IS!” Shiyon yelled, desperate. “IT’S A—”

“I see,” the principal interrupted.

“Anyone related to Black Letter is a threat, then?”

The principal’s eyes seemed to glow.

Shiyon’s own eyes widened. He looked away.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t know your little brother—who came here recently—has connections to that infernal organization?” the principal asked.

“The only reason he’s still at this school… and…”

He subtly growled, causing Shiyon to flinch.

“…is because you vouch for him, Shiyon-kun. And I trust your judgment. So please… trust mine.”

“…Some things we can’t control,” Shiyon said. “And I… I personally look after Yuuno.”

“Then,” the principal leaned forward, “Consider me PERSONALLY looking after Sakurai-kun.”

Shiyon’s breath hitched.

“Are we clear?”

Shiyon lowered his head as he rose from the desk.

Turned around and walked toward the door. Opened it… and stopped.

“But…”

He clenched his fist.

“If I ever deem him a threat—to me, to any of my brothers, or to this school…”

He turned to the principal, his eyes empty.

“I won’t come to ask you about what I’m going to do to him.”

“….”The principal stared at him, equally still.

“Well, naturally. I trust your judgment, after all—as I’ve said.” The principal replied with a smile.

Shiyon then left without another word.

—————–

“Finally, we’re done!” Kiriko smiled, clapping her hands together as she stood above Sakura’s room.

“It looks really organized now.”

She dropped onto Sakura’s bed with a sigh.

“Haah… it’s so comfy…” she murmured, gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m kinda jealous of you, Sakura. In a weird way.”

Sakura sat curled up in the corner beside the bed, arms around her knees, her voice barely audible.

“…Shouldn’t you be at school? This is the second time you’ve skipped morning classes to stay with me.”

“What are you saying?” Kiriko laughed awkwardly. “You’re my friend. I can always catch up on classes, I—”

“Did something…” Sakura interrupted, eyes still lowered. “…happen?”

Kiriko fell silent. Her lips pressed into a line.

“I—… It’s nothing. Really.” She cleared her throat, looking away. “A-anyway, the new Disciplinary Committee is really something, huh?”

“…”

“They just… they do whatever they want,” she muttered.

“Did one of them… do something to you?”

“O-oh, not really… I mean, not seriously… it’s just that… that…” Her voice wavered as she clutched the bedsheets.

Sakura slowly lifted her head, her messy hair casting shadows across her eyes. Her expression was unreadable.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kiriko whispered. “I love Yukito more than anything in the world.”

She shuddered.

“But lately, one of the committee members… he’s been making me do things. He threatened me at first. And after I gave in… he took photos.”

Her hands trembled. “He said he’d send them to Yukito if I resisted…”

Sakura blinked, stunned.

“That’s… that’s horrible,” she said. “But if you tell Shiyon-san, he’ll help you. And Yukito—he’d never blame you. No one would. Anyone sane would understand—”

“THAT’S THE THING!” Kiriko suddenly looked at her, eyes brimming with tears. “Something’s… wrong with me.”

Her voice broke.

“I… I don’t know if I want it to stop anymore.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Her breath caught.

“I don’t know if it’s the way he kisses… or how his voice drops… or the way his hands move… but—” she clutched her arms, dragging her fingers along her skin like she was trying to scrub something invisible off.

“I miss it. I… I miss it more than I miss Yukito.”

Kiriko gave a soft, bitter chuckle.

“It’s so weird… I don’t… Lately, I’ve stopped feeling guilty. And it’s driving me crazy. I—I don’t know what to do… Sometimes I start thinking maybe I should… just break up with Yukito and be with that guy…”

Sakura’s lips parted, stunned. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

She knew. Somewhere in the haze of her mind, she knew exactly what Kiriko was talking about.

That blur of guilt and pleasure—of missing something you shouldn’t.

She had felt it too.

And she knew why.

She was drugged.

She froze, panic creeping up her spine. That same drug was now spreading through their school.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything!” Kiriko stood abruptly and rushed out of the room.

“Wait—Kiriko!” Sakura jumped up to chase after her, but her legs gave out beneath her. She stumbled and hit the floor, breathing hard.

“I—I need to call the police!” She dragged herself to her phone.

But then—The door snapped open.

Minoru stepped in, positioning himself between her and the phone. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

“Don’t, Sakura.”

“Why not!?” she shouted, her voice hoarse, breaking. “Kiriko is getting drugged! She’s slipping away—just like I almost did—and—”

“I know,” Minoru said softly, kneeling down beside her. “I heard.”

“Then—why…?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped.

“Let’s just say… this isn’t the kind of thing the police can help with.”

He looked away. And for the first time… her big brother—so strong, so calm—looked afraid.

Sakura’s knees buckled again. Her voice shook.

“Then… what about Kiriko…? She’s… she’s my friend…”

She tried to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.

Because part of her understood.

Part of her remembered how… good it had felt.

“…” Minoru let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t worry, Sakura,” he said.

She looked up—really looked at him. His face was a mess.

A bandage covered his eye. His lips were swollen. His cheeks bruised. More gauze wrapped around his forehead and nose.

“I know a guy.”

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: Maga – Animality (Remix TikTok) EA7 Animality]

WHO!?

“Quitting?” Sato tilted his head. “What do you mean? Like, a temporary leave?”

She stood silent, fists tightening at her sides, gaze downcast, unreadable.

“Shukkun. Can you give us a moment?”

“Uh, sure…” Shun glanced between them, then left the classroom quietly.

“Sakkun… I can’t stay here,” she said. “In this club. This isn’t temporary. I’m done.”

Sato forced a laugh—shaky, panicked.

“What…? Why? Did something happen?”

“I realized I never really liked the culture club to begin with.” Her voice was soft, but resolute. “I’m joining the Disciplinary Committee. Shiyocchi already gave me the go-ahead.”

Sato blinked. “You… didn’t like the club?”

“…Sorry, Sakkun. In here, I feel like I’m just filling a space. Over there, they need me.”

“But… we’re club members, Hikki!” Sato blurted. “We’ve been together for—”

“Stop.” Her voice cut through like a blade.

“I said I hate it here,” she repeated, sharper. “I feel wasted here. And I realized that today.”

She turned away.

“Goodbye, Sakkun.”

Then she paused—just for a breath—at the door.

“Or…” she said without turning around, “do you need me to stay?”

Sato froze.

“I…”

‘I love you.’

‘I need you.’

But the words stopped. His mind flashed with her face—Hiyori, glowing like sunlight.

Then her hands. Her lips. His sister’s.

Sato’s throat closed up.

No.

It has to be perfect.

Hiyori deserved a prince. A stage. A song. She was his light—and the light deserves ceremony, not mess.

He looked around as if searching for a piano.

But even if he had one, now would ruin it. Ruin everything.

So he swallowed the words. Swallowed the truth.

“The… the club needs you!” he shouted. “You’re a valued member and—”

SLAM.

She was gone.

“Ah…” Sato looked down. “That’s fine. That’s… that’s okay. I just have to get my shit together until the festival. Then I’ll confess. Then… then I’ll confess… I’ll confess it then…” He clenched his fists.

“She’s… gone… just until then.” He slammed his fist on the desk, keeping a locked smile on his face.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Everything’s completely fine.”

“SO WHY DID YOU FUCKING LEAVE…!!!?”

Several more violent slams against the desk followed. He thought about how he’d have to return to his sister tonight. And this time, he wouldn’t walk home with Hiyori.

His fist was completely red as he let out a chuckle.”It’s fine.”

“I’ll just include this in the song. Maybe as an ironic mention. We’ll look back and laugh at how hotheaded you were… while we hold hands.” Sato looked down again.

Then he returned. Same routine.

Before long, he was in his sister’s arms.

And as he watched her half-naked body bounce atop his…

…All he could think of was Hiyori.

And how she left the club.

‘Just until then…’ he thought, assuring himself.

Another morning came. He went near her house. He waited… and waited thirty minutes before he left.

That day, he found out that the Disciplinary Committee had a schedule she had to commit to.

‘Just until then. It’ll be perfect.’

Mechanical. Signing documents. Accepting a new member. Decorating the school in advance.

He watched from the Culture Club’s window as she walked with the Disciplinary Committee outside the school—with Gon, who seemed detached, the commanding Shiyon, and the just-as-charismatic Yuuno.

She seemed to laugh when talking to the members.

‘The sting you feel now is the payoff you’ll feel later. The hurt you feel right now is the joy you know you’ll have. That’s what you told me, Hikki. When the festival comes, you’ll see.’

Night came. Singing lesson.

Once again, in his sister’s arms.

‘Hold on… Just hold on…’

Morning came. She wasn’t there again near the house. He walked away after fifteen minutes of waiting.

He walked through the hallway of the school, seeing her walk with Yuuno, touring the school. She seemed to laugh at a joke he’d said. And she didn’t even look his way as he passed her.

His breath hitched.

‘I’ll tell you, Hikki. People talk to people. I always knew you’re popular and talk to people. But I also know you love me. You told me that, right? You told me you’d never leave me.’

‘That no matter how long it takes, you’ll water me, right? I’m your flower? Then, please. Let me show you that. How I bloomed. At the festival. I’ll play my song and show you how much I love you.’

“Oh, what’s that, Sato? You wanna sing with us?” Hyakkimaru said, tuning his equipment. “And you wanna be the vocalist!? Holy shit, dude, no problem! That’s more publicity for us if you sing at the festival! Bokkori could use a rest.”

“Bokkori here. Yeah, 100%. My throat was getting sore these past few days.”

“Oh, and… mind if we play this song?” Sato handed him the song suggestion.

“Oh… an American song? Sato-kun, you can sing in English?”

It was then Sato demonstrated.

“Holy shit… you’re a natural.”

“I practiced, Senpai. Haha.” Sato chuckled.

“Why that song in particular though?” Hyakkimaru asked.

“Oh, that… it’s a song my friend loved… loves.” He emphasized.

‘You played it to yourself, Hiyori. The song you let no one hear. I studied its meaning, you know? You sing it for someone who passed away, but since you don’t know English you didn’t care. You just loved the melody. That’s okay. I don’t judge. I’ll show you that I care. That I notice.’

Sato then replayed Hiyori chuckling and smiling with someone else.

His eye twitched as he walked back to the Culture Club.

Another twitch.

Another day passed.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Once more, bringing up Hiyori in his mind to bring back his smile… though, that smile faded. Suddenly, her face wasn’t powerful enough to stretch a smile as wide as it used to be.

But it was still there.

‘It’s only two days from now.’ He thought, reaching the school.

“Man, have you seen Hiyori-senpai? How she’s walking with that Yuuno?” someone said as they passed Sato.

“..!!”

“She’s eyeing him all the time now. She doesn’t even make it subtle…”

“Ah… I wish I was Disciplinary Committee material. To be with that hunk… ugh…”

“I thought she and Sato-kun had a thing, though…”

“Nah, they were just really close friends!”

A crack formed in the mirror. His reflection distorted.

Sato picked up his phone, dialing someone.

Several minutes later, he stood behind the school, waiting.

Hiyori then came around the corner.

“…Hey,” she called.

“Hikki.”

‘I’m weak,’ Sato told himself. ‘I’m too weak. I should’ve waited until the festival. I even prepared the song for her. I went to singing lessons. I readied myself… I’m stupid.’

“I love you more than just a friend,” he finally let out. “I want to be with you… Back then, when you left the Culture Club… I meant to say… I needed you. Not the club. I needed you to stay.”

Silence stretched between them.

‘I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this… this… lame excuse of a confession out of the doghouse… but… I… I don’t know why I did it. I’ll make it up to you.’

“I’m sorry, Sakk… Sato-kun.” She stuttered, looking away as a breeze passed by them.

His breath hitched, his eyes widening.

“I’m dating Yuuno now.”

“Ah…” Sato let out.

She looked away, holding her arm.

A sledgehammer pounded against his reflection, breaking it into a million pieces.

‘Why…?’ he wanted to ask.But before long, another question formed in his mind.

Nay. An answer.

‘She would have answered differently three days ago.’

He swallowed, swiftly shaking his head, looking at her with a smile.

“You’re dating him, huh? You love… love him?” Sato asked, tilting his head, swallowing, blinking—all at once—while keeping a smile, trying to appear indulgent.

“…I do. Very,” she said, her voice composed. Soft.

“Ah.” He let out, his heart felt as if it slammed against his throat.

“Oh.”

“I see.”

“That…” Sato blinked, looked away, trying to find someplace to focus on, “That’s… huh. Happened quickly, didn’t it?”

“…” She didn’t reply.

Mirror began falling off—one shard at a time. His perfect reflection, shattering.

“Like,” he chuckled, “REALLY quickly, didn’t it?!”

He chuckled louder now. She frowned, looking down.

“I wasn’t there for a moment and you already found someone. Hahaha… hahahaha…. Like… like some whore from the streets…!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”Sato chuckled maniacally, replaying how he laid his head against her thighs back at the onsen resort, how he will never get to be that close to her again.

She looked at him, frowning—but confused. Worried.

“Sakkun…?”

“No, no, please—IT’S SA-TO, HIYORI-SENPAI…” he said with a smile, his cheeks blushing as he chuckled more.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re right. I’m losing my mind here. I’m being irrational… I know, hahahahahahaha, not the flower you raised at all, huh? Right, no. You’re just… ah. You fell for someone. It happens.”

“SAKKUN!!” she yelled, stopping him.

His breath hitched. His smile stuck as he went silent, looking at her strained expression.

“I’M SORRY.”

She looked at him firmly, though frowning.

“I felt it for him. I can’t explain it.” She let out, shaking her fist, tears in her eyes.

“I… I felt it for you, too,” she said. “That’s why I know it’s real.”

Sato’s eyes widened.

“And… he needs me.”

She then turned around.

“…Before you ever did.”

“….No. Ah…” Sato cleared his throat.

“You’re right. He needed you first. Naturally, you’d go to him… right…”

“Haha…”

He let out one last weak chuckle.

“…Goodbye, Sato-kun.”

She turned around and left.

‘Ahh… there’s… there’s no mirror anymore… Who… who am I?’ he asked the ground.

‘Oh, right. School ended. I need to go home for sis.’

He got up, tidied himself, and walked away from the spot.

‘….’

The singing teacher sighed to herself.

‘He’s not picking up… Tsk. Where’s that kid? He’s gonna miss his lesson.’

Little did she know, Sato went straight home.

Sato walked straight into his house, past the thugs guarding the entrance.

They looked at each other.

“Had a crazy expression on him today. I’m used to seeing him dead-eyed…”

“Maybe finally taking after boss?”

“Sis.” He opened the door to her room, locking it behind him the way she always liked.

“I’m here to cram you again,” he muttered—voice flat, eyes hollow.

She looked up lazily from her seat. “Huh?”

But he didn’t wait. He pushed her onto the bed and kissed her—rough, desperate.

“Mmph—” She grabbed his throat and kickced him off.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, like she was disgusted to even ask.

Sato fell flat on the floor, his breath shaking.

“Isn’t this what you wanted…? You wanted me. So have me.”

His voice cracked. “Take all of me… Take what you made…”

A sob escaped him. A tear slid across his cheek.

“Tch.”

She kicked him hard across the face, knocking him backward.

“Don’t cry on me,” she muttered. “Cry like that, and someone’s gonna see you as prey. Thought I taught you that.”

Then, a moment of silence where she eyed Sato’s body.

Looked down.

Then raised her gaze to him again.

“And don’t be mistaken. I’m not into you or some shit like that. I’m not messed up in the head to love my own brother. Just because I’m fucking you doesn’t mean I see you as more than a brother.”

She sighed, lighting up a cigarette.

Sato was silent, looking to the side.A moment of silence.

She glanced at him—briefly.

Then looked away.

“…What? Got dumped?” she finally asked.

“…You won’t do it with me?” Sato replied flatly.

Another click of her tongue.

“Nope. Think you deserve a reward for acting like a lunatic? You’re lucky I didn’t carve your face up.”

“…Fine.”

Sato got up, dusting himself off.

“Alright. You… you took her away.”

“Ah? Took who? Who the fuck you talking about?”

“You did it,” he repeated. “And now she’s gone forever.”

“You gone crazy or something?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Sato turned to her.

“I’m leaving. Aren’t you glad, sis? You won’t have to deal with the crazy me—”

“Don’t make some dramatic performance. Just fuck off already.” She sighed, looking at him with disinterest.

“I looked after you because of Dad’s dying wish. If you’re enough of a piece of shit to disrespect that—and the effort I put into raising you—and how much I cared for you—all because I didn’t spread my legs for you today, then go ahead. I ain’t gonna stop you from shitting all over the carpet.”

“Dad’s not here, is he…?” Sato murmured under his breath.

“…Fuck did you say?”

She widened her eyes, gaze suddenly dangerous.

“…Nothing. You’re right, sis. About everything. And I’m the fuck-up. I’ll leave, then.”

‘Without her…’ he thought of Hiyori, ‘what’s the point…? Of blooming. Of being a flower. I did it all for you.’

‘I don’t know what else I can do…’

He replayed moments—being courteous to other students, being thoughtful, working hard in the

Culture Club, studying, staying patient…

What he said to Yuuto.

Even the faces of the Culture Club members.

‘Because of you… with you gone… there’s just no point in blooming anymore.’

He sighed as he walked past his sister, grabbing his bag.

“Leave it here. Phone too,” she said. “I was the one who bought it for you, remember? I’m letting you keep your clothes, so be grateful.”

Sato quietly dropped the bag and gently placed his phone down.

And kept his clothes as he walked out of the house.

A bit after he left, his sister came out, standing next to the thugs.

“Is it okay to let him go, boss?”

“Yeah.”

She let out a puff of smoke.

“He needs to learn what’s important. Being homeless for a while will do him good.”

She puffed again, going back into the house…

…Giving one final glance to where Sato had walked, her eyes half-lidded and uninterested.

Nighttime.

A knock.

The door opened with a creak. A tired head peeked out through the gap.

‘…Manipulator?’ Yuuto thought, recognizing Sato’s face, the redness on his cheek still visible even in the dark.

“Hey… Sakurai-senpai,” he said, giving a small smile, “taking… visitors again?”

“…Take the sofa downstairs,” Yuuto replied, opening the door with a sigh.

His eyes opened.

Morning.

He took a breath, slow and hollow, then turned his head to the side.

No one was there.

“Sato. I’m heading out. Get food after school or something,” came a voice from across the room — feminine, firm, almost bored. His sister. She was dressing, already halfway out the door.

Sato looked at her back.

She didn’t bother to glance at him.

“…Bye, sis,” he muttered as the door slammed behind her.

With a quiet sigh, Sato got up and started his routine. Brushed his teeth. Slipped into his long-sleeved shirt, covering the carved map of scars that marred his torso. When he met his reflection, all he saw were dead fish eyes staring back.

No life behind them. No want to live.

Then Hiyori drifted into his mind. The thought of seeing her again today.

And just like that, the light returned. Just enough to form a smile.

His smile — his mask. His glasses and wig. And with it firmly in place, he stepped out the door and began walking toward her house.

“HIKKI~!” he called, waving eagerly as he spotted her near the edge of her home’s gate. “Did you wait long?”

“…No.” She didn’t look at him. Just sighed.

Sato’s eyes narrowed slightly. He could tell — she was frustrated. Something was off. She didn’t even meet his gaze as they began walking together.

“What’s wrong, Hikki?” he asked, tilting his head, trying to catch her eyes. Her blond hair fluttered with the breeze, her taller frame casting a soft shadow over him.

“I’m fine, Sakkun,” she replied.

“You’ve said that for days now.” His voice dropped. “Please, Hikki. Tell me.”

She hesitated. Let out a long breath.

“…Did you not want to come to my house that night?” she finally asked. “After we came back from the onsen resort?”

‘No… no. What are you saying?’

‘You don’t know, Hikki. You don’t know I’ve been planning to confess how I feel about you. But not like this…’

He clenched his fists.

‘You’re not just anyone I can blurt something like that to.’

‘It has to be special. As special as you are.’

Resolved, he imagined it already—him on stage, playing the song he practiced, then confessing. That would be the moment.

“Uh… ah…”

“…Sakkun, I… I wanted you to—”

“W-what are you saying, Hikki? It was already late. Why would I go hang out at your place…? Don’t be silly, haha…” He forced a chuckle.

“Ah… I see…” She lowered her head, lashes falling like a curtain. “So… you don’t feel anything like that toward me, huh?”

His eye twitched.

“Feel something? What are you talking about, Hikki…?” he asked, wearing his usual smile like a mask.

“I… see.”

“Okay, Sakkun.”

Another twitch.

“S-say, besides that,” Sato stammered, “There’s a festival soon, you know? Wanna go with me? We could pretend to be a couple and—”

“Sakkun.” She looked at him with a soft, resigned smile. “I think… I’ll walk to school alone today, alright?”

He stopped in his tracks. The wind brushed past them, carrying her words away.

“…Oh, sure! Everyone needs some time to themselves, after all!” he said, hesitating.

A moment later, it was Sato who walked ahead, while Hiyori faded quietly behind him.

‘It has to be perfect, Hikki. Me… who I am…? I’m the flower you watered.’

‘I want to show you just how much I feel that way toward you.’

‘It can’t be some cheap, street-level frolick…!!’

He clenched his teeth as he walked, the memory of his sister’s touch mixing violently with the image of a prince winning the girl in a fairy tale.

‘You’ll see. Once I sing this to you…’

‘You’ll see.’

‘How much I love you.’

He tightened his fist.

And reached the school.

‘Right,’ he thought as he made it to the schoolyard, greeting students one by one. Then, his gaze focused on the school’s gym. ‘Sendo’s been pretty downtrodden recently… I wonder why.’

‘I’ll check up on him,’ Sato thought, walking toward the gym, opening the door and spotting Sendo practicing on his own.

“Sendo-kun?” Sato called, approaching him as he swung his shinai at thin air.

“What’s wrong? You seem sad.”

“If I seem sad, it’s because Hina left me.” He swung. “She said she didn’t really like Kendo. How dare she… play with ma’ heart like dat!?” He pursed his lips, looking ahead.

‘Eh…? So it was something like that?’ Sato thought in resignation.

“Oh, that’s too bad… I guess you’re just too good for her, then—”

“DON’T GIMME DAT!” Sendo yelled, startling Sato.

“Sendo-kun…”

“I’m too good for everybody, it seemed, ya’ know!? It’s like… I’m the only one who likes Kendo, and I want more people to like Kendo. Why… why can’t people just like Kendo? It’s so damn cool, senpai!” He murmured, his voice shaky.

“…” Sato sighed. “Sendo-kun. Stop practice right now. Sit with me.”

“I don’t wanna,” he muttered, looking away with a pout, swinging his shinai.

“Your senpai wants to help you! And I’m asking you as your senpai! Are you going to refuse?” Sato pressed.

Begrudgingly, Sendo put his shinai away, and the two of them went to sit in the audience seats.

“Her name was Hina, right?” Sato muttered as he looked at Sendo. Sendo nodded.

“Okay. Was she your girlfriend?”

Another nod.

“Okay. What is a girlfriend, Sendo?”

“…. Ah… girlfriend is… uh… a girl that you can kiss, I guess.”

‘…’ Sato clenched his fists, his gaze shaking, but he contained his anger.

“Okay, it’s NOT a girl you can kiss. Not even remotely.”

He sighed, looking ahead.

Sendo turned to him, tilting his head in confusion.

“What is it, then, senpai?”

“It’s… hm. A girl that loves you. Someone who connects to you emotionally. Someone you hold dearer than anyone else in the world. Someone to walk the world with you. Someone who shares your fears, doubts, and dreams—who pushes you forward, and whom you push in return. Someone you can count on.”

“R… right…” Sendo scratched his head in confusion.

“The point is, it’s someone special.”

“A-and someone that loves you.” Sato added. “Hina wanted to be with you not because of Kendo, but because of you, Sendo.”

Sato looked ahead.

“She admired how kind you are. Your competitiveness. That you’re a cute cinnamon bun… the purest person the school’s ever seen. That you never lie. And how passionate you are about what you love.”

“Yer makin’ me blush, senpai…” Sendo turned his face away, red in the cheeks.

“But ultimately, she fell in love with you. Not Kendo.”

Sendo froze, his gaze dropping.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you?” Sato asked. “You put too much weight on Kendo, when maybe… you should’ve given her feelings a little more thought too.”

“But… but I really love Kendo, senpai!”

“You can’t love Kendo more than your girlfriend, Sendo.” Sato sighed. “Kendo’s a wonderful sport… but people are what matter most. Otherwise, why are you always trying to get more people to join your club?”

“Huh… I…” Sendo looked down, frustrated. “But… this doesn’t feel right.”

‘But it is right, Sendo-kun,’ Sato thought, his expression softening as he looked at him.

“Sometimes, you have to give up parts of yourself if you want to have a good life.” Sato glanced up at the gym ceiling.

“Is… is dat how it works..?” Sendo looked back at him, eyes searching for guidance.

“It’s rough, but it is how it works, Sendo. The next girl who comes along—if she likes you but hates Kendo—you should try to compromise that part. For her.”

“That way, she won’t break up with you the way Hina did.”

“Oh…” Sendo looked down. “Alright… Senpai, I think I get it. Don’t put Kendo above my girlfriend… She deserves more than that.”

“…Good boy, Sendo. You’ll be fine. I’m sure of it,” Sato said, patting him on the shoulder with a warm smile.

‘That’s right, Hikki. You matter more than just… some stupid, ridiculous night fuck. You deserve a proper confession. A proper celebration.’

‘…A proper man.’ Sato thought as he rose from his seat.

“Well, I’ve got to get to the Culture Club!” he said brightly. “Have a great day, Sendo.”

Later that day…

“Shizume-senpai, do you know… uh…” Chiyoko fidgeted with her fingers, struggling to speak.

Sato chuckled softly. “Sakurai-senpai, right? He fell down some stairs, so he won’t be back until he’s better. The principal told me.”

“Oh… I see… He’s fine, right?”

“Why don’t you just visit him, Chiyoko?” Shun called from nearby, painting bold strokes across a large sign.

Chiyoko blushed hard. “Ah… That… uhm… My mom isn’t free to take me. She’s working really hard and all…” She twiddled her thumbs, then bowed her head. “S-sorry for interrupting, senpai…” she muttered before scurrying off.

Sato smiled, scribbling on club documents at his desk.

“…”

“…”

“…Are we gonna talk about it, Sato-kun?” Shun finally asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about, senpai,” Sato said calmly. “No one got hurt at the resort. And Sakurai-senpai must have his own reasons for keeping his… erm, talent a secret.”

“I guess… It’s just worrying. The Disciplinary Committee, the sudden shift, and that day Sakurai punched Gon… That wasn’t just some play. They were seriously fighting—”

“Senpai.” Sato cut him off, gentle but firm. “I get it. You’re worried. But let’s stop here, alright? Things change. As long as we’re together, we’ll figure it out.”

“…Okay. I guess you’re right,” Shun mumbled, going back to his work.

The clubroom door creaked open.

“Ah, Hikki!” Sato perked up—then paused. Hiyori’s expression was unreadable as she approached his desk.

“…?” He looked down, seeing her place a letter before him.

“What’s this, Hikki?”

“I’m… I’m quitting the Culture Club, Sakkun.”

“…What?”

Yuuto Sakurai, for the next few days, would be grounded in his house.

… Or so the principal told his homeroom teacher.

“Sir…” Yamada stopped just before leaving the office.

“What is it, Yamada?” the principal asked.

Yamada hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Who is that… ruffian?” He sighed. “For the past six months, he’s been nothing but a menace in my classes. If I were Janen Johan Jaymison, I’d be demanding pictures proving how wicked he is.”

The principal chuckled. “Hahaha. Never figured you for a comic book fan.”

“What? Just because I teach here, I can’t have hobbies?” Yamada raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, cut it out. You know I’m joking with you.” The principal waved him off.

Yamada ignored that. “Who is he?” He nodded toward the office window. “He may have fooled the other students with his act, but I don’t buy it.”

The principal went silent, looking down with a solemn smile.

“Just tell me. We’ve known each other for years. If it’s something complicated, I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Yamada assured him.

The principal finally raised his head. “Nothing complicated. Just doing a favor for a friend in need.”

Yamada narrowed his eyes. “… Someone I know?”

The principal shook his head. “… I will say, that friend is very close to Hayato Sakurai.” He paused. “And that friend is very close to me personally. Hence, Hayato will continue to be a student in this establishment. Let it go, Yamada. I mean it. Take a few days off if you want to.”

Yamada scoffed, turning to leave. “… I’ll have you write it on paper. Those days off.” He raised an eyebrow before stepping out.

“Haah…” The principal sighed, rubbing his temples as he gazed out the window. The students outside carried on with their lives, oblivious. He watched them in silence.

“A storm is coming. Approaching. Provoking…”

His lips pursed.

“Hm. Seems I, too, am a fan of these comics.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do… haunted by—”

Sato’s voice cracked.

“Come on, Sato! You want a big confession, right?! THEN YOU HAVE TO SING!”

“Miss, my throat is sore! Are you trying to sabotage me!?”

“How dare you. I’m an INSTRUCTOR first, human second!”

“That doesn’t really help your case…”

Sayaka exhaled, rubbing her temples. “Alright… Fine. We’ll wrap up twenty minutes early. Go home, Sato.” She waved him off.

Sato hesitated. “Miss.”

She barely glanced at him as she sank into her chair. “What?”

“Thanks. It means a lot.”

She scoffed. “You’re paying me, dumbass.”

“As I said, you’re really kind~” Sato grinned before running off.

Sayaka nearly choked on her cigarette. “Fucking INK kid…”

For a moment, she sat alone in the studio, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

‘That ideal of love he’s holding onto is gonna kill the romance and any chance he’s got with her. He should just go for it.’

She flicked ash into the tray, staring at the ceiling.

‘But maybe all young people are like that. They need to get hurt to understand. It’s a shame, but that’s how it is…’

Her gaze drifted toward the entrance.

‘Despite that, I hope it won’t go down that way for you, boy.’ She clicked her tongue, pulling out her phone and dialing Sato.

“Kid.”

“What is it, Miss Sayaka? Did you miss me?”

“Shut up, brat.” She exhaled smoke. “But if you need a place to crash for the night, use the studio.”

A pause.

“… It’s alright,” Sato said, his voice faltering slightly. “Thanks for the offer, but my parents really need me. Especially my sister… She gets really restless when I’m not there.”

She took another drag. “Sure?”

“Yeah. I’m… I’m sure.”

“Alright. See ya’… Eat something warm, or something.” Her voice softened into a murmur.

“Okay… Ma…m…”

Her cigarette nearly fell from her lips.

“You bastard… You were about to say ‘Mama’ or some shit, weren’t you?”

“Ah! My train’s here! Bye, Miss!” Sato blurted before hanging up.

Sayaka scoffed, shaking her head as she crushed her cigarette.

“Dumbass kid.”

—————

“Hiyori. The big prom is coming… Would you like to go out with me?”

Sato murmured to himself as he walked home.

“No… SHIT. Forgot the Hikki. I always call her HIKKI.” He slapped himself—hard.

‘GET A FUCKING GRIP.’

“Alright… Ah… H-… Hikki… Would you like t-to… go to the prom with me?” His cheek still burned from the slap.

‘Better. The nervousness makes it look like I care more, right? That’s what Sayaka said… but that I shouldn’t overdo it.’

He hummed to himself.

‘But Hikki should know I care about her by now, right? I mean, I’ve shown her. I’ve become that person who cares about everyone… I’ve adopted that mindset. The water-to-a-flower bullshit she believes in…’

He hesitated.

‘No. It’s not bullshit anymore. I’m better now. She’s right. The more care and guidance you show someone, the better they turn out.’

He looked up. His house stood in front of him.

His eyes went dead like a fish.

‘Well…’ He exhaled. ‘I can think about that when I return to school tomorrow.’

He knocked. “It’s Sato Shizume.”

The door swung open.

Two men—twice his size—stood in the entrance.

“Come on in. Your sister’s waiting upstairs.”

Sato raised his gaze to them.

“Great.” His smile was blank as he stepped inside. After he walked past them, they began to talk.

“Creeps me the fuck out. Like he’ll kill you in your sleep.” One said, glancing at Sato as he started his ascent.

“Tell me about it… Maybe she should go easy on him? You’ve seen those scars on his back?”

“You wanna tell the boss that?” The other said, narrowing his gaze.

“Nah. I’m good. I like my head and my cock where they are.” He scoffed.

They shut the door behind him.

Sato climbed the stairs.

“Hello… Sis.”

He stood at the edge of the doorway, past the armed street thugs lurking in the house.

She sat on the bed, dark hair covering dark eyes, bandages wrapped beneath her leather jacket.

“Get in. Close and lock the door. I’m sick of telling you every time.” Her voice was blank, devoid of irritation—just an expectation.

Sato nodded and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click as he locked it.

“You’re early,” she said, her tone firm and even as her gaze ran over him, examining his form.

“I… already finished all my studies.”

“You crammed, huh?” Her chin lifted slightly.

“As I always do, sis.”

She stepped closer. “Good. You know how I want you to not live like me.”

She bent down, gently patting his back.

He flinched—just slightly.

Her breath was warm against his neck.

“Those injuries and scars… I knew where to hit so you wouldn’t die. You know that. You just needed discipline.”

Her voice was calm. Reassuring. Unshaken.

She leaned against him.

“I know, sis. You only care about me.”

Sato stared at the floor. His fist clenched so tight it trembled.

“Your sister’s glad.”

She pulled back, eyes locking onto his dead ones.

“Cram me next.” She let out, her eyes half-lidded.

“Yes…”

Her lips touched his. Her tongue forced into his mouth.

A cold blade pressed against the back of his neck.

No escape.

She pulled him closer, dragging him to the bed.

Sato’s mind drifted.

‘Ahh… Hiyori…’

Her voice echoed in his head as he closed his eyes.

‘I really want to talk about those flowers with you again…’

Yuuto stood up, his gaze falling on the unconscious, bloodied Minoru.

‘He called me Senpai.’ The thought lingered. He swallowed hard. ‘Who is he? I know he’s Sakura’s brother… Was he delirious, maybe?’

His eyes roamed the wreckage of the house until they landed on the mannequin—the one used to lure him in.

‘Some dedication. Didn’t they stop to think how odd it is that I have 4 mannequins in my closet?’

He stepped over the corpses, crouching to adjust the mannequin. Dark, long wig on it.

Carefully, he lifted it and carried it to the kitchen, the least bloodstained part of the house.

‘Good as new…’ His gaze softened.

“Mom.”

His fingers let go.

‘Nah. Mom died three years ago. She was raped to death in front of me. Along with my big sister. And my little sister. My father left me in this house alone until I went insane.’

A sigh.

He turned away from the mannequin. Streaks of red now marred its once-pristine surface.

‘Well.’

He exhaled. Stepped forward.

‘I do wonder what just happened here, but I need to take care of the corpses. And tie up Sakura’s brother. I need to find out what

s

he

doing he.

re…

Huh?

His body gave out. Muscles unresponsive. He collapsed against the stairwell.

A door lock clicked open.

Footsteps.

A presence.

A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the sunlight. No warmth.

Just a shadow, staring down at him.

‘Who are you?’

Yuuto’s voice barely reached his own ears.

“Name’s Itsuki,” the figure said with a relaxed smile. “I’ll be your senpai for the next three years in Black Letter.”

“Right. Why did you kill my mom?”

“Fun? Fun!” Itsuki grinned.

Beyond him, a field of flowers.

Sunlight. Vibrant colors. No withering petals.

“You’re bathed in light,” Yuuto murmured, watching her pick flowers with two smaller figures. His big sister and little sister. “As per your name, Mom.”

A voice cut in.

“It’s awfully convenient how your family is always on vacation, Sakurai.”

Riko tilted her head.

Yuuto ignored her, stepping forward.

“Is it warm over there?” He asked, hovering at the garden’s entrance.

“Silly,” his mother rose from the flowers, brushing her dress. “This is America. I’m on a trip to visit your sister, remember? Of course, it’s warm!”

“Does it hurt?” Yuuto’s feet lingered at the edge.

“No, sweetie. I’m really happy here. So, go back to suffering, okay?”

“Sure. Take care.”

Darkness crept in. The flowers dissolved.

“Take care of what? You?”

His father’s voice.

The warmth snapped out of existence.

“I can’t. Hikari’s gone. You have the new house to yourself, plenty of cash. Figure something out.”

A pause.

“If you ever stop being insane,” his father muttered. “I won’t fix you. I can barely fix myself.”

The door shut.

Silence.

“It’s one big hole I’m lying in.”

Yuuto stared at the void above.

“Dad left. No one can pull me up anymore.”

“There’s no one to save me from it.”

The words left his lips, hollow and certain.

“I bet if someone invincible existed, he could help me.”

But no one came.

“So I’ll just stay here… until Mom picks me up this time. And we’ll go together to America.”

A pat on his head.

Soft thighs beneath him.

His eyes fluttered open.

A blurred figure. Gently stroking his hair. Mom.

Warmth?

His vision adjusted.

A metal pole lodged in her mouth. Blood dribbling down her chin.

A grotesque smile with broken teeth.

‘Right. She isn’t here anymore.’

‘She’s in America.’

‘The field of flowers.’

‘It’s not warm here.’

‘The blood is cold.
So why was she saying it’s warm? The same as being in a field of flowers? That she was happy, if she was dying?

There weren’t any flowers in that room.’

A shift.

He stood in a dark hallway.

At the end—a red door.

Muffled sounds. Screams. Moans. Warped and distant.

He looked down. A baseball bat.

Gripped tight in his hand.

“Save them, Yuuto.”

“Please…”

A whisper. A plea.

“There’s no one to save.”

“They’re dead.”

“You’re hallucinating some bullshit right now.”

Shrug.

The hallway stretched. Infinitely.

The red door faded into the distance.

Darkness swallowed it whole.

Gone.

“You need to water flowers if you want them to bloom!”

Sato’s voice—bright, innocent.

A flash.

Darkness.

“Hahahahahahah,”

Clowns circling.

Laughing. Twisted grins.

“Dead-d-ed-ed-eead-e-ad-dea-d-ead-ea-daef-ade-ad-eadead—”

“Mommy dead.”

“Sister dead.”

“Father deadbeat.”

“Hence also DEAD.”

“I know, right?”

A voice responds. Distant. Hollow. Familiar.

“Man, just one organ, and all my troubles began.”

Echoes.

Hayato’s own voice.

“Senpai, that’s life,”

“Senpai, stop… Please…”

“Don’t… look.. Yuuto..”

A whisper. A plea.

“Hayato.. heheh…”

A breath against his ear.

“How does it feel?”

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘Please… Stop… Please…’ He cried out, collapsing onto the darkened floor, clutching his head.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

‘STOP..!!!
‘STOP..!!!!
‘STOP!!!!!!!! JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!! STOP!!!’ He shouted, but it kept looping.

‘I can’t… Take it anymore…’ He walked up to the cliff, fell from it, killing himself.

He lied on the ground below, covered in blood. Knowing it will loop again.

‘Someone… Please… Kill me.’

“Can’t do that.”

A voice. Different. Yet part of the loop.

Hayato’s vision wavered as he looked up. A figure loomed over him.

“I told you this 3 years ago. if you die,” the voice continued, “you won’t be able to pay me.”

Pay?

‘P… pay…?’ Hayato’s thoughts stuttered.

The figure crouched down, looking straight into his bloodshot eyes.

“10,000 yen.” The voice was casual. Familiar.

“This world’s a capitalistic mess. I’m a mess. You’re a mess. But it is capitalistic. If you pay me… I’ll help you.”

Hayato’s breath hitched. The figure’s silhouette sharpened. Dark hair. Glasses. That unwavering, almost taunting smirk.

Yuuto Sakurai.

Kneeling before him, his gaze alight with fierce determination.

“I’ll save your mom.”

A sharp inhale. Hayato’s body twitched as tears streamed down his face, blood mixing with them.

Yuuto’s expression didn’t change.

“Because I’m… Anti-NTR Man.“

“And I’mma baseball your demons’ ass.”

“I promise.”

Yuuto twirled the bat once before flipping it in the air, handing Hayato the handle.

Hayato reached—

…and then Yuuto opened his eyes with a slow inhale. His chest rose, then fell. After steadying his breath, he looked around.

He wore clean, different clothes while lying on his bed inside his room. The air felt still, his thoughts lagging behind as if he had just surfaced from deep water.

A faint click followed by the glow of burning tobacco caught his attention. A man sat across the room, cigarette in hand, watching him.

“You gave Minoru quite the scare, Hayato,” the man sighed, the smoke curling into the dim room.

Yuuto cleared his throat. “Who’s this Hayato? Sounds like some pussy.”

Silence lingered between them. The man clicked his tongue, tapping the ash from his cigarette before exhaling.

“Seiichiro Kurose,” he rasped, voice carrying something between irritation and expectation. “Rings a bell? Any bell?”

Yuuto frowned, his gaze dropping slightly as he searched for recognition. Something about the name sat uncomfortably in his chest, but no clear memory surfaced.

“I remember your voice,” he muttered before looking up again.

The man stiffened slightly, his posture shifting.

“You’re the guy who held me at gunpoint a while ago. I’m sure of it.”

Seiichiro looked down, exhaling deeply. “…Yeah. That’s me.”

Yuuto swallowed, his gaze drifting over himself. Clean clothes. Fresh bandages. A bed. His room. He flexed his fingers against the sheets, grounding himself in the present before looking back at the man before him.

“Why help me? What about the massacre downstairs? How did it happen?” His voice steadied, locking onto Seiichiro. “Who are you?”

Seiichiro took another slow drag of his cigarette, his expression unreadable behind the thin veil of smoke. He let it sit in his lungs before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I can’t do this shit…” A quiet, exasperated chuckle left him—tired, bitter. He stood, shaking his head as he turned away.

“Figure it out on your own,” he muttered, striding toward the door.

“Hey, WAIT—!”

Yuuto tried to lurch upright, but a sharp pain lanced through his abdomen.

“Ahhck!” He winced, his body instinctively curling inward.

Seiichiro stopped at the threshold. His fingers hovered near the doorframe for a moment, his back still turned.

“Stay still for a bit. You got roughed up good,” he muttered, his voice carrying a slight shift—quieter, less edged. “As for those people, they won’t come after you. They were acting without their leader’s knowledge. Arrogance made them sloppy. You got lucky.”

Yuuto gritted his teeth, his hand pressed against his side. “And if I wasn’t lucky?”

Seiichiro scoffed but didn’t turn around.

“Then we’d be having a different conversation.”

A silence stretched between them. Seiichiro finally glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sharp in the dim light.

“But stay the fuck away from them. Don’t try to look for them.”

Yuuto narrowed his eyes. “And if I do?”

“I won’t be able to protect you.” The words were firm, but something in his tone faltered—just for a second.

Then, without another word, Seiichiro stepped through the door, leaving Yuuto alone in silence.

‘Well, I don’t care. I don’t need your protection, whoever you are.’ He laid his head against the pillow, exhaling sharply. ‘I got this far without help, and I’ll do it again. I’ll find those bastards…’

His jaw tightened as the weight of the night settled in.

‘They dared break into my house?! What the fuck am I supposed to say to Mom when she comes back!?’

A slow, simmering rage coiled in his gut.

‘Nah. They’re mine.’ His fist clenched as his mind flashed to Himiko’s and Haruto’s corpses. ‘They crossed the fucking line.’

‘Messing with my clients…?’ His eyes darkened as they landed on the baseball bat at the far end of the room. ‘They’re all dead.’

But first and foremost… He exhaled, forcing himself to think past the haze of pain and fury.

‘I need to figure out exactly what happened at the mixer to Sakura. And the prime suspect? The new blonde. Shit went down the second he showed up at school… Yuuno.’

His thoughts churned. ‘And by extension, Organ Harvester.’

It all connected. It had to.

But even as the fire burned in his chest, reality smacked him back down. His fingers twitched against the sheets, testing his body’s limits.

‘…I can’t move like this. These injuries—fuck. Guess I’m stuck in bed for a few days. Cursed be this mortal body…!’

[Trust me, ya’ll. You WANT to read this one through >:).]

Yuuto’s Terms of Service:

11. Should the job go smoothly, you will never be bothered by the same character again.

——————————–

[WARNING: Drug Use. Gore.]

“Found someone, sir.” A feminine voice murmured into her phone as she lurked around the corner of Sakura’s house, watching intently. Yuuto had just left.

“No… make that two.”

With a confident stride, she approached the house, her gaze locking onto the small silhouette of Shiori joyfully hopping around in the living room.

A gruff, composed voice rumbled through the receiver. “Good, Koko. Any trouble getting her here?”

Koko’s lips curled into a smirk. “No. I confirmed it—only three souls in the house. The girl he visited is on the uppermost floor, a middle schooler, and some flimsy pretty boy.” She tilted her head, grin widening.

“There’s no one here who can stop me.”

A chuckle rumbled on the other end. “Just don’t overdo it. We need her intact—to break him more efficiently. And if possible, grab the kid too. You know we’re short on young ones.”

“Of course… sir.” The smile never left her face as she ended the call. Without hesitation, she climbed over the front gate and strode toward the house.

‘Now to lockpick and—’

The moment she bent over the lock—

A fist exploded through the door.

“GAA—!”

Her breath hitched, eyes going bloodshot—widening in disbelief and sheer alarm.

She looked up at the source.

A silver tiger glared back at her.

‘I… DIDN’T… SEE… A TIGE…R…’

Her mind fractured under the shock.

Bone crunched. Blood splattered.

Her body crumpled instantly, nose shattered—unconscious before she even hit the ground.

“Big Brooooo~ Is someone there?” Shiori’s voice chimed from inside.

Minoru flexed his hand, shaking off the sting.

“Ahh, no, my angel! I just realized I forgot to buy some eggs! I’ll be right back~” he called out smoothly, already stepping over Koko’s limp body.

“BUT YOU NEVER BUY THIIIIIINNGS~” She called cheerfully.

With a swift motion, he hoisted her onto his shoulders.

His eyes darkened.

‘Now then…’

‘Time to end you fuckers.’

His gaze glowed with unspoken menace as he disappeared from sight.

—————–

Yuuto leaned against the entrance to his house, breathing heavily.

“Goddamn it…”

His eyes flicked to his phone, the message glaring back at him—the one that had popped up just before he left Sakura’s house.

[I NEED YOUR HELP. PLEASE COME. IM AT YOUR HOUSE — HARUCUCK]

‘What was I thinking giving that mommy fucker my phone number?’ He exhaled sharply, pocketing his phone as he stepped through the gate.

Then he froze.

The front door was ajar.

His gaze sharpened, scanning the dark interior.

Someone had broken in.

And it sure as hell wasn’t Haruto. That idiot would’ve waited outside.

But… someone had used Haruto’s phone to lure him here.

‘Shit. SHIT.’ Yuuto gripped his phone tighter.

‘His father’s a mess and broke. He couldn’t have pulled this off. Kyoya Guuji is dead. Kazuki’s gang is gone. No one should know to come after Haruto. And more importantly…’

His jaw tightened.

‘They broke into MY house.’

A slow exhale. His muscles tensed.

‘Good thing Mom and Dad are on vacation again. Good thing they’re always away, or they might’ve gotten caught up in this.’

His fist clenched.

‘So, someone knows it was me. But… who?!’

His mind raced. Nothing clicked. Too many unknowns. ‘Fuck. I’ll figure it out later. Right now… I need to save them.’

Staying low, he crept around the yard, peering inside.

There. A shadowy figure stood just beyond the doorway, lurking—waiting to strike.

‘…Can’t break the windows. Mom and Dad would kill me. Front door it is.’

He exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders.

‘Did you really think…’

His foot shot forward—

BANG!

The door exploded open.

“SUCH OBVIOUS BAIT WOULD WORK ON ME?!”

A mannequin toppled over behind the door.

Yuuto’s breath hitched.

A mannequin.

A decoy.

“Yep.”

The voice came from behind him.

Yuuto whipped around—

Too late.

“Nice bat.”

A blur of metal.

Pain.

A searing white. Then red. Then—

Darkness.

Yuuto hit the ground. Unconscious.

“Hey there, Cuckooto.”

His own voice—flat, detached.

He sat beneath a tree, the mountain air crisp against his skin.

Haruto sat on the opposite side of the tree, shoulders hunched, eyes hollow. Back then—after Kyoya had tricked Himiko and Haruto, leaving him stranded alone on the mountain.

“Sakurai…” Haruto murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, lost in the wind.

Yuuto exhaled slowly. “Why didn’t you kill yourself?”

Haruto hesitated. “I…” His gaze dropped to his arms. “I was about to. But… just as I was about to cut my wrist, I looked at them and thought—ahh… I won’t feel them swell from working out again.”

A pause.

“Huh.” Yuuto looked down, his expression unreadable. “Hmm.”

“My friend’s workout regime is just that good.” He smirked faintly. “Obviously, it’d stop you from dying.”

Haruto let out a breath—half a chuckle. “Haha…”

Then a grin. “I guess I’m alive thanks to you, then!”

“10,000 yen per case is a steal!” Haruto had shouted once, his voice brimming with life. “You should charge more!”

“I KNOW, CUCK.” He said with a confident grin.

Yuuto watched as he reached for Himiko’s hand, the two of them stepping into the light together.

Haruto stopped.

He turned back.

Yuuto then furrowed his brow. “Hm?”

“Sakurai,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I want you to know…”

A beat.

“You saved my life.”

His eyes held warmth, gratitude.

Yuuto met his gaze, silent. Unmoving.

“And you taught me how to be brave.” He said as he gave Himiko a warm glance.

A soft, genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

Then, a final farewell.

“Take care, alright? If it’s you, you can do it.”

Hand in hand, he and Himiko stepped forward, vanishing into the bright horizon together.

Yuuto clenched his fists.

The light around him flickered.

Died.

Shadows crawled, swallowing the world whole.

‘No, cuck.’ His gaze darkened.

‘I was the one who killed you.’

Reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

Blood—thick, warm, pooling beneath him. The metallic scent was suffocating. His wrists burned against the restraints binding him to the chair. His head pounded, body aching from an unseen number of wounds.

Yuuto’s vision swam as his eyes flickered open, half-lidded and soaked in crimson.

Haruto and Himiko lay sprawled before him.

Still. Lifeless.

Himiko’s lips were frozen in a manic grin, her wide eyes staring into nothing. Her body lay bare, exposed, untouched by any visible wounds—yet her mouth foamed slightly, her expression eerily twisted in death.

Beside her, Haruto’s body slumped unnaturally. His face was locked in an expression of pure dread, his half-lidded eyes unmoving, unflinching.

His skull had been caved in.

A voice cut through the haze, smooth and unhurried. “Thought you’d appreciate us bringing your ‘clients’ here.”

A chair scraped against the floor as someone took a seat in front of him.

Yuuto remained silent, slowly lifting his head.

He was surrounded.

At least twenty men. Maybe more.

None of them covered their faces.

That could only mean one thing—they never let anyone they meet leave alive.

At a glance, each of them seemed at least on Kyoya Guuji’s level.

And then there was him.

The man sitting across from Yuuto, a dark hat casting a shadow over his face. Calm. Confident. Legs sprawled in a posture of absolute ease.

Danger.

Yuuto’s instincts screamed at him. This wasn’t an enemy he could fight. Someone leagues above Shiyon… And even Minoru.

“Look at me.” A sharp slap cracked through the room, colliding with Yuuto’s cheek.

Yuuto’s head snapped to the side, blood spitting from his lips.

He exhaled slowly, then turned his gaze forward.

His blank, lifeless eyes met the man’s.

For an instant, silence.

Then, a sneer.

“Anti-NTR Man.”

Snickers and jeers echoed around him.

The man smirked. “Look at you. The great Anti-NTR Man, finally caught by us—” he gestured theatrically, “—the villains.”

Laughter erupted around the room.

Yuuto said nothing. His gaze flicked to the corpses.

“Ah. Don’t bother.” The man waved a hand dismissively. “They’re dead dead.”

Yuuto’s breath hitched.

The man leaned in slightly, voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, and soon enough, my colleague will be here with that girl you spoke to earlier.”

A pause.

Then, a grin.

“This colleague went in the moment you got out of there. Just an FYI.”

Yuuto’s fingers twitched.

“Her family’s all dead too by now, probably.”

Another taunt. Another dagger twisted in.

“All thanks to you, Anti-NTR Man.”

He chuckled, rising from his seat.

Yuuto’s gaze dropped. His breathing shallow.

The man tilted his head. “Oh? Lowering your eyes? Heh… maybe you finally get it.”

Yuuto inhaled deeply.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

His muscles tensed against the restraints.

Then, he lifted his gaze, meeting the man’s eyes directly.

The man leaned in slightly, amused by the sudden shift.

Yuuto lunged.

His teeth bared, aiming straight for the man’s neck like a feral beast.

But—

The man moved backwards seamlessly.

“Oh, nice one!” He called mockingly.

Yuuto missed.

Momentum carried him forward—crashing to the ground, chair and all.

Before he could react, a boot swung up—slamming into his chin.

Pain exploded in his skull.

“Rrrgh…!!!! RHHAAAA!!!”

His vision flickered.

Yuuto growled in agony, his body tensing with pure rage.

“RRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHH!!!!!” He roared.

Desperate, he twisted, snapping his jaws at the man’s tendon—only to be kicked in the face again.

Hard.

His body flew back, crashing into the wooden floor of his house as the wooden chair splintered beneath him.

The restraints snapped.

Yuuto was free.

With a guttural snarl, he lunged forward, his body moving on pure instinct. He didn’t care anymore—he was going to kill this bastard.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But the man only laughed. A cruel, condescending chuckle, dripping with amusement. With a casual step back, he snapped his fingers.

From the shadows, a figure emerged.

Large. Towering. Monstrous.

A foreigner built like a wall, thick with brute strength and unshakable confidence. His cold, sneering gaze bore down on Yuuto from above.

Yuuto didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He swung with everything he had—a punch thrown with raw, desperate power. But it never landed.

Oliver caught his fist effortlessly.

Yuuto gritted his teeth, pushing back, struggling against the overwhelming force. His arm trembled under the grip, but it didn’t budge.

The man watching smirked. “You all stay out of this. Oliver, have some fun with him.”

Then, he turned to Yuuto, his voice tinged with mockery.

“You should be grateful, Anti-NTR Man. After all, he’s the one who raped that bitch to death and killed that boy of hers.”

Yuuto’s heartbeat spiked.

Haruto’s voice echoed in his head—“I guess I’m alive thanks to you, then!”

But the memory collapsed under a tide of red. Blood. Crushed bone. His friend’s skull, bashed in, sat at the edges of his vision. A sight that grew sharper, clearer… all-consuming.

The man’s grin widened as he watched Yuuto’s expression shift. “Let me tell you—he’s quite sadistic.”

A pause.

Then, the final twist of the knife.

“He killed the boy while she was overcome with the drug. Even while he died, she couldn’t stop riding Oliver.”

Laughter erupted around the room.

Yuuto’s vision narrowed to nothing but red.

A sickening chorus of amusement.

Something in Yuuto’s mind snapped.

Yuuto lunged—headfirst, full force.

Pain screamed through his palm as Oliver’s grip crushed his hand, but he ignored it.

His forehead slammed into Oliver’s nose. Blood splattered.

Oliver barely reacted.

Yuuto didn’t stop.

His knee shot up—driving into Oliver’s crotch with everything he had.

Nothing.

No recoil. No flinch.

Not even a twitch.

Yuuto snarled, his breath ragged. “GRRRRRRR!!!!”

But Oliver only tilted his head.

Almost… disappointed.

Then—

A single, bone-crushing punch.

Yuuto’s vision fractured. His body collapsed instantly, gasping for air.

Before he could even process the pain, Oliver’s leg swept forward.

Yuuto’s world tilted.

The ground slammed into his back.

The man watching chuckled, stepping over Yuuto’s crumpled form.

A sneer.

“Weak,” he muttered.

Yuuto’s gaze drifted—

To Haruto.

His skull—crushed. Brains spilling out onto the floor in a grotesque, unrecognizable mess.

His breath hitched.

“Haa… Haa…”

The sight of it made his stomach twist, his body locking up.

The man chuckled. “Hooo…? You liked that guy, Anti-NTR Man?”

Yuuto said nothing. His body trembled.

“Didn’t think you’d be a homo.”

Mocking laughter echoed as he lazily signaled to Oliver.

Yuuto’s thoughts spiraled.

‘10,000 yen… I need to pay him back…’

His fingers twitched. ‘I… failed…’

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

The man smirked. “Thanks.”

He dipped his fingers into a small bag Oliver handed him.

White powder clung to his fingertips.

“MD-01.” He exclaimed as he looked at his now-powdered fingers with caution.

Yuuto’s blurry vision locked onto him.

“Oh, don’t look at me.” The man smirked, his tone laced with mockery. “Oliver.”

A sudden force slammed Yuuto’s head against the ground. His skull throbbed with pain, but it was nothing compared to what he was being forced to see.

Haruto.

The gaping hole in his head. The lifeless, vacant stare.

The man’s voice was almost amused. “The reason why is because you’re a homo, right? You wanna fuck that guy, right? That’s why I can’t have you looking at me while I’m giving you this drug. Don’t worry—I’m gonna help you.”

He let the words linger, savoring the moment. A deliberate, agonizing silence.

“With this.”

Yuuto’s fingers twitched as his mind struggled to process what was happening.

“Oliver used the same drug on the woman.”

His breath stalled.

“It made her go into a frenzy. Ride him until she forgot everything she cared about—until she eventually died of heart failure. Crazy, huh?”

The words slithered into his ears like poison.

“We made the same variant for men too. I should be careful not to inhale it…” The man chuckled. “Well, anyone who took in too much eventually died. Heart attack, exhaustion… same thing.”

Yuuto’s muscles screamed to move, to kill. But Oliver’s weight pinned him down.

A guttural growl escaped him, deep and primal. “GRRR…!!!!”

‘NO… I DIDN’T FAIL!!!! I CAN’T… FAIL HERE…!!!! NOT TO THIS FUCKER…!!! FUCKER!!!!!’ His mind roared in despair, but all that came out were incoherent, animalistic snarls as he thrashed against Oliver’s grip.

The man smirked. “But you? You should be grateful.”

A pause. A sneer.

“At least you’ll get to fuck his corpse with wild abandon.”

The room erupted in laughter.

“The way Oliver railed his mom while he died…”

The man crouched down, his breath warm against Yuuto’s face.

Yuuto struggled violently, his mind clawing for control.

He couldn’t move.

The man’s smirk deepened.

“Goodbye, Anti-NTR Man.”

Fingers abruptly pinned against Yuuto’s nose.

A sharp inhale.

A violent, chemical burn in his lungs.

His pupils dilated.

His vision fractured.

Darkness.

————————-

They say the greatest attributes of the human race are willpower and love. People are driven by the motivation created by those feelings and forces.

But if you were to ask this story’s protagonist about his opinion on the matter, he would tell you something you might find disheartening and bizarre…

He would say: Pleasure.

Everyone’s driving force is pleasure, disguised as those feelings. Hidden by a farce called chivalry.

But he is different.

Something that even he himself is not aware of.

His innate driving force…

… Is not pleasure.

It’s pain.

Rage.

“That’s at least the gist of it. How is it, Kurose-kun? The main character is based on you, you know!”

———————-

“S-… en…pa.i…”

A weak, gurgling voice cut through the haze.

“Stop… It’s… me… Minoru…”

Minoru choked on his own blood, his body trembling beneath the crushing weight pinning him down.

A powerful hand clenched around his throat, unrelenting.

Yuuto loomed over him, his grip ironclad—his knuckles stained deep crimson.

The room reeked of death.

Over twenty bodies lay scattered across the room—limbs twisted at unnatural angles, throats torn open, faces rendered unrecognizable beneath thick streaks of blood. The once pristine walls were now drenched in violent shades of red, a grotesque tapestry of carnage.

The foreigner’s massive frame lay motionless, his lifeless body pooling in its own blood. His manhood had been ripped away, the wound gaping, raw, and brutal.

The man in the hat had met an equally gruesome fate. His scalp had been torn from his skull, leaving his exposed bone gleaming under the dim light. His wide, panic-stricken eyes remained frozen in death, forever capturing the moment of his horror. A few meters away, his severed scalp lay discarded, a final testament to his end.

A massacre.

And Yuuto stood at the center of it.

But his gaze was empty—unseeing.

Like a beast still lost in the frenzy.

Minoru gasped, his nails scraping weakly against Yuuto’s wrist, his strength fading.

“Senpai… please…”

For the first time since the slaughter began—

Yuuto blinked.

The haze cracked.

Reality seeped in.

His fingers twitched. His breath caught.

Yuuto’s grip loosened.

‘What… Happened…?’ Yuuto thought as he looked around, taking in the scene of death; his gaze eventually landing on Minoru.

“Koko, come with me. I need you on this Sakurai investigation.” The man spoke into his phone as he walked, his tone casual but firm.

“Don’t be like that,” he added, adjusting his pace. “Oliver’s lust has been handled. He won’t be ogling you or anything. Besides, I’ve called in extra people—” his voice lowered slightly, “—considering he allegedly took out Kazuki and Kyoya’s gang.”

A brief pause.

“Also,” his tone sharpened, “since he lives alone, we’ll need leverage. Grab someone from his class—doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl. Though…” he scoffed, “preferably a female, considering he calls himself Anti-NTR Man.”

There was a slight pause before he added, “Sounds like the kind of name a frustrated teenage virgin would come up with after watching too much porn.”

Silence on the other end. Then, a quiet confirmation.

“Good. See you soon. Oh, last thing….” His gaze darkened.

“You know not to tell the boss, right? We don’t want him to know we looked into his new golden boy’s territory.” He sighed.

“Good.” He said as he hung up.

He pocketed his phone just as he arrived at Yuuto’s front door. He took a moment, glancing up at the house with a smirk.

“Nice joint, Anti-NTR Man.”

———————–

‘What do I mean, “now what”?’ Yuuto thought. ‘Questioning, that’s what. What happened? How was she drugged? When? Who? Their appearances, their involvement—I need answers. Stay focused. Don’t get distracted.’

Yuuto’s gaze swept the room.

‘That’s all I came here for. That’s all I need to do.’

“So. What happened back at—”

“You were right.”

Her voice was unsteady, cutting through his words as she clutched her knees, staring down.

Yuuto blinked.

“…I’m right about everything of things. What do you mean, specifically?” His voice was steady, the dim light casting sharp shadows as he remained by the door.

She trembled, her fingers tightening into fists.

“…Look at me,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I am exactly the weak person you said I was. I bent over easily, like you said… And got messed up for it.”

Yuuto’s throat tightened. He looked down, searching for words, but nothing came.

“Could’ve happened to anyone,” he muttered at last.

‘What’s wrong with me? She’s right about herself. So why the hell am I trying to comfort her?’

Sakura’s hands dug deeper into her arms, her nails pressing into her skin.

“FUCK YOU.” The words came out sharp, almost cracking.

“You came here just to rub it in my face, didn’t you!?” she snapped, her voice rising as she glared at him through the darkness. “IF NOT, THEN WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

“…None of it was your fault, Sakura,” Yuuto responded, his tone gentler now, quieter. “You were caught in a situation beyond your control. Because of me. I’m… sorry.” His voice nearly trembled.

‘Why can’t I look at her?’

‘I don’t care about her.’

‘…Right?’

He inhaled sharply.

‘Then why did it bother me that she went there?’

‘Why did I lose it when I saw her cave in back then? People bend all the time. It’s not my problem.’

‘So why was it different with her… Hm, she went because of what I said. Because I lost myself back then.’

‘That makes it my responsibility. That’s why.’ He thought to himself, though feeling as if he wasn’t able to fully convince himself.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“Ha… HA HA!” She dragged a hand down her face, laughing through gritted teeth, her expression manic as her voice shattered his train of thought.

“LOOK AT PATHETIC SAKURA!!!” she mocked, her voice shrill. “SHE GOT UPSET BECAUSE SENPAI WAS MEAN TO HER, SO SHE RAN OFF TO A MIXER TO PROVE SHE WASN’T WEAK AND BEND EASILY—AND GOT DRUGGED AND ALMOST RAPED FOR IT!“

Yuuto inhaled sharply.

Her laughter turned hollow.

“The great Sakurai-senpai, who keeps ‘saving me’ and Kiriko like some overprotective, self-righteous CREEP, had SUCH a big space in my head that I went out just to SPITE him.” She gritted her teeth, the weight of it hitting her all at once.

Her hands clenched tighter.

“And now?” Her voice broke. “Now he gets to say, ‘I told you so.’ Right?”

Her breath hitched, and before she could stop herself, she curled into herself, her shoulders trembling.

Yuuto stood frozen, his hands at his sides, watching her. His thoughts ceased.

“I… know my apology might not mean much,” he started, his gaze falling to the ground.

“But I am sorry. You didn’t deserve any of what happened. And… I regret not appreciating your kindness earlier. I realize now…”

That when I saw those guys approaching you, coercing you into something you didn’t choose… I was seeing my own fears reflected in you.

Sakura stiffened, then let out a sharp breath.

“…What…? So it all comes back to you, doesn’t it?” she muttered. Then her voice snapped.

“Great. You apologized. Good for you. Now get out!!!“

Yuuto didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

“…I SAID GET OUT!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!“

Her screams tore through the room. She grabbed whatever she could—pillows, books, a half-empty bottle—and hurled them at him with all her might. Yuuto barely flinched.

As she stepped fully into the light, her disheveled state was laid bare—hair tangled, eyes red and swollen from an hour of crying. She was trembling, her body straining with every breath.

Then, suddenly, her voice dropped to a whisper.

“…You know what’s truly insane…?”

She swallowed, her lips trembling before curling into something twisted.

“Even after everything… when I saw Yahiko-kun…” Her fingers curled into her sleeves. “Despite no longer being drugged, despite knowing exactly what happened… I… I almost couldn’t control myself.“

Her breath hitched.

“I wanted him. In every way. More than I cared about anything else. Even my own mom and dad…” She let out a breathless laugh, eyes dark and hollow.

“And I still do. I STILL FEEL THAT WAY.”

She let the words hang, let them weigh on the air like a curse. Then, suddenly, her breath turned sharp, manic.

“Hahaha… ISN’T THAT CRAZY!?” Her voice pitched upward, laughing at her own despair. “I REALLY AM THAT PATHETIC, JUST LIKE YOU ALWAYS THOUGHT!“

Her fingers dug into her arms, nails pressing deep into her skin.

“I’M CLEARLY NOT WORTH YOUR TIME, SO GET LOST! I’M A MESS NOW, JUST LIKE YOU SAID—“

Then she stopped.

Her eyes flickered with something new.

“…Or wait…”

She took a step forward.

Then another.

Yuuto barely had time to react before she was in front of him, pressing him against the wall.

She was close—too close. Her breath warm against his skin, her hands moving to his chest, tracing over the fabric of his white, long-sleevedshirt.

“S-so muscular… Haha… Maybe you’re here… because you want me…?” Her voice wavered, trembling between hysteria and something dangerously intimate.

Her hands slid lower. Her breath was uneven, her gaze locked onto his.

“That makes things simple, doesn’t it?”

She let out a shuddering breath.

“I’m vulnerable right now…” she murmured, her fingers curling against his torso.

She tilted her head back, eyes locking onto his.

“Go ahead.” Her grin was wild, unhinged. “See if you can fix me properly this time.“

Then—she stopped.

Her smirk vanished.

Her breath hitched.

Her mouth parted slightly as she finally saw it.

Yuuto’s eyes.

And the tears welling in them. His expression remained unchanged, though.

“S-Sakurai…?” Sakura’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

A single tear slipped down Yuuto’s cheek.

Her breath hitched. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out, her fingertips brushing against his skin as she wiped it away—

Then, Yuuto shoved her hand aside.

Not just her hand—her entire body.

Before she could react, he was already moving.

He bolted for the door, his gaze locked to the ground, his breath sharp.

Minoru stood just outside, watching. He had time to react, time to stop him—but he didn’t as he stood outside of Sakura’s door.

He simply stepped aside, silently letting Yuuto pass as he rushed toward the main entrance of the house.

[Warning: Rape, Drug use.]

Defeated.

The boy looked down, unsure how to react. The breath of life had escaped him, his chest hollow as the sound of flesh striking flesh echoed through the room.

“Ahh… Ahh… Please… Stop… Hnnng… Haruto is… here…!”

Himiko gasped between ragged breaths, her feverish body slick with sweat, glistening in the dim light.

Once, she had begged the man to stop—her tear-streaked eyes pleading for mercy.

Now, she begged for Haruto to be let out. Her wide, trembling eyes locked onto him, desperate, pitiful—like a wounded pup.

“And soon, she’ll beg to keep going,” a voice murmured through the haze of cigarette smoke. “Whether you see it or not.”

A man exhaled slowly, the ember at the tip of his cigarette glowing in the darkness. His tone was almost casual, as if discussing the weather.

“You get where we’re going with this, right, Mr. Narukami? Tell us. Who is “Anti-NTR Man”. The one that killed Kazuki’s gang and Kyoya Guuji.”

Haruto stood rigid, his gaze vacant, his body shaking as the brute leaned in close to Himiko.

A low chuckle rumbled from the man’s throat, his breath hot against her skin.

“Tch. You’ve really been depriving your mommy by removing Kyoya, eh?” His voice was laced with mockery. “All those nights, I bet she was just dying for him to return. He was more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Look at him, Himiko. Look at your sweet little boy watching you. Look at how fucking useless he is.”

Himiko’s body stiffened. Her lips quivered. But she didn’t look at Haruto.

Not anymore.

The brute bared his teeth in a wicked grin.

“I bet deep down, you’re relieved, huh? Finally, a real man. One who knows what to do with you. And not that selfish little wimp.”

Himiko’s breath hitched. She shook her head weakly, her lips parting in a broken gasp.

“He’s not… Selfis—”

Her words crumbled as the man shoved his tongue in her mouth.

“Shut up and suck on it, bitch. I know you like it.”

Haruto’s breath caught.

He wasn’t just watching her body be taken.

He was watching something far worse.

Something inside her break.

Himiko’s eyes flickered toward him—one final, fleeting look.

Her heart had pounded for him once.

Now, it pounded harder, but it happened once she was kissed by the brute.

“Haruto… Haruto…”

“Man, this bitch really is strong, huh?”

The brute smirked as he pulled back, their lips parting—a thin string of saliva still connecting them.

His eyes gleamed with something vile.

“Takes quite a while to break a woman like this… but she will break.”

He raised his free hand, fingers hovering over the small bag beside him.

“And if I just do this—”

His fingers dipped inside. A fine white powder clung to his fingertips.

“WAIT!!! WAIT! PLEASE—!”

Haruto’s scream tore through the suffocating air. His body lunged forward instinctively, but the restraints held firm, biting into his skin.

The brute paused, turning his head.

Two sets of eyes landed on Haruto.

A slow smile crept onto the man’s lips.

Haruto’s chest heaved. His vision swam. His pulse pounded so hard it hurt.

“H-his name… is…”

His throat clenched. His tongue felt leaden.

His mother’s eyes flickered toward him—pleading, desperate, barely holding on.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“His name was… Sakurai.” His voice came out hoarse. “He lives on Shadow Street. 1st.“

Silence.

A slow drag. The ember of a cigarette glowed in the dimness.

“… Huh.”

The man exhaled smoke, watching it swirl in the stagnant air.

“Sakurai, huh?”

He flicked the cigarette to the floor.

“Thanks.”

Then, with a lazy gesture, he turned toward the towering, dark-skinned man standing behind Himiko.

“Oliver, you can finish her if you want. Remember to put him in the ground as well.”

Haruto’s breath failed him.

“WAIT—NO! YOU PROMISED!!!”

His scream cracked, raw and desperate. He thrashed violently, the ropes digging deep into his wrists.

But the man wasn’t listening.

“H-Haruto…”

Himiko’s voice barely carried over the chaos. Her lips parted, trembling.

The sneering brute loomed over her. His grip tightened.

Then—the powder met her skin.

A sharp inhale.

A single breath.

Her pupils dilated instantly.

Her body trembled.

Her lips quivered—then parted into a slow, blissful smile.

“Don’t… look… I love you…”

Then, she wasn’t there anymore.

The final thread snapped.

A wicked chuckle.

“Do you?” Oliver sneered, pressing in closer, deeper.

“Or do you prefer my cock more?”

Haruto’s vision blurred. His body locked up.

His breath turned shallow.

And then—the words that shattered him.

“Haru… Y-… Your cock…!! Haah… It… Feels so good..!!”

“SAY YOU HATE YOUR SON IF YOU WANT ME TO KEEP GOING!”
“I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM SO MUUUUCH <3”

She moaned.

She smiled.

The world collapsed.

A deafening ringing filled his ears.

“Now then. Let’s go and meet you, Mr. Sakurai.” The man muttered as he walked out of the Narukami household.

---

I have an important announcement regarding the direction of this novel.

A while back, when Chapter 76 was first released, I made a bold and drastic turn in the story. In the original version of the chapter, Sakura succumbed to the drug and had intercourse with Konro who was also hit with it. Minoru underestimated his opponents and was beaten. This led to Minoru entering a fit of rage, going on a killing spree, and escalating the intensity of the plot significantly.

The reaction to this was divisive. Some of you expressed distress and frustration, with comments like, “It turned into an NTR novel.” or, “This is just for shock factor. I’m disappointed in you, Author.” And, of course, the ever-common, “I’m dropping the novel. Bye.” In response to that feedback, I made significant changes to the chapter and shifted the story’s direction entirely, giving readers a much more favorable outcome than originally intended.

To this day, I regret that decision; even if the original chapter was “bad”.

Since then, I’ve hesitated to take bold moves in the narrative. I held back, worried about upsetting readers—or, truthfully, worried about how their reactions would affect me. This reluctance led to a feeling of staleness in the story, with minor risks and no real progress. None of the main cast were ever in real danger simply because they were well-liked.

My original vision for Yuuto was, to put it bluntly, that he was a flawed person who fancied himself perfect. That means he is bound to lose a lot, to face significant challenges and painful losses—not an untouchable, unyielding figure protected by plot armor, but a broken vase held together by duct tape.

That experience, Yuuto’s original vision, and the frustration caused by deviating from it taught me an important lesson, and I want to be upfront with you all about it:

Whether I fully agree with my original version back then or not today; I will not compromise my story again.

I understand that darker themes and challenging moments can be polarizing—especially given the themes here.

But for this novel to truly be an Anti-NTR story, it must confront those elements head-on. That means I won’t shy away from writing uncomfortable or intense scenes when they are integral to the narrative. That includes NTR moments.

For those of you who have stuck with the novel until now, I deeply appreciate your support, and I hope you’ll continue to enjoy the journey. I’m always open to constructive criticism and dialogue, but from this point forward, I will no longer make drastic changes out of fear of backlash or people dropping the novel. The story will remain true to the vision I have for it.

Thank you for understanding, and I hope you’ll join me as the story moves forward.

Now, for the rest of the chapter.

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“Sakurai!”

Shun’s voice rang out, but Yuuto didn’t stop. He pushed forward, slipping past him as the murmuring students gradually dispersed.

Sato had arrived just in time, spinning a plausible excuse—this was all part of the Culture Club’s performance.

A convenient lie. One that everyone nodded along to, despite the unease still lingering in the air.

Shiyon had no choice but to accept it.

But the ones from Class 3-1, the ones who had seen Yuuto’s fist slam into Gon’s face, weren’t so easily convinced.

The contempt in their eyes had shifted.

Now, instead of looking down on him—they watched him with uneasy curiosity.

“There’s more to it.” That thought flickered through many minds.

Yuuto walked past them—past Shun, Riko, Miyuki—his footsteps heavy.

“Going home. Feeling like shit.”

The words came out flat, devoid of care, as he marched forward, brushing past them without a second glance.

“Sakurai-senpai.”

Sato’s voice called out from behind. His footsteps quickened as he caught up, placing a hand lightly on Yuuto’s shoulder.

He hesitated, then asked, “The sports festival is today… You’re not coming?”

Yuuto slowed his stride, turning his head just enough to glance at him.

His eyes—half-lidded, unreadable, completely unbothered—lingered for a second. Then he remembered.

Attendance.

He exhaled through his nose.

“I have to take a really hard shit. I’ll be back once I’m done.” Silence.

Sato simply sighed, rubbing his temples. “Right.”

Sato didn’t press further as Yuuto turned away, walking off until he began to fade from sight.

Then, just as casually—”Tell me how she’s doing while you’re at it?”

His tone was light, but the relief in his smile was unmistakable.

Yuuto didn’t reply. His head almost gave the slightest nod—just enough to be noticed, but not enough to confirm anything.

Then, just before he disappeared—

“Poop can’t talk, dumbass.” Yuuto let out.

Sato sighed, shaking his head.

A few steps later, Yuuto’s shoulder collided with Gon’s.

“Pillow.”

Gon’s voice was low, seething. His glare burned into Yuuto as he stood his ground.

“I collaborated with you. You promised. Now spill—everything you’ve got on Black Letter.”

Yuuto didn’t stop. “Nope.”

His tone was flat, dismissive. “We’re done. Forget it.”

“IF YOU WON’T TELL ME, THEN I’LL—”

“You’ll what?”

Yuuto turned, his cold, sharp gaze slicing through Gon’s words like a blade.

“Tell your aniki you lied to his face about what really happened? About me?”

Yuuto stepped closer, a slow, wicked smirk curling at his lips.

“Let me make something clear—I’d prefer if my rep stayed the way it is.”

His tone was casual, almost amused.

“Prefer. Not need. If you wanna tell the world I beat your ass, be my guest. I wonder…” His smirk widened.

“Which one of us do you think that’ll hurt more?”

Gon’s jaw clenched. His fists trembled at his sides.

“…!!! YOU BASTARD…! IS THAT WHAT YOU PLANNED ALL ALONG!?”

His growl came out hoarse, his breath ragged with fury.

Yuuto chuckled darkly.

“I wonder what your Aniki will do once he realizes you lied. First, I imagine he’ll strip you outta your band. Then…” Yuuto tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting. “Maybe a beatdown?”

Gon’s face twisted. His teeth bared.

“YOU… YOU FUCKING PROMISED!! YOU PROMISED TO TELL ME!!”

Yuuto’s smirk didn’t waver.

“I lied. That a shock to you?” he said dismissively as he turned around and walked away, leaving Gon confused and furious—but frozen, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Before long, Yuuto arrived at Sakura’s house. He stood outside, staring at the window for a moment.

‘I’ll just climb up, take a look, and run…’

But as his eyes lingered on the window, he hesitated. He remembered the way she had rushed out of school, how anxious she seemed.

‘She might not even be home. Instead of risking getting caught by her family, I’ll just act normal. Just a classmate checking up on her.’

Sighing, he stepped forward and rang the doorbell at the entrance to the yard.

A few seconds later, a high-pitched voice answered, “Who is this..?”

‘Her sister.’ he deduced.

“My name is Sakurai. I came to check up on Sakura.”

“Haha, your name is just like hers!” She expressed with a chuckle via the intercom.

There was a brief rustling, followed by a muffled voice. “Brother, what are you doing—”

Yuuto raised an eyebrow at the sounds of more movement.

“…?”

Then, a calmer but noticeably more mature voice came through the intercom. “…Who did you say you were?”

“Sakurai. I came to check up on her since she ran out of school without an explanation. Is she home?”

‘Hmm… She has a stepbrother if I’m not mistaken. Why don’t I remember finding out about him in my espionage?’ Yuuto thought.

“…You say ‘her’ like I know who you mean. You a pedo or something?” the voice asked with a low growl.

“Are you retarde—” Yuuto began to say, before being cut off by the little sister.

“BROTHER! He probably meant big sis—”

“My little angel, I just want to protect you. That person was very cryptic. What if he means harm? What if he means harm to you? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. You have to watch out for people like him—”

“BIG SIS IS IN HER ROOM IF YOU WANT TO VISIT!” the high-pitched voice suddenly shouted through the intercom.

Yuuto’s expression remained deadpan as he exhaled through his nose.

‘I guess crazed people like them exist.’ <—- A crazed person.

The door clicked open, and Yuuto stepped into the yard. Before he could reach the entrance, the door swung open.

Minoru stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his silver hair catching the light. Behind him, his younger sister, Shiori, peeked over his shoulder.

His expression was lazy, yet sharp. Yuuto approached without much thought, unconcerned.

Shiori glanced up at her brother. She noticed it immediately—the subtle shift in his posture, the way his eyes visibly tensed at the sight of Yuuto.

“I’m Sakurai. Nice to meet you,” Yuuto said casually, stopping in front of Minoru.

Minoru remained silent, his gaze steady—calculating.

Yuuto observed him in turn.

‘Untrusting, huh?’ he noted, narrowing his eyes slightly. ‘That, and he looks kind of strong.’

Yuuto could just tell. ‘If I had to guess… about as strong as Harvester? No… even stronger, probably.‘

‘He’s not someone I want as an enemy. For now.’

Without a word, Yuuto lowered his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. From it, he retrieved his ID card.

‘At least I won’t have to waste my resources protecting her if he’s around.’

He held up the card.

“Here,” he said evenly. “I’m not someone shady.”

Minoru took the card, his fingers brushing against Yuuto’s as he did.

And then—a barely perceptible flinch.

So brief, so minuscule that only Shiori noticed.

‘Brother…?’ She tilted her head slightly, sensing something was off.

“If I’m intruding,” Yuuto began, “just tell me if she’s fine, and I’ll leave—”

“Fine. You can see her.” Minoru interjected, handing the card back with a measured ease.

Yuuto raised an eyebrow. “I said, it’s fine if I’m intruding—”

“You’re not intruding. Just get in.” Minoru sighed, looking away as he stepped back inside.

Shiori hesitated for a moment before moving aside, her gaze flicking between her brother and Yuuto, confusion evident in her expression.

“She’s upstairs,” Minoru said, nodding toward the staircase as he walked ahead.

‘Awfully receptive, aren’t you?’ Yuuto thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. ‘Such a weakness. What if I was actually shady and knew how to cover my tracks?’

His gaze lingered on Minoru’s back as they ascended the stairs. ‘Is he just lenient, maybe?’

After a moment, Yuuto spoke up. “Ah, I forgot to ask for your name.”

Minoru didn’t respond at first.

Then, after a beat—

“…It’s Minoru. Nice to meet you.” His voice was quiet, restrained, his head kept facing forward as they neared Sakura’s room.

Yuuto’s expression remained neutral, but a thought flickered in his mind.

‘Didn’t he call me a pedo a few moments ago?’

He glanced at Minoru, studying him. ‘What’s with this guy? Bipolar, maybe?’

Pushing the thought aside, he stopped in front of Sakura’s door.

“Sakura. You’ve got a visitor,” Minoru said.

“…I can’t see anyone.” Her voice was quiet, almost lifeless. “Even if it’s Yahiko. Tell them to go away.”

“…It’s me.”

Yuuto’s voice cut through the stillness.

A quiet gasp escaped from inside the room.

“I just came to see if you were okay. I saw, so I’ll leave—”

“…You can come in.”

Her reply was barely above a whisper.

Yuuto flinched slightly, discomfort tightening his chest. ‘Damn it. Just let me leave. I got what I came for.’

Without hesitation, Minoru pushed the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.

Yuuto stepped inside, his posture unchanged. The door clicked shut behind him.

‘So… why did I walk in just now?’

“…Hey,” Yuuto said, his voice uncharacteristically timid as he stood in the midst of the disorganized room.

Sakura sat in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, barely acknowledging his presence.

‘Okay. Now what?’