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“I ain’t tellin’ nobody ta accept nothin’! What’re ya yammerin’ about?” Sendo mumbled, turning to face a visibly troubled young man from a different class.

Meanwhile, Sato and Yuuto hurried down to get a closer look at the unfolding drama. A young man, about the same age as Sendo, was pointing his wooden sword at him, his stance challenging yet uncertain.

“I… I don’t accept…” he stammered, his body shaking slightly in his full Kendo gear.

‘Hmm, must be a Kendo club member, but I don’t recognize him. Maybe he’s new?’ Yuuto thought, surveying the scene.

“Accept what? Out with ya, man!” Sendo urged, his words clear despite his accent. The Kendo club members had formed a circle around them, with the Culture Club members joining the onlookers.

‘Not the best choice of words, Sendo…’ Yuuto mused inwardly.

“Out with me, huh…? Yeah… I guess you wouldn’t want me in the Kendo club…” the young man, Kenichi, murmured, his gaze dropping and his grip on the wooden sword tightening. “Wait, I ain’t meant dat like—” Sendo started, but Kenichi, misunderstanding, cut him off. “And I get it, especially with you and Hina dating recently!”

The surrounding crowd began to murmur among themselves.

Approaching the Culture Club with Sato, Yuuto noticed Hiyori’s barely contained annoyance as she crossed her arms.

“Hey, Hicchi…” Sato started, Hiyori’s cheeks began to fill with blush as she heard his voice… but he was interrupted by Yuuto.

“Hey, Heroine. What’s going on here? You look like you know something.”

Hiyori sighed, any trace of a blush quickly fading from her cheeks as she fixed Yuuto with a look that swiftly morphed into mild annoyance.

“What’s it to you?” she asked, her tone edged with irritation.

“I’m thinking of using this as material for a script. You know, for my adult-doujin artist friend,” Yuuto replied nonchalantly.

“Back to that website of yours again, Sakurai?” Shun interjected, a note of exasperation in his voice.

“Always. Got to earn my keep somehow,” Yuuto retorted with a shrug.

Around them, a collective thought seemed to hang in the air – Yuuto represented exactly the type of adult they all hoped never to become.

“I-I can’t believe I have a Senpai as depraved as you…” Chiyoko mumbled, visibly shivering before she instinctively took a small step away from Yuuto.

“Ew. Do you have to make that, like, your whole personality?” Hiyori chided, her eyes narrowing as she subtly turned her head to distance herself from Yuuto.

Shun let out a weary sigh, the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders.

“Look, it’s pretty straightforward stuff, Sakurai. I doubt you’ll find anything new in this mess. Guy’s been childhood friends with a girl, she ends up falling for someone else – that someone being Sendo. And the left-behind friend? That’s Kenichi right there, he chose the day Hina didn’t show up for practice to do this, it seems.” Shun explained, casting a glance over the unfolding drama.

“Referring to yourself in the third person now, cuckoo?” Yuuto quipped, a faint snicker playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Shut up. My situation was completely different…”

“…” Yuuto raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Alright, slightly different. But still different.”

Hiyori raised an eyebrow, looking between them.

“Are you sure it’s wise to feed him this info, Shicchi? What if he uses it for something weird..?”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s not like Sakurai’s going to name names in whatever he comes up with.”

“I just might.”

“… Just don’t, okay?”

Sendo was visibly losing his patience.

“I like Hina, so I asked her out. She said yes, that’s all there is to it. I ain’t about to worry over who she’s friends with. If she’d said no, I’d have backed off. Simple as dat.”

“You think I’ll believe that!? Hina wasn’t just a friend! She was my best friend, more than that! She was my everything! You just came and took her away! Did you… Did you manipulate her or something?”

‘Sendo, manipulating someone? Really?’ Yuuto thought, shaking his head internally.

“Ah… She can still be your everything! I ain’t stolen her or anything, we’re just dating and-” Sendo paused, glancing around as if searching for the right words. His eyes landed on Yuuto, and his face lit up with a smile, sending an unexpected chill down Yuuto’s spine.

‘Oh, no, no, no…’

“Ah, Senpai! Yer ‘ere for my Kendo club, right? Can ya give me a hand?” Sendo called out.

‘Dammit, Sendo!’ Yuuto thought, quickly averting his gaze as soon as Sendo looked his way.

“Senpai? Who’s he talking about?” Chiyoko whispered, her eyes darting between Shun and Sato. Hiyori, equally curious, followed Chiyoko’s gaze, leading Sendo’s attention to the Culture Club and drawing all eyes to them.

“Shicchi, are you guys friends or something?”

“Uh, not really… We’ve only met a couple of times. Me? Friends with Sendo-kun?” Shun questioned, pointing at himself in confusion. Meanwhile, Kenichi’s gaze remained intensely focused on Sendo.

“Senpaiii, over here! I really need your help!” Sendo persisted, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Yuuto.

“No one’s going to bail you out of this, Sendo! We’ll settle it with a fight! If I win, you leave Hina alone!” Kenichi declared with determination.

As Sendo’s gaze lingered on Yuuto, the others followed suit, their expressions turning to realization as they spotted Yuuto.

The members of the Kendo club began whispering among themselves.

“The weirdo from Class 3-1?”

“The anime pillow guy?”

‘Ah, damn it, Sendo. Why’d you have to drag me into this…?’ Yuuto thought, a sense of frustration building within him.

“N-no way… Sakurai?” Hiyori whispered in disbelief, her eyes widening. Chiyoko, her imagination running wild, pictured Yuuto in a black tuxedo, offering risqué doujins to an unsuspecting Sendo. She felt a pang of sadness at her own mental image.

“Ooh!” Sato exclaimed, his eyes flicking to Yuuto in surprise.

‘Great. Now they all think I’m some sort of romance guru… I mean, I am… But not for childish stuff like this.’ Yuuto thought, his annoyance growing.

“Yelling about a weirdo won’t change anything, Sendo! I’m not letting myself get sidetracked by that.”

“Hey, Senpai might be odd, but he’s got a knack for romantic stuff,” Sendo blurted out, causing a ripple of surprise among the crowd.

With a resigned sigh, Yuuto stepped forward. The members of the Kendo club parted, creating a path for him.

“Senpai, how ya been?” Sendo greeted him casually.

Yuuto took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of my methods, Sendo,” he said in a low voice, only for Sendo to hear.

“I know, I know, but I’m at a loss here. I don’t want to fight Kenichi unless I absolutely have to… And you seem to have a handle on these kinds of things,” Sendo replied, his voice just loud enough for the others to overhear.

‘Tactless little…!!’ Yuuto thought, then raised his voice to match Sendo’s. “You’re both just kids. I’m not getting involved in children’s squabbles. Figure it out on your own and learn from it. That’s my advice,” he declared, turning to leave.

“Wait, Senpai-“

“STOP IGNORING ME!!!” Kenichi’s shout cut through the air, echoing across the stadium and bringing a sudden silence.

All eyes instantly turned to Kenichi, the shock palpable among the crowd.

“I… I love her… You just swept her away.. Just because you’re good at some stupid Kendo… Because of this shit club… If it wasn’t for all of this, she’d still be with me—”

Kenichi’s voice was charged with emotion, his words laced with bitterness. But it was Sendo’s reaction that stunned everyone. In a blur of motion, Sendo struck Kenichi on the head with the side of his wooden sword, knocking him to the ground in one fluid, swift movement.

“Uh, what just happened!?” Chiyoko exclaimed, her eyes wide in disbelief at Sendo’s speed.

“I didn’t even see him move…!” Hiyori added, her gaze fixed on the scene.

‘He’s gotten faster…’ Yuuto observed, feeling a gust of wind ruffle his fake hair following Sendo’s strike. ‘He used the side of the sword to lessen the blow… Still, I’ve never seen him this enraged. Not even at the hospital. I guess he really does have nothing but Kendo on his mind, that simpleton.’

Sendo looked down at Kenichi, who was still trying to recover on the floor, his hand going to his forehead to check for blood.

“Relax. Didn’t hit ya that hard,” Sendo said calmly, his voice steady.

Kenichi looked up at Sendo, his expression a mix of pain and defiance.

“I don’t care if ya got a crush you ain’t never confessed to. It don’ matter to me if she’s your whole world. She can be whatever you want ‘er to be – a friend, a lover, a mother figure, whatever.”

“But talk smack about Kendo or this club again, and next time Imma hit ya harder,” Sendo warned, his stance resolute. Kenichi, silent, ground his teeth in frustration.

“Now, get up and—”

“Y-you… You’re just a bully… A delinquent with no parents… A nobody!” Kenichi spat out, tears brimming in his eyes. Sendo stood still, his wooden sword pointed at him. The whole group surrounding them watched without a word.

“Just some orphan punk… Got into a good school because you’re strong. Without that, you’re nothing.”

“That’s enough,” a calm, authoritative voice interjected. It was Yuuto, stepping into the center of the circle.

“I usually don’t get involved in kids’ fights, but you’re wrong about two things. First, being an orphan or fatherless, like you, doesn’t define a person’s worth. Sendo’s not just that,” Yuuto stated, walking over to Sendo, whose face was an unreadable mask. He casually placed his hand on Sendo’s head, seemingly contradicting his earlier disinterest.

“Second, Sendo as a manipulator? That’s a laugh. He’s tactless, straightforward, naive, and, frankly, kind of a moron. His brain’s more sword than sense. The only manipulation he’s capable of is probably coaxing someone to join the Kendo club.”

“…But more than anything,” Yuuto continued, his speech seeming to inadvertently ease the tension. The Kendo club members nodded along, some agreement apparent in their expressions.

Shun watched Yuuto, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. Hiyori and Chiyoko, who had been skeptical of Yuuto, began to reconsider their opinions of this unconventional guy.

“He’s not the type to pull off what you’d call classic NTRing.” As soon as Yuuto dropped the term ‘NTR,’ whispers erupted amongst the crowd. Confusion mixed with a tinge of disgust flickered across Hiyori and Chiyoko’s faces.

“NTR?”

“Cuckoldry? But isn’t this more unrequited love than anything else?”

Shun felt his optimism deflate.

‘Oh no, not this… Just when things were looking up…’

Yuuto, seemingly oblivious to the shifting mood, pressed on.

“He’s too dim-witted for that.”

Sendo, growing increasingly uncomfortable, tried to interject.

“Uh, Senpai?”

“His IQ’s at room temperature, MAX” Yuuto remarked, unfazed.

“Senpai, please, that’s not very kind—”

“He’s not the mastermind you’re making him out to be. Accusing this single-brain-celled neanderthal of orchestrating some grand scheme to win over your childhood friend? That’s absurd.”

“Senpai, I think he understands—”

“Seriously, if she chose him, it says more about you than him.”

Shun watched the scene unfold with a sense of deflation. ‘Ahh… He just had to ruin it. We were almost in a perfect slice-of-life manga moment, and he just trashed it…’ he thought, a sense of resignation washing over him.

“Stop bad-mouthing Sendo, you asshole!”

“Age doesn’t matter! You can’t just insult Sendo like that and get away with it! You can be an adult or a little kid!”

The crowd began to close in around Yuuto, their expressions a mix of indignation and protectiveness.

In response, Yuuto nonchalantly pulled out his phone and started recording.

“Ah, ah, ahh! Touch me and I’ll be straight to the principal’s office with this,” he warned, brandishing his phone like a shield.

Hiyori, Shun, and Chiyoko watched from a distance, appalled by the example Yuuto was setting for the younger students.

“Hah,” Sato chuckled, observing from the sidelines.

Shun glanced over at him. “What’s funny, Sato-kun?”

“Oh, nothing much… It’s just interesting to see how Yuuto’s intervention shifted the focus from Kenichi’s outburst. He has a unique way of defusing situations,” Sato remarked, his smile unwavering as he watched the Kendo club and Sendo’s attention turn from Kenichi to Yuuto.

“Uhm, no, Sato-kun. I get your enthusiasm, but that was 100% a fluke.”

“MAYBE! I still like it, though!”

“Hehe… Well. I agree, it’s somewhat calmer now.” Shun replied as Yuuto slowly backed away from the stadium, the phone is held steadily in his palm, as if he’s wielding a riot-shield – keeping the angry Kendo club at bay.

“…Somewhat.”

Kenichi sat on the floor, visibly shaken, his gaze fixed downward in a mix of shame and disbelief.

“Kenichi,” Sendo spoke softly as he sheathed his Kendo sword and walked over to him.

“What do you want? Came to gloat?” Kenichi responded bitterly, forcing a smile as he averted his eyes.

“Don’t quit Kendo ‘cus of me,” Sendo urged gently.

“…What…?” Kenichi looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Hina really liked Kendo. She said it changed her life. She was da first person, apart from my Aniki, who really got it. She’d come to watch practices, her eyes lightin’ up whenever I swung the sword. She always wanted ta try Kendo but never found the time until recently…”

The Culture Club members exchanged glances, a collective realization dawning on them. ‘Sendo was the one being manipulated all along…’

“What’s your point…? Are you trying to rub it in?” Kenichi’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt.

“Noh, man, that’s not it,” Sendo replied, scratching his head in frustration, his eyes searching the ceiling for the right words. “I noticed ya joined Kendo for ‘er. I held back my feelings for Hina because I saw you were enjoying Kendo and ya’ might quit if I did dat… So, just don’t quit because of her-“

“Shut up!” Kenichi yelled, cutting Sendo off as he stood up, his Kendo sword clenched tightly in his hand.

“Just… just leave me alone!” he muttered, his voice breaking as he walked past the stunned onlookers and out of the stadium, leaving behind a confused and concerned crowd in his wake.

Chiyoko cautiously approached Sendo, concern etched on her face.

“Are you really okay with letting him go like that, Sendo-kun?”

Sendo offered a warm, reassuring smirk.

“Yah… Look, he’s still carryin’ his Kendo sword with ‘im.”

“… Seriously? Is Kendo all you ever think about? You could be easily exploited (again) if you keep being so simple-minded… You’re lucky Hina’s harmless…” She replied with a sigh.

“Eh? Was’ dat supposed ta’ mean, Chiyo?”

Meanwhile, at a distant corner of the stadium near the opposite entrance, a striking figure stood watching the scene unfold. A tall, lean foreigner with pale-white skin, piercing blue eyes, and natural, smooth blonde hair adorned with piercings observed the events with an intrigued smile.

(In English)”…I thought I’d give my cute little brother Sendo a surprise visit after my long trip in South America…”

“But an interesting character caught my eye… He actually managed to keep up with Sendo’s attack…”

“Why do we even have to sit through their practice, Sato? Can’t Shuncuck here just record it and we watch it later at our own pace?” Yuuto questioned, his arms crossed confidently as he lounged in the gymnasium’s spectator seats. Below, Sendo’s team was in the throes of practice, their movements a blur of energy and focus. Shun, camera in hand, captured each moment while casting a resigned sigh at Yuuto’s remark.

Sato, ever the diplomat, flashed a smile. “Oh? In that case, I guess you’ll volunteer to film it yourself, Senpai, since you brought up the idea?”

‘That sly fox… No way am I spending time alone with that dimwit Sendo,’ Yuuto thought, grumbling internally.

“…Watching it live is fine,” he conceded, retracting his previous suggestion. They were a group of five perched on the sidelines of the large gym – Sato, Shun, Yuuto, Chiyoko, and Hiyori. Chiyoko couldn’t help but giggle, amused by Yuuto’s sudden change of heart, and Sato’s quick witted response.

Sato chuckled at Yuuto’s begrudging concession, his attention returning to the ongoing practice as he scribbled in his notebook.

“You know, thanks to Sendo-kun, our school’s Kendo club is climbing the ranks. He’s got a real knack for drawing people in, both to his club and to the sport. He’s talented with both people and the sword. It’s no wonder he’s rallying so much support,” Sato commented, his voice brimming with genuine enthusiasm.

“Huuuhh… Sounds like you’re quite the fanboy, Sakkun,” Hiyori remarked, her pen pausing on the page of her notebook as she cast a brief glance at Sato’s animated expression.

Sato laughed, unabashed. “Guilty as charged! But really, he’s transformed the club’s atmosphere. It’s vibrant, full of life now. Members are more committed, showing up every day. Even when Sendo was recovering and bandaged, he never missed a practice. He’s a true inspiration. I hope I can emulate that kind of dedication one day.”

Yuuto listened, his mind spinning a different narrative. ‘The classic main-character strategy: “So many are better than me; I’m just a humble participant.” Grade C+. It’s all about appearing modest to seem more approachable. In reality, he’s not genuinely invested in Sendo or his talents; he’s just using Sendo’s charm to bolster his own down-to-earth image. A classic manipulation technique.’

Yuuto glanced at Shun with a raised brow, his arms still folded across his chest. “Hey, cuckoo, I thought you were beefing up for your girlfriend. What’s a guy like you doing in the Culture Club? Shouldn’t you be swinging a sword in the Kendo club instead?” His tone was laced with disinterest, his face betraying no particular emotion.

Shun, his eyes still fixed on the team he was filming, responded without looking away from the camera. “Sakurai… life’s not some sports manga. I can’t just walk around with a sword all day. I’d look like a die-hard Sendo groupie. Figured joining a boxing gym would make more sense, so I did—joined one nearby.”

“A boxing gym?” Yuuto’s voice trailed off, his gaze drifting off to some distant point as he considered this.

“Yeah, Megano’s Boxing Gym. Why?” Shun replied, pausing to glance at Yuuto, noting, somewhat puzzled, the lack of a typical jibe.

“Nothing, just thought I might’ve known a place for you. Could’ve gotten you a discount or something. But they’re out of business now,” Yuuto said, his eyes shifting to the ceiling, seemingly disengaged.

Shun narrowed his eyes, resignation apparent on his face. “Then why even mention it…”

Hiyori couldn’t help but interject, a snicker escaping her lips. “You really live up to your reputation as the class weirdo, Sakurai.”

“Yeah, whatever, main heroine,” Yuuto drawled, directing a disinterested glance at Hiyori.

“Heroine..?” Hiyori echoed, her eyebrows arching in surprise.

“Yeah. Isn’t it obvious? You and main-character Sato here seem pretty cozy. That whole tsundere act defending your ‘Sakkun’ from big, bad me earlier?” Yuuto quipped, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

‘Take that, heroine.’

Both Hiyori and Sato flushed a deep red at his words.

“M-main char…” Sato stammered, his gaze darting away from Hiyori, his smile strained and awkward. Hiyori mirrored his reaction, her face equally flushed.

Beside them, Chiyoko clenched her fists tightly, teeth gritted in silent frustration, her eyes fixed on the ground.

Shun, watching the scene unfold, smiled wryly to himself. ‘There it goes, Sakurai’s classic manga-to-reality comparison. Why stir up drama like this?’

An awkward silence enveloped the group for a few seconds, only broken by Yuuto’s subtle, triumphant grin.

‘Heh, that ought to ruffle some feathers.’

“W-Well… I-If Sakkun sees me as the main heroine, or… whatever… to his main character… I don’t know…” Hiyori stumbled over her words, her voice trailing off into uncertainty.

At her admission, Sato slowly turned his head back towards her, his heart thudding audibly in his chest.

‘Oh?’ Yuuto perked up internally, keenly observing the unfolding drama. He was about to hear something interesting when…

“… Then I-I wouldn’t really mind—”

“OKAAAY! Everyone!” Chiyoko’s voice abruptly cut through the air, shattering the delicate moment. She leapt from her seat with a burst of enthusiasm. “Shouldn’t we get some close-up footage of Sendo-kun’s team? I’ll head down and see if we can grab spots near them!” Her words echoed in the gym, drowning out Hiyori’s near-confession.

The tension that had been building between Sato and Hiyori dissipated instantly, replaced by Chiyoko’s infectious cheer and energy.

“Uhm, I-..I’ll come with you, Chiyokki,” Hiyori quickly interjected, shaking her head as if to clear it. Her face wore a hint of disappointment, and she carefully avoided Sato’s gaze.

‘So, little miss first-year has a thing for Sakkun, huh? Had to cut in to save herself some embarrassment… Interesting,’ Yuuto mused silently.

“O-oh! Th-then, I’ll join you! Better to be on standby if he says yes,” Shun chimed in, quickly powering down his video camera and making his way down the stairs. This left Sato and Yuuto as the only ones in the spectator seats.

“Welp,” Yuuto uttered, stretching his arms and preparing to stand up.

“We…” Sato’s voice halted him mid-motion.

“We aren’t like that, Senpai,” Sato mumbled, his eyes fixed on his notebook, avoiding Yuuto’s gaze.

“..Hm?”

“I mean, it might look like Hiyori and I are close… Or could be… more than that. But she’s my sister.”

The words tumbled out in a rush.

“You ain’t fooling anyone. You two have different last names,” Yuuto retorted, tilting his head skeptically, a frown creasing his brow.

‘And I did a thorough background check on all of you during my extended bathroom break,’ he thought smugly, disgustingly.

“Hehe… What I meant is, she’s like an older sister to me, metaphorically speaking. We’ve been like that since kindergarten. She’s a third year, I’m a second year. It’s too… different for anything else. I don’t want to ruin what we have. Our current bond is nice,” Sato explained, his eyes following Hiyori from a distance, a warm smile playing on his lips as their group mingled with the Kendo club.

Yuuto internally rolled his eyes, unimpressed with Sato’s explanation.

‘Everyone here knows she would’ve banged you on the spot if you just said you liked her. Are you an idiot? The only reason it didn’t happen is because you didn’t say anything like a retard after that first-year brat cock-blocked you two,’ Yuuto thought that he thought that as he tilted his head, scrutinizing Sato.

“Haha… I… E… EH…? W-what..?” Sato mumbled, his face turning a deep shade of red as he registered what Yuuto had said.

‘Oh, did I say that one out loud?’ Yuuto wondered to himself.

“I sneezed. I said, ‘You and her are stuck in a rut without a clue.’,” he covered up quickly, his pronunciation more pronounced and clear.

“Ah… R-Right… Y-you couldn’t have said anything else before tha-..” Sato stuttered, his forehead beaded with sweat.

“No.” Yuuto replied flatly, not a hint of hesitation in his voice as he stood up, adjusting his fake glasses.

“Y-you definitely said—” Sato began, but his words were abruptly cut off.

“I WON’T ACCEPT YOU, SENDO! FIGHT ME!” The sudden shout tore through the air, slicing through the tense atmosphere between Yuuto and Sato. Both instinctively snapped their heads toward the source of the commotion below.

“What’s going on down there?” Sato asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.

The principal’s office was draped in an austere silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic tapping of the principal’s fingers against the polished mahogany table. 

Yuuto was sitting on the opposite end of the table, his expression, a canvas of boredom mixed with a tinge of defiance, contrasted starkly against the principal’s stern demeanor. 

The principal, an older man with lines of experience etched into his face, regarded the 19-year-old with a look of utter annoyance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he exhaled a deep, weary sigh.

“You do realize why you’re here, Mr. Sakurai?” the principal’s voice, firm yet tinged with an undertone of frustration, broke the silence.

“Yes, sir,” Yuuto responded, his voice almost dragging, as his gaze shifted away, seemingly fixated on a nondescript point in the room.

The pause that followed was heavy.

“…Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the principal prodded, his eyes boring into Yuuto, searching for a hint of remorse.
“Not really. Won’t happen again though. Also, my grades are great, and they will stay that way regardless of my absence,” Yuuto replied, his tone nonchalant, almost dismissive.

The principal leaned back in his chair, a sigh escaping his lips as he prepared to deliver a familiar lecture.

“Mr. Sakurai. School, and this school in particular, isn’t a place you only need to submit your grades in and leave. It is a place where–“

Yuuto’s thoughts, however, were already miles away, his inner monologue laced with sarcasm.

‘Ah, man – here it is. The F Class technique of how honorable they are and how shite I am for not attending for a whole month. I get it. Can this baldy get it over with..?’ Yuuto mused silently, his gaze still diverted. His short hair itching beneath the wig.

“–Thus. I can’t pass this without a punishment,” the principal finally concluded, his voice carrying a finality that demanded attention.
Yuuto’s eyes flickered back to the principal, a mix of resignation and curiosity in his gaze.
“And punishment I’ll take. What is it? Homestay?” Yuuto inquired, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

The principal paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Were it any other student, that would be it – in addition to involving your relatives.”
The air in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation, the principal’s words hanging heavily between them.

Yuuto’s expression shifted into a deeper frown. His body language screamed defiance, a stark contrast to the principal’s measured, if increasingly exasperated, demeanor.

“But considering this is you, Mr. Sakurai, I’ve concocted a different plan to punish you,” the principal said, his tone suggesting a mix of sternness and a hint of cunning.

“Sure, whatever,” Yuuto muttered, his voice dripping with indifference.
‘Just get it over with…’ he thought, his mind racing with the desire to escape the confines of the office.

“… You are to join a club. Let it be… The Student Council. And have perfect attendance at every meeting they have. Knowing them, their stern and strict mindset should change your attitude right up and set you on a righteous path that every grown adult strives to–” the principal declared.

“EW, NO.” Yuuto’s response was immediate and visceral, his brows furrowing in stark refusal.
‘And have that snotty cuckold-maker reign over me? No chance in a cold hell. I can already see her snickering about like some demon, masquerading itself as a little princess laughing at some peasant who is just trying to earn an honest living, while ordering me around. She and my sister would make great friends.’

Doesn’t that analogy make you a lowly peasant? It seems Yuuto is finally becoming self-aware of how low in life he really is, and how much of an outcast no aristocrat would invite, ever.

‘Oh? Someone’s spirited today, I see.’

“Hm. Harsh. Baseball club, then? You seem like a timid young man, so an outdoor experience would-“

“NO.”

‘Although that does sound appealing… I can’t afford to stand out,’ Yuuto thought to himself, wrestling internally with the allure of the sport and his desire for anonymity.

‘Also, timid?’ Even Yuuto was dumbfounded.

“Arts club? Maybe bring out the inner world that is hidden within you would spark a desire to pursue-“

“Best I can (want to) draw is a stickman.”

“Ehm… Swimming?”

“For pussies.”

“Table Tennis, then. A sport that can be played indoors-“

“For dry pussies.”

The principal’s frustration was palpable, his patience visibly wearing thin.

“Kendo? It’s the manliest, most honorable activity that our school prides itself on-“

“NO CHANCE.”

‘I ain’t letting that naive kid dictate my life,’ Yuuto reaffirmed to himself, his resolve hardening.

“Then, what about–“

The conversation continued in this vein, a tiresome back-and-forth that traversed the spectrum of the school’s clubs.

“Mr. Sakurai,” The principal sighed as he clasped his hands, “You force my hand here. You must join a club to graduate.” The principal emphasized as he looked out the window – a beautiful day that was. Not a cloud in sight despite the downfall a few days ago. “This is what you want, is it not?”

Yuuto, as if mimicking the principal’s looseness, leaned back in his seat as he faced the principal.
“Then, let me graduate without a club.”

“I cannot do that. Not even to gifted students. These ones even put in extra work when it comes to school activities in clubs… Besides,” The principal faced Yuuto once more, placing both of his hands clasped together on the table as he gazed into Yuuto’s eyes, “I’m afraid you won’t be truly graduating that way. You want an unfair advantage over everyone?”

“Hmph,” Yuuto furrowed his brows as he looked away, “… I don’t need an unfair advantage. Everyone else sucks in their own way.” He muttered in a casual manner – as if it was simply a fact to be stated.

The principal blinked, seeking his attention as he shuffled in his seat, leaning more of his weight on the table, “Then, work with me here. I do not want you to have a regretful last year.”
“….”

‘I suppose it’s either me accepting his offer or him forcing it on me. It will come down to it. Whatever. He was lenient enough to let me refuse clubs I wouldn’t wanna join. I’ll get into some rundown club that there ain’t much to do.’

Yuuto took a deep breath, before tilting back his head to face the principal, “Fine.”

“Excellent.” The principal smirked warmly, “Now… If I’m not mistaken, the last club is… The Culture Club.”

“Culture club?” Yuuto echoed, his tone laced with a mixture of disbelief and resignation.

“Yes, the culture club. They’re responsible for setting up events,” the principal explained, his voice reflecting a sense of finality, as if this was the last card he had to play.

Yuuto’s mind raced, processing this new information. ‘Oh? So like festivals? I bet they’re a bunch of bums who never show up anyway. It’s gonna be the case twofold during the last 5 months… Worst case, I’ll work on setting up some fireworks or class decorations, and dip.’ he thought, a cynical smirk playing on his lips at the thought of outsmarting the system.

“I’ll take it,” he finally said, his voice carrying a note of reluctant acceptance, as if conceding to a game he had no intention of playing seriously.

“Splendid… I’ll notify their president,” the principal responded, a trace of relief in his tone.

“Who’s that?”

————LATER———-

‘The Culture Club room… That’s where it is, isn’t it?’

Yuuto navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the school, a sense of detachment in his stride. The whispers of his classmates, branding him as the ‘anime pillow guy’ and ‘the weirdo of class 1’, swirled around him like a dissonant chorus. Unfazed, he finally arrived at the club room and slid the door open.

Inside, the room buzzed with activity from four students, two girls and two guys, absorbed in various tasks. Among them, a familiar face…

“Oh, Sakurai! It’s you!” Shun, moving a box, called out.

‘Great, just my luck. The cuck from Student Council with his fantasy girlfriend…’ Yuuto’s thoughts soured as he spun on his heel, ready to leave as swiftly as he had arrived. But his exit was halted by a sudden, gentle grasp on his arm.

‘What the—’ He whirled around, his face a mask of annoyance. ‘Who’s got a death wish?’

“Ah! You must be Sakurai-senpai! Nice to meet you. I’m Sato Shizume, a second-year. And, well, your club president,” the student spoke with a blend of eagerness and courtesy.

Yuuto’s gaze landed on the boy before him. Sato Shizume was notably short, almost childlike in stature, with silky, short dark hair that shimmered under the sun’s rays filtering into the room. His ocean-blue eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and innocence, making him appear fragile, almost breakable – the kind of person Yuuto instinctively disliked.

‘Focus, Yuuto. You’re not dealing with gang members now. This is school, and there’s a guard outside,’ he reminded himself, trying to shake off the residual tension from the earlier fight.

Sato Shizume was known as a diligent peacemaker, universally kind. Rumor had it that even those who initially bullied him for his height ended up being charmed into friendship. He was a figure who effortlessly garnered popularity, perhaps even outshining Riko in that regard. Yuuto had never interacted with him personally, but his reputation was unmistakable.

Yuuto observed Sato with a critical eye. ‘Just a coward then, his punch lacking any real force. His arsenal? Mere words and charming gestures. A weakling, no doubt about it. I’ve even seen him being all polite and nice to scum like male1 and male2, totally clueless about their true colors. No magic, no grandeur about him; just adept at masking his true self. A manipulator, a liar, and self-centered to the core. Harmless for now, but with his popularity, I expected more followers in this club. Strange.’

“Call me Sakurai. I’ll be in your care,” he replied informally, eyeing Sato’s extended hand for a handshake.

As Sato’s thin fingers lingered in the air, a thought crossed Yuuto’s mind. ‘So fragile… I could snap him like a twig. Accidentally kill this guy just by—’

His thought abruptly cut off, his gaze fixed on an inconsequential spot on the wooden floor. A fleeting, recent memory, flashed through his mind, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

“Oh? Is something the matter, Senpai? You seem distracted,” Sato inquired, concern furrowing his brows.

Yuuto, realizing his prolonged silence, shifted his gaze back to Sato. “I was just thinking how you have a girl’s name. I bet you’re the type prisoners look for when they’re horny.”

The room fell into a stunned silence, all eyes turning toward Yuuto and Sato.

Shun, visibly appalled, exclaimed, “Sakurai, that’s a new low, even for you! Sato-kun was just being nice!”

“Yeah, what’s your problem?! Apologize to Sato-san!” Chiyoko Aizawa, a petite first-year with pink ponytails, demanded, abandoning her chores.

Sato, ever the peacemaker, raised his arms in a gesture of calm. “Now, now, it wasn’t that bad of an—”

“Sakkun, shut up,” a tall girl with long blonde hair interjected, stepping forward. She elegantly placed her finger on Sato’s lips, silencing him. Sato looked up at her, momentarily lost for words. She towered over him, a head or two taller.

Hiyori Minase, a third-year student, then turned her attention towards Yuuto, her presence commanding.

“Sakurai, right? If you’re going to keep this up, you’re out. I won’t stand for anyone talking about Sakkun like that in my presence,” Hiyori asserted, her gaze piercing into Yuuto with a controlled yet fiery intensity.

Yuuto, slightly tilting his head back, felt an unexplained surge of irritation. ‘She’s really getting on my nerves for some reason… Tsche. Think, say something sharp.’

“So I’ll just save it for when you’re not around,” he retorted coolly.

The room fell into a stunned silence, the air thick with surprise.

“Are you 5?” Hiyori’s bewilderment replaced her earlier anger, her head tilting in disbelief.

YES.

Yuuto mentally congratulated himself, smugly crafting another 5-year old’s comeback. “I have a JOB, sasquatch.”

The reaction was immediate. Shun winced, experiencing second-hand embarrassment, while Chiyoko seemed to shrink in on herself, her stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“How… How does that even—”

“Ahhh… Okay, okay…! Let’s calm down, both of you,” Sato interjected, stepping in between Hiyori and Yuuto with a gentle push and a disarming smile.

“Sakkun! Are you really going to let this weirdo talk to you like that?” Hiyori protested.

“Yes, Sato. Are you?” Yuuto echoed, adding to her challenge.

Dude, just stop…

“Hicchi… Trust me, I’ve got this,” Sato assured her, his gaze meeting hers with a quiet confidence.

Hiyori looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “F-fine… If you say so. Just… don’t let him get to you. You’re too nice to him, even after that insult… Dummy…”

Sato chuckled, his smile unwavering, “Thanks, Hicchi. I can handle it.”

Turning back to Yuuto, his demeanor remained relaxed, “Haha, yeah, I do have a bit of a girly name. My parents wanted a girl, so I guess they channeled some of that wish into my name.”

The tension in the room seemed to dissolve with Sato’s words, his presence diffusing the situation like a gentle spring breeze.

Before Yuuto could respond, Shun chimed in, “Sato-kun, it’s pointless with this guy. Some people are just beyond reasoning.”

Chiyoko chimed in, her voice tinged with earnestness. “Yeah! People talk about you all the time, Sato-san! They even came up with a nickname for you because of your naive nature!”

‘You don’t even know me, shitty brat.’

Sato turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise and curiosity. “Really? They made a nickname for me? That’s so cool! What is it?”

His innocent enthusiasm was palpable, and Chiyoko, caught off-guard by his reaction, blushed deeply, turning her head away.

“It’s, um, the… the Ov—” she stammered, unable to finish.

“The Overly Hopeful Fool,” Hiyori interjected, her voice steady as she crossed her arms.

“Whoa, that’s kinda cool! Like a nickname an anime protagonist would get!” Sato exclaimed, his eyes sparkling, unfazed by the less-than-flattering moniker.

Yuuto, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes and thought, ‘…Wow.’

“How is that cool, you dummy?” Hiyori muttered, dragging her palm across her forehead in exasperation. Yet, despite her words, a reluctant smirk tinged with blush crept onto her lips, as if Sato’s infectious cheer was seeping into her too.

“OOOH! You’re into anime too, Sato-kun?” Shun eyes lit up as he eagerly approached Sato. “What’s your favorite anime? Mine’s Hintama! It’s hilarious!”

“Eh? Haha, I’m what you’d call a normie… Mine’s Dragon Brawl Supreme.” Sato replied.

The room buzzed with animated chatter, and Chiyoko murmured to herself, “This feels like an anime convention…”

Yuuto, somewhat relieved to be out of the spotlight, thought, ‘At least I’m not the center of attention anymore. Sato’s manipulations did good for me, it seems. You ain’t getting baseball’d today.’

“Oh, right, right! Sakurai-senpai, I need you to book us a trip to Kyoto, find a hotel for students from years 1 to 3, make reservations two months in advance, and use the budget box to buy bullet-train tickets,” Sato suddenly said, turning to Yuuto.

“Hold on, Sato. This is the Culture Club, right? Since when does planning trips fall under our duties?”

Sato blinked innocently. “Oh, didn’t the principal tell you? When I joined last year, I felt the club wasn’t doing enough. So I talked to the principal, and–“

Yuuto’s heart sank. “–And you moved to a different club…?” he asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

“Nope! I made a deal with the principal to plan all school and field trips, in addition to our events, and manage our budget! I just added those responsibilities to our club!”

Yuuto muttered under his breath, “Typical teacher’s pet…”

“What was that, senpai?” He asked, raising his brow and turning his ear to Yuuto to ear better.

“He sneezed.” “I sneezed. ‘How considerate of you,’ I said.” Yuuto and Shun looked at each other with a nod.

Internally, Yuuto fumed, ‘That bald, fat principal really duped me. Next time I see him, he’s getting a piece of my mind.’

Somewhere, the principal laughed and sneezed at the same time.

‘I now realize why this club doesn’t have a lot of members despite the president being Sato… It’s because the president is SATO.’

I’m just your average high-school guy.

I’m a loner, by choice. Nobody really interests me. I have no interest in other people’s affairs. I was reading my favorite novel on my way back from school, when suddenly – the novel materialized before my eyes.

A being called the Bukaeki appeared itself before everyone!

“Hello, puny humans blah blah blah, humanity will be destroyed blah blah raise your levels and get superpowers blah blah hunt monsters, or you all will be NTRd!!”

“OH NOOOOO!!!” They all yelled, running around, screaming. But I knew what this is… It definitely is the beginning from the novel I was reading. I remained calm.

“Execute order 69.” I uttered, standing in the disoriented crowd. Everyone looked at me.

“Hmm?!? How can a puny human know the secret constellation shop code blah blah blah I am inevitable blah blah you will die now, since this is blasphemy and you shouldn’t know this.”

“Hah… If you wanted to kill me I’d be dead by now. I know what you want.” I kept my cool.

“Grgh..! Bastard! What do you want?”

“Give me the anti-ntr man power.”

[SHISUTEMU: You have received 1 [ANTI-NTR] Power!]

“oooooOOOOH! It’s him! Anti-NTR Man!” They shouted, screamed, prayed.

They knew in their hearts they’d be safe from now on.

Because I am here.

I am here.

____

“I SAID I’M HERE, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SON, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR! OPEN IT!” The walls of Yuuto’s room vibrated with the force of his father’s bellow, punctuated by a relentless barrage of knocks and a wild-western cowboy twang that could wake the dead.

“ELDER DRAGON!! I’LL TAKE YOU DO-…” Yuuto roared, jolting awake from his dream.

‘Ah, just a dream,’ he realized, disappointment washing over him as the real world intruded with its incessant racket.

‘They’re back…’ The thought was a leaden weight in his stomach.

Dragging himself out of bed, Yuuto grumbled under his breath, “Could’ve at least let me slay the Ugly Bastard Elder Dragon.” He threw on some clothes, his frown deepening with every thunderous knock. ‘Why come back, you shitty old man? Why not just stay in America with big sis and leave me in peace…’

Stumbling down the stairs, half-awake and wholly irritated, Yuuto was greeted again by his father’s booming voice.

“OPEN THE DOOR, I ORDERED!!!”

“Honey, he’s probably just getting dressed! It’s Sunday!” His mother’s voice, a calming contrast.

“Oh, my sweet, darling, beautiful, amazing, excellent wife, I’m merely encouraging our good-for-nothing son to be a bit more prompt.”

“I always tell you, it’s no use. He’s a lost cause. This is Yuu-ni we’re talking about. A defective product, through and through. Should’ve gone for a late abortion after I was born. Who knows, maybe he’s conveniently dropped dead while we were away. Or tumbled down the stairs just now.”

Yuuto rolled his eyes. ‘Ah, the little demon’s with them. Fantastic. I know she knows I can hear them…’

“YOUNG MISS! You will not talk about your brother that way!”

“Oh, believe me, my little cutie-pie, I’ve been perfecting that late-abortion technique since your brother’s debut in this world. Mark my words, SOMEDAY, I’LL SUCCEED,” their father retorted, warmth and jest mingling in his voice as they huddled behind the door.

“HONEY!” The mother scolded her husband.

With an exasperated click of his tongue, Yuuto unlocked the inner door lock, swinging it open. His mother stood there, arms wide, radiating maternal warmth and ready to engulf her son in a hug.

“Little shit. Couldn’t you have found some friends to bother?” Yuuto sneered at his little sister, his face twisting with disdain. He blatantly ignored his mother, who stood frozen, her open arms now hanging in disbelief.

“Like you’re one to order me around, Yuu-ni. How about you stop being a disgrace to our bloodline first? Then maybe, just maybe, you can look my way without groveling. You’re like, the one sperm-cell that should’ve been swallowed—”

The little sister’s biting words were cut short as their mother’s hand met her cheek with a sharp slap.

“How DARE you speak to your own BROTHER like that?!”

Yuuto’s face cracked into a smug grin, relishing the sight of his little sister’s now-chastened expression.

“No, you’re right, I can’t order you around. Just like I can’t make my shit flush any faster. You really are like a stubborn little—”

BAM.

In a blur of motion, Yuuto’s taunt was abruptly silenced by a thunderous dropkick to his face.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR OWN SISTER LIKE THAT?!” roared their father, his body a missile of paternal fury as he slammed Yuuto to the floor.

His little sister’s lips now curved into a smug smile, mirroring the grin Yuuto wore moments ago, as she looked down at her now-flattened big brother.

“Oh, now you’ve done it, you deadbeat dad. I’m gonna knock you out of the park!” Yuuto snarled, blood trickling from his nose as he pushed himself up to a crouching stance.

“BRING IT ON, YOU INGRATE!” his father roared back, muscles tensing in anticipation.

The living room transformed into a makeshift wrestling ring as Yuuto and his father grappled, each vying for dominance in their boisterous showdown.

Their mother, witnessing this familiar chaos, let out a weary sigh. “Ahh… Honey, once you’ve finished your little tussle, could you help me with the luggage?” Her voice carried a resigned acceptance, a melody of long-endured patience as she stepped past the fray and into the house, suitcases in tow. The young sister trailed behind her, rolling her eyes at the spectacle.

This marked the return of the Sakurai family’s peculiar brand of normalcy.

4 hours later…

Exhausted and sprawled on the floor, adorned with a tapestry of bruises, the father turned his gaze to Yuuto, who lay beside him equally battered. “So… how was your time alone here?” he asked, a note of curiosity threading through his fatigue as marvelous scents of fresh food roamed the house. Yuuto’s mother always cooked something from when he was little. She wasn’t much of a chef, so she didn’t look up new recipes. Somehow, that made everyone want her food even more – minus Yuuto’s little sister, who had a thing for exoticism.

“Fine,” Yuuto replied curtly, his eyes unmoving from the ceiling.

“Fine, huh? Did you get up to anything special?”

There was a brief pause as Yuuto weighed his response.

“I killed a man. Dumped his body in a dumpster. Later, someone came and torched the evidence.”

His father let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Really, now? Can you ever just give me a straight answer?”

“Can you? I’ve been here, doing the usual – eating, sleeping, existing. After 19 years, you’d think you’d get my routine. Why do you even bother asking anymore?”

“Because, as much of a fool as you are, you’re still my son. My flesh and blood. And you’re young, no matter how grown-up you think you are.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and unspoken.

“If something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me, right? Idiot.”

Yuuto’s gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. “We both know you can’t offer me any new wisdom.”

“Maybe I can, and you just don’t want to hear it.”

“You PHYSICALLY CAN’T. Don’t kid yourself, old man.”

“You underestimate your old man too much… Haah..” His father’s voice trailed off, tinged with resignation.

“There’s nothing you can do about that. It’s just how it is.” Yuuto replied.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows in the Sakurai living room, where Yuuto lay sprawled on the floor, his father’s question hanging in the air.

“Well? What about friends?”

“…Friends?” Yuuto echoed, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

“Friends.” His father repeated.

Yuuto let out a tired sigh, his gaze drifting to the dust motes dancing in a shaft of light. “You’re never gonna stop asking, huh?”

“Beat me once, and I’ll stop.”

Yuuto clicked his tongue, a familiar sense of defeat washing over him as the lopsided score of their wrestling matches flashed in his mind:

Dad: 101

Draws: 100

Yuuto: 0

“Someday,” he muttered, more to himself than to his father.

“So? You got any?”

Silence fell as Yuuto’s mind conjured the images of Shun and Sendo. The corners of his mouth twitched in a half-smirk, half-sneer. “Tsk. They ain’t even friends… Just some naive kid and a wimp. They’re so lame that—”

Before he could finish, his father’s booming voice filled the room. “HOOOOOONEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYY, OUR GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SON MADE SOME FRIENDS!!!” He sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, bounding towards the kitchen with an energy that belied the bruises coloring his skin.

“H-hey! Shitty old man! I’ll kick your ass! They ain’t my friends!” Yuuto protested as his face curved into an angry gaze.

“Eh?! Yuu-ni did?! FRIENDS, as in more than one…? I-impossible…” Yuuto’s sister’s voice, laced with shock and skepticism, cut through the air as she looked up from her phone, perched on the couch.

From the kitchen, their mother’s voice carried a warmth that seemed to fill the house. “Oh my!! That’s wonderful news…! I’m so happy for you, Yuuto.”

Yuuto’s cheeks tinged pink, a rare show of embarrassment. He averted his gaze, focusing on a crack in the ceiling. “T-thanks… Mom…” he mumbled, the warmth in his mother’s voice making him feel unexpectedly small.

‘Haah… Wonder how long they’d keep cheering if they knew I’ve been away from school this month, not even setting foot in school… Gotta keep that from the little demon at all costs. Time to think of a cover story… And think of how to stop the principal from letting them know…’ he thought, his mind already racing with possibilities.

“Haah…” Yuuto sighed, his footsteps echoing hollowly as he left the grim scene behind.

‘Focus. Think about the next step… Think what to do about-‘

Abruptly, his stride faltered. A wave of nausea surged, and he doubled over, retching onto the cold, indifferent street.

‘The…corpse.’

‘What’s this unease? You knew this day was inevitable, given what I am…’

‘I ended a life. So what? It’s a life no one will miss. Pull yourself together.’

He wiped his mouth, his vision swimming in disarray. The world around him seemed to spin uncontrollably.

‘I need to dispose of it. Damn, I left it in the dumpster. Need to go back… How long has it been? 40 minutes?’

Struggling to his feet, Yuuto’s legs trembled beneath him. He fought for balance, his mind racing.

‘I’ll sort it out when I return. My blood… it’s there at the scene. Too many mistakes this time. I must do better… Haah…’

Yuuto hastened back to the alleyway, his steps quick and determined, a sense of urgency driving him forward. The familiar sights of the city blurred past him as he navigated the twisting streets, each turn bringing him closer to his destination.

As he rounded the final corner, his pace slowed, a sense of foreboding washing over him. The alleyway, once a scene of conflict and struggle, was now eerily quiet. The only light came from the faint, flickering embers glowing from within the dumpster – the remnants of a recent fire.

“Who…” His voice trailed off, a mixture of confusion and disbelief coloring his tone. The sight before him was unexpected, jarring.

Yuuto’s eyes scanned the scene, taking in the charred marks that marred the ground around where he and Kyoya had fought. The memories of their confrontation were still fresh, yet now they seemed like distant echoes against the backdrop of this smoldering aftermath.

“…Did that?” The question hung in the air, unanswered. Yuuto stood there for a moment, his mind racing to piece together what had transpired in his rather short absence. The burning embers in the dumpster cast a weak, flickering light across his face.

———–BACK TO THE GANG’S HANGOUT, NIGHT-TIME. SHORTLY AFTER YUUTO LEFT————-

A man stepped into the dimly lit building, the door creaking shut behind him. The late-night silence was heavy, broken only by his steady footsteps. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, revealing a grim tableau: bodies strewn across the floor, each lying motionless, a testament to a violent struggle.

He took a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. The flame briefly illuminated his stoic face before he exhaled a cloud of smoke. “What a mess…” he muttered, surveying the scene with his keen eyes as he walked slowly, trying not to trip over any of the bodies.

In the eerie quiet, a groan pierced the air. Kazuki, one of the downed men, stirred. Blood marred his face, and his eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met the man’s gaze. “Oh, you’re awake?” the man queried casually.

“S-sei… Seichiro… H-he… took us down… H-he…” Kazuki’s voice was a ragged whisper, each word a battle as he crawled toward the man.

“I can see that. How did he do it?” the man asked, his tone laced with a detached curiosity.

“Knives… objects… fists… B-…Baseball bat… H-he was… like a pro…” Kazuki’s breaths were labored, his words punctuated by pain.

The man chuckled softly, a sound devoid of warmth. “A baseball bat, huh? A pro? Who was he, Babe Ruth?” His mockery was dry, his eyes as uninterested as those of a dead fish, betraying no emotion beyond the brief, hollow chuckle.

“K-Kyoya… is in danger… Help… him… Kyoya was… working on a…” Kazuki’s hands clutched desperately at the man’s ankles, his head bowed in a plea for mercy.

As Kazuki tried to speak further, the sharp scent of gasoline filled his senses. He slowly raised his head, his eyes widening at the sight of the canister in the man’s hand.

“…Well, this is awkward,” Seichiro remarked, his voice dripping with nonchalance as he caught Kazuki’s alarmed gaze. Without a flicker of hesitation, he swung the can, striking Kazuki. The man collapsed once more, his consciousness slipping away into darkness.

As Seichiro uncapped the can of gasoline, its contents sloshed rhythmically. He methodically doused the bodies, the sharp, acrid scent cutting through the stale air. The gasoline shimmered on the floor, the faint moonlight seeping through dirt-streaked, iron-barred windows lending an eerie luminescence to the scene.

“Would you have been able to put him back on the king’s road, Hikari?” Seichiro mused aloud, the smoke from his cigarette curling into the oppressive air. “You see, I’m just too tired to think about that. No more room in my head.”

The silence hung heavy, his words dissipating into the void.

“Like I said, it’s not that simple. I’m in this life, after all. There’s nothing I can do. The only hope we both had was you. And you ain’t here anymore. That’s my reasoning.”

He sighed, the sound lost amidst the steady pouring of gasoline and the steady rhythm of his own breaths.

“I know what you’re gonna say. I just can’t. It ain’t a matter of want or not, I just can’t. It ain’t me.”

A brief pause, a moment of contemplation.

“Try, you say?” He scoffed. “Nah.”

“Even if I do figure something out… What does it matter if you’re not there?”

The can was nearly empty now, the last of the 18 men shrouded in the liquid.

“Two must’ve escaped… Oh well. They won’t be able to do much damage,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he made his way to the exit.

Tossing the cigarette onto the gasoline-soaked floor, Seichiro replaced the steel bar, sealing the door from the outside. The night enveloped him, swallowing his form as he disappeared into the shadows. Behind him, the building stood silent, a tomb awaiting its fiery consummation.

“Didn’t it occur to him that these scum could have friends in the police…? Or maybe he was just too hotheaded to consider it…? Oh well. Easier for me to finish them off.”

—–LATER THAT DAY. NOON———–

Dark clouds covered the sky, casting long shadows across the alleyway as Seichiro arrived. The little sunrays escaping through the small gapes in the cloud-bed have done little to brighten the gloomy space. He immediately noticed signs of a recent struggle: blood marks and splatters staining the wet concrete, telling a silent, violent story.

Following the crimson trail, he found himself at a dumpster. With a resigned sense of inevitability, he lifted the lid. Inside lay Kyoya, unconscious, his body a stark contrast against the dumpster’s grim interior. Seichiro checked for a pulse and breath – Kyoya was alive, but just barely.

He sighed deeply, a sound of frustration and disdain. “Always making things difficult,” he muttered under his breath.

Seichiro picked up a metal bar lying nearby. His movements were methodical, almost mechanical, as he brought the bar down onto Kyoya’s head, splitting it open. The act was carried out with a dead-eyed stare, devoid of any visible emotion. “No more screaming from you…” he whispered to himself, as if justifying the deed.

He then poured gasoline into the dumpster, the liquid cascading over Kyoya’s still form. Striking a match, he tossed it in, the flames quickly engulfing the interior. Seichiro watched for a moment, ensuring the fire took hold, before turning his attention to the blood marks outside.

Methodically, he poured more gasoline over the traces of the fight, obliterating the evidence with fire. Each flame flickered in his emotionless gaze, reflections of a man who had crossed into a realm far removed from normalcy.

As the last of the bloodstains succumbed to the flames, Seichiro walked away, leaving the alleyway behind. The fire crackled in his wake, a grim testament to the finality of his actions.

————–LATER THAT VERY DAY————–

Late at night, in the dimly lit alleyway where shadows clung to the walls like specters, Miki stood, her figure drenched in sweat. Her eyes darted nervously, reflecting the flickering streetlights. Anxiety was etched into her every movement as she faced the group of suspicious men gathered near the charred remains of the building Seichiro had burned.

“He said his name was Anti-NTR Man…” Miki’s voice trembled as she relayed the information, her hands wringing together.

One of the men leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “Is that all you got?” he asked, his tone implying a threat more than a question.

Miki nodded rapidly, a cascade of affirmation. “I would never lie to you,” she insisted, her loyalty tinged with a hint of fear after she described Yuuto’s appearance and demeanor with utmost accuracy.

The men exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, one turned back to her, a semblance of approval on his face. “Good job,” he said, tossing her a small bag. “Here.”

Miki’s reaction was immediate. She crouched; almost leaped to grab the bag from the dirty asphalt ground. She inhaled deeply from the bag, the contents—a white powder—seeming to provide her an instant… High. Her lower torso began soaking wet while her knees gave as she gazed upon the bag as she would once gaze upon her boyfriend – with utmost admiration and affection. She huffed and puffed restlessly, her breaths heavier and longer as a tomato-red blush filled her face.

The men’s conversation shifted, their voices low but intense, indifferent to Miki’s reaction “Kazuki was running this drug business on the side, wasn’t he? He didn’t let Kyoya in on it… Ahh… Always fooling around, never bothered to provide detailed reports on its effects,” one grumbled.

“Yeah, and now this… What was his name, you said?” one man asked, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.

“-ANTI-NTR MAN…” Miki managed to say, her voice trailing off.

“Thank you, that guy. What’s with that name? NTR? Cuckoldry? Does he know about our operations…?” The man’s brow furrowed in thought.

“Could be… Could be someone tied to the girls Kazuki blackmailed. He had a penchant for the taken ones. Maybe a vengeful boyfriend. Miki, do you have a boyfriend?”

Miki’s response was disjointed, but clear enough. “It wasn’t him… Miyano’s too timid… That guy was stronger. Maybe Miyano hired him…” Not a shred of regret or patience in her tone, as she indulges herself with the bag as her genital dripples wet through her clothes.

“Alright, we’ll add this Miyano to our list for interrogation. He has a mother, right? We’ll use that against him if he feels like resisting.”

Miki didn’t respond, merely nodding in agreement. Her attention wholly consumed by the bag in her hands.

“We’ll have to check all their boyfriends… This is turning into a real headache,” one man muttered.

“We can’t let Mr. Hibiki get wind of this mess,” another added with a sigh.

The conversation shifted, focusing on the pressing issue. “We still need those reports on the drug’s effects. Kazuki never sent us anything useful.”

Suddenly, Miki’s eyes lit up with a twisted eagerness. “I-I can volunteer!”

The ringleader shook his head. “Your enthusiasm is noted, Miki, but we need someone… uninitiated. Someone who doesn’t know what they’re in for.”

One of the men looked at Miki with a lustful, uninhibited gaze. “We could still use her for… other purposes.”

Her response was disturbingly enthusiastic. “Y-YES, I’LL DO IT..!!” Her face blushed as if she had received the best Christmas present she could ever have asked for. Her face gleamed warmth and content.

“Yeah, fine, you’re in,” the man conceded with a wave of his hand. Miki went and stood in the behalf of the man who suggested it with a blissful smile.

The third man then suggested, “What about letting the new recruit handle the testing? He’s keen to show what he can do. I hear he’s only a highschooler, right?”

The ringleader exhaled heavily, a mix of resignation and caution in his voice. “They do start young… Fine, but let’s make sure the product is perfected first. No sense in ruining the kid’s experience with something half-baked.”

The other man nodded. “Agreed. And besides, this whole setback might be a sign. The boss hates when things are rushed, as we all know.”

As they spoke, the night seemed to grow darker around them, the moral lines blurring further in the shadows of the alley. The air was thick with unsaid words and unspoken plans, each more sinister than the last.

ARC 2 END.

VOLUME 1: First Base – END.

VOLUME 2: Second Base – START.

‘I’ve seen how that bastard fights through videos of old matches he had and prepared myself for a while before coming here… But I’ll admit..’

Yuuto was nearly launched away as Kyoya avoided his baseball-bat swing, and slugged him in the face.

‘…This is difficult.’

Yuuto thought to himself as he had his already bruised face sent the other direction by Kyoya.

The blow from Kyoya had more force than Yuuto had anticipated, and the world spun as the impact echoed through his skull. Staggering back, he could taste blood and his vision blurred. Yet, he kept his gaze on Kyoya.

Kyoya looked at his eyes. Yuuto still didn’t give up. “So ya ain’t some amateur… That’s good to see. I could really go all out on you, you sick fuck.” Scowled Kyoya.

Yuuto steadied himself, wiping a trickle of blood from his split lip. He couldn’t help but grin, despite the pain. ‘So, he’s got some moves… But I knew that. This wouldn’t have been worth it if he wasn’t at least some level of strong. Better than some random weakling.’

Regaining his footing, Yuuto swung the bat in a wide arc, creating distance between them, his eyes locked onto Kyoya’s every movement.

“Too bad you didn’t go all out on this final job, since the start, eh? Had you just done that…!”

Kyoya, confident after landing a solid hit, advanced with a boxer’s grace. Yuuto waited until the last possible moment, then ducked low, swinging for Kyoya’s ribs, hoping to crack them.

“You mighta landed that MILF BY NOW!”

The sound of the bat connecting with flesh was satisfying, but Kyoya was tougher than he looked.

‘His muscles took the brunt of it. Damn it!’

He grunted, took a half step back, then lunged forward with a vicious right hook aimed at Yuuto’s temple.

Yuuto, sensing the incoming hook, dropped his stance even lower, feeling the rush of air as the punch whizzed overhead. He rolled forward, using the momentum to come up behind Kyoya. ‘Never fight fair with a criminal,’ he thought to himself.

Kyoya, thrown off by Yuuto’s sudden disappearance, spun around just in time to see the bat coming. He raised his arm to block, and the sound of metal against bone cracked through the alley. Kyoya grimaced, but his arm held.

‘If ONE’S AIN’T ENOUGH, THEN…!’

Yuuto didn’t pause. He pulled back for another swing, but this time Kyoya was ready. With surprising agility, he closed the distance, grabbed the bat mid-swing, and yanked it, attempting to pull Yuuto off balance.

Yuuto resisted, pulling back with all his might. They were locked in a tug-of-war, each man struggling for control of the weapon.

“You fucker… You seem to be real interested in my love life, in particular…! You a stalker? Do I got a secret admirer…? What’s it to YOU…?! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Kyoya muttered as he pulled. He was outweighing Yuuto, yet Yuuto did not relent – pulling back the weapon with the same intensity.

“Don’t… Flatter yourself…!! Love life?! You call whatever you and that MILF had a LOVE LIFE?! Hahaha, you’re even more pathetic than that Haruto…!!” Yuuto strained with every word as he used every bit of his muscles.

Kyoya clenched his teeth as he pulled the bat in his direction.

“Or, did you really believe… In some demented delusion… That someone like you…!! DESERVES HAPPINESS?! A LOVE LIFE??! FUCK OFF..!!!” Yuuto gave one final tug, before suddenly letting go of his baseball bat, causing Kyoya to tumble backward with the bat in his hand.

Yuuto lunged at Kyoya as he fell on his back, pinning his arms using his knees. Kyoya’s chest beneath Yuuto’s crotch. Yuuto stared down at him, almost feral before beginning to rain down his fists onto his face.

“You NTR antagonists are all the same!!”
“You just wanted to manipulate her for a job, for MONEY. You enjoy and relish in the pain YOU CAUSE OTHERS! NOTHING ELSE.”

“And now you talk of peaceful life?! OF LOVE?! You gone senile during your thirties, it seems, KYOYA GUUJI!”

Kyoya spat blood to the side, his vision blurring from the relentless assault. Each word that Yuuto hurled at him was a punch, each accusation a blow to his conscience. He could feel the anger in Yuuto’s strikes, but amidst it all, something gnawed at him, a disquieting thought that wormed its way through the pain.

‘Just another job…’ He grimaced inwardly, his mind flashing back to the countless faces, the many nights spent weaving webs of deceit.

‘They were all just stepping-stones, marks to be played and discarded. That was the way of it—always had been. Himiko was supposed to be the same. Just another job… No girl is truly different from the other. They just want all the attention to themselves, and care about their image more than anything. One slip-up on your end, and it’s game over.. But…’

But as Yuuto’s fists connected with his face again and again, a stark realization pierced the fog of his daze. Himiko wasn’t just another face.

‘…She wasn’t just another job.’

Every smile she had given him, every touch, every moment they shared, flooded his senses.

‘She never complained in a way that mattered… She was ready to support me all the way. She wanted me to… Not worry about her, for a change… Even though she has a lot of shit going on in her life…’

———————–

Kyoya: “I gotta go… There’s trouble at my gym, and I can’t leave them alone right now… Sorry, Himiko.” He uttered, with slight shakiness in his voice as his palm was placed on the phone’s tiny microphone.

Himiko: “It’s alright. It’s the gym you love the most, is it not?” A warm, empathetic curve formed on her lips, silently assuring him she understood.

————————

‘Well, I won’t see her again, so it won’t matter. She saw the evidence, so she must be livid.’

‘She must also worry about little bro…’

‘Wonder how he’s doing? If he off’ed himself now, she’d really be all by herself… She’d be broken as shit.’

‘Come to think of it, I never saw her cry… I can’t really imagine it….’

The thought staggered him more than the punches. Himiko was different. She had wormed her way into his defenses, into a heart he thought was impervious to such weaknesses as genuine affection. It was laughable, terrifying, and utterly alien to him.

‘I don’t want to imagine it. I’d rather she smiles all the time. Much sexier… Wonder if I offered to help little bro in his life, she’d smile more… Maybe more insistent on all of us being together, would her smile be even bigger?’

‘Fuck…’

With every punch Yuuto landed, Kyoya saw her face, not in terror or pain, but in laughter and warmth. The realization hit harder than any blow: he had started to care. For the first time, someone’s well-being mattered more to him than his own gains, and that someone was Himiko.

‘I can’t stop thinking about her.’

As the fists kept coming, a bitter laugh escaped his battered lips. There in the dirt and grime of the alley, beaten and broken, Kyoya Guuji, the man who had lived a life taking advantage of others, found himself caring about the happiness of another person.

‘And… I wanna see her again. Even with little bro, too.’

“HRRRAAAAAAAAAGGGGHH!!!!” With a primal roar, he mustered all of his remaining strength. He raised both of his arms, raising Yuuto in the air, before tossing him to the side.

Yuuto rolled on the dirty ground, the breath in his lungs knocked out of him as he hit it. His metal baseball-bat still lying on the ground beside Kyoya. Swiftly, Yuuto rolled into a ducking stance, looking at Kyoya carefully as he stood up.

“I don’t know who you are… Or what the hell you want with my life…”

“But I don’t care, inspector.” Kyoya continued as he struggled.

“I can’t get caught up with the likes of you… I need to see her again. I need to talk to her…. She deserves an explanation coming from me… And I won’t let you stop me anymore.”

A cold, unforgiving laugh bubbled up from Yuuto throat, devoid of humor or warmth.

‘He… He really thinks he cares about her. He really thinks they’re in love or something or she will miss him.”

“Oh? You think you’re redeemable? You think after all the hell you’ve caused, all the lives you’ve ruined, that you get to have a moment of closure? A chance to play the reformed sinner?” Yuuto’s voice was a venomous hiss. Not a sound someone who swore to protect the weak would emit.

‘That’s a first… First time I see an NTR antagonist… Nah, first time I see someone so…’

‘Detached from our reality.’

‘It’s not even funny.’

“No, Kyoya. There’s no coming back from what you’ve done. There’s no happy ending for you,” Yuuto spat out, his eyes blazing with madness. “You don’t deserve her words, her forgiveness… You don’t deserve anything but pain.”

“I know. I know I’m a piece of shit. But I’m gonna see her one last time. Someone like Himiko… A good woman like her deserves an explanation. A proper one.”

“…”

“No convincing ya, eh?” Kyoya added.

“No. Because you don’t really mean that. You want to use that opportunity to ensnare her again. To feed her some more manipulations. To get her to do whatever the fuck you want. And now, you’re trying to seduce me into letting you, seeing as you can’t beat me. That’s in your nature. You were rotten ever since you were born. It’s in your blood to destroy and conquer. These words are nothing but pretty sentiments you’ve thought up to soften me up.”

Kyoya looked down as blood dripped on the concrete ground. Faces of people he’d stepped on to get to where he is today flashed before his eyes.

He then looked at Yuuto with a small grin.

“Here.” He then tossed something at Yuuto. Yuuto swiftly seized it midair and examined it.

It was Kyoya’s phone.

“I don’t feel like fighting again. Call the police, tell them where I am. Shit, even follow me. From the way you talk, I get the feeling that you’re fighting for the good guys. As twisted as you do it.”

‘What? No, this is just him lying. Trying to gain my trust. I WON’T fall for that.’ Yuuto clenched his grip on the phone. Kyoya began marching toward Yuuto, slowly.

“But let me see her and just explain to her. She has the evidence anyway, right? So she’ll be able to confirm everything I say either way.” He added as he walked, almost brushing past Yuuto.

“….”

‘He means to do no such thing. He will definitely try and manipulate his way again, twisting his words and whatever part he took in this. Considering he’s a careful person, he will try and strike me from behind the moment he passes.’

Kyoya walked past Yuuto, who was standing his ground, not moving a muscle.

‘Any minute now…! I’m ready!’

‘….’

Kyoya’s footsteps did not lose their rhythm. He continued walking past Yuuto, not initiating a single move aimed at Yuuto.

Yuuto’s eyes widened at the realization that Kyoya had not taken a swing, and just kept walking.

‘I suppose guys like that exist,’ Thought Kyoya as he walked, the sun rays of the outer street beckoning him.

‘Well, I already felt somewhere that going legit was too good of a dream…’

‘But damn…’ Kyoya’s beaten and bloody face glistened in the sun.

‘Himiko… You made it a great one. You really…’

‘Really did. Thank yo-‘

With an almost supernatural quickness, Yuuto lunged at KYOYA, his hands reaching not for the bat, but for Kyoya’s nape. This was no longer about justice or protection; this was about eradication. The eradication of a blight that had dared to believe it could be anything other than what it was—a monster in human skin.

‘Damn straight.’ Yuuto thought to no one as he lunged at Kyoya.

Kyoya turned around, swiftly as he heard the sudden noise of a sprint – but not swiftly enough. With full force, he tackled Kyoya and pinned both his palms against Kyoya’s air-pipe as they fell on the ground. Yuuto pressed his entire body weight as he laid on Kyoya once more. Nay, the monster.

“… Because that is what you are. TALK TO HER!? CARE?! Who the FUCK do you think you’re fooling? Well, I suppose if Himiko was here, she’d melt at whatever you had to say. Someone snakelike as you surely has some magical word combination to get her wet.”

Kyoya coughed as he placed his tired arms on Yuuto’s trying to yank them off of him, but Yuuto’s fingernails began to dig deep into his skin, squeezing out blood from his neck.

“Truthfully, I did mess up with this job, Kyoya Guuji. I have to say in this moment of clarity…” Yuuto mutters as his grip tightens. Kyoya’s lungs grasp for air, but none could go through Yuuto’s deathgrip.

“…That I am actually grateful that you filmed her. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have a lot to go on. I guess that’s one thing I’m ashamed of.” Yuuto muttered as he sent a punch after the other

Kyoya flailed his arms around, trying to flip around his body – but Yuuto’s grip was too relentless. It was like a feral bear had climbed on him, biting his neck.

In his attempts to grasp for air, he muttered, “Hi-…Mi-ko…”

“PFFT, HAHAHAHA!!! HOW DOES IT FEEL LIKE, KYOYA!? ISN’T IT IRONIC?! Someone the NTR protagonist hired defeated the NTR Antagonist his OWN FATHER HIRED AGAINST HIM..!! ISN’T IT LIKE, THE PERFECT VICTORY?! LOVE – 1000000, NTR 0!!! 0!!! HAHAHAHA!!!! YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO SEE YOUR VICTIM EVER AGAIN, FUCKING CRIMINAL!!!” Yuuto roared.

Kyoya’s vision dimmed, the edges of his world growing soft and indistinct. Figures approached through the gloom, their outlines shimmering with the red and blue strobe of police lights. Himiko, her face awash with concern, Haruto beside her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. The sirens wailed, a distant chorus to the drama unfolding before him.

Himiko reached out, her hand gently touching his cheek, a silent message of comfort and forgiveness. Haruto watched, his gaze no longer one of resentment but something akin to understanding, a silent truce hanging unspoken between them.

The grip on his throat eased. Kyoya saw Yuuto being restrained by officers, the baseball bat picked up from the ground, a symbol of justice finally served. Himiko’s voice was a soothing balm, speaking words of peace, her touch a lifeline as Kyoya gasped for air.

‘I guess… I… I just wanted someone to love me and not apologize for it…’ Kyoya’s heart swelled with the illusion of redemption, the tender scene unfolding around him a balm for his battered soul.

Yet, as the warmth of Himiko’s touch lingered, the world slipped away. The sirens faded to silence, the comforting weight of hands vanished, and the light in Kyoya’s eyes dimmed to nothingness. The alleyway was still once more, the chaos of the fight reduced to a silent tableau.

In the aftermath, Kyoya lay still, the life finally faded from his body, his last moments filled with the poignant tragedy of a man who dreamed of love and absolution in the instant before the end.

‘Well. That’s that.’

Yuuto uttered as he stood beside Kyoya.

‘… Hm.’

Yuuto looked down as he breathed of exhaustion. Examining Kyoya’s beaten and bloody… Now corpse.

‘First blood?’ He thought to himself.

‘Well, killing someone… Haah… I knew I’d do it at some point to an NTR antagonist. No point muttering over it.’

‘… OKAY! Better put this shitface in the dumpster. I’ll come back in an hour or two, figure out what to do with him.’

This takes place just after Yuuto lured Kyoya outside with the phone-call in the previous chapter.

_____________________________________

NTR Antagonists are all the same, and they will never change.

That’s what I always said.

And I’m right. I know better than ANYONE.

Yuuto’s Terms of Service:

11. Should the job go smoothly, the same character will never bother you again.

—————————————-
‘- And it went smoothly.’

‘It did.’

‘All the pieces are in place… I’ve placed the usb in Himiko’s house, and she will see it shortly. Kyoya is lured out of the house. Evidence about Kazuki’s endeavors are all sent to the police station, and with thorough interrogation, the gang and Kyoya will all be found guilty, in time.’

‘Every piece is set.’

‘I’m a bit fatigued… But not so much that I’d lose to one pathetic boxer, former champion or not. I’ve slept the entire day, after all.’
Yuuto strolled the empty street beneath the noon-sun. Swirling his slightly battered and dented baseball-bat around with ease. Looking all directions to make sure he isn’t seen. The image of Haruto briefly flashes in his head.

Yuuto clicked his tongue as he spoke to that image in his head.

‘I’m sorry, cuck. I can’t indulge your naivete. Nor do I understand it. You think you’re all grown up, huh? Move on, start a new life. Or, how did you tell me? Just end it, get that bastard arrested… NTR will always follow you, no matter where you go. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but soon it will happen again.’

‘That’s why you must be angry. You need to manipulate, strategise. You need to HATE. Without all those things, you cannot truly stop people like Kyoya, who are evil incarnate, who will stop at NOTHING, and cannot be changed. Or stop your Himiko from falling for another in the future…’

‘Naturally, I’ve checked. Kyoya Guuji had no pals at the police, nor somebody he would contact on the outside… It was just him and his gang. Impressive. But that won’t always be the case with other NTR Antagonist, these scum are crafty. Now, police will come for Kyoya soon with all the evidence, for sure… And I can say, with no doubt, that he will be arrested and locked up for a while.’

‘But what if he thinks to do something to your precious Himiko just before they start looking for him? Did you think about that? No, you just wanted to “move on” in your selfishness. To grow up, even… Haaah, well; he’s in the category of the people I’ve sworn to protect: Weaklings and the undetermined.’

Yuuto sighed.

‘Now, then… Let’s get down to business.’

————

Kyoya’s breaths were ragged, a mix of exertion and urgency as he sprinted through the labyrinth of the city, his phone clutched tightly in his grip. Calls rang out, unanswered, into the void as he pushed his legs to move faster.

“Blank Avenue… 192nd Street… Back Alley, it’s gotta be here!” He panted, the words tumbling out in a rush as he rounded the corner and charged into the dimly lit alley. The cacophony of gunfire and the clash of metal called to him, an urgent siren song that spurred him onward.
He skidded to a halt amidst the desolation of the alley, a stillness that belied the chaos he had been led to expect. No signs of a struggle, no blood, no remnants of the violence he had been promised — just the noises he was lured by, and the oppressive weight of the visual absence of them.

A frown creased his forehead, “What the…” His voice was a whisper of confusion that cut through the sound. His eyes, sharp and searching, scanned the area until they landed on an innocuous boombox perched atop a dumpster lid. The unlikely orchestrator of the sounds that had lured him here.

“A speaker..?” The word was barely audible as he edged closer, his movements cautious. His fingers found the pause button, pressing it with a hesitant force.

Silence fell like a heavy curtain, and Kyoya stood there, the gears in his mind turning rapidly. Suspicion and realization dawned in his eyes as he pieced together the deception.

“Kyoya, Kyoya, Kyoya… Life in the corporate world softened you up.”

Kyoya’s muscles tensed as the sudden voice echoed off the alley’s grimy walls. It was both familiar and disconcerting, a jarring note in the silence that had fallen. He spun around, eyes locking onto the figure stepping out from the shadows, the dim light flickering over his form like a spotlight on the main act.

The intruder’s footsteps echoed a steady rhythm as he advanced, an unwavering cadence that carried a sense of inevitability. In his grip, a baseball bat moved with an almost hypnotic fluidity, spinning through the air with casual ease.

Kyoya’s grip tightened on the boombox, an instinctive reaction as he sized up the man before him. There was a certain nonchalance in the way he held himself, a relaxed demeanor that belied the tension in the air.

“… Inspector Haruto Sakurai. A bit late for an inspection, I’d say.” Kyoya’s voice carried a note of bravado, a thinly veiled attempt to mask the stirring of unease within him.

“P-P-P-Ping pooong. You get 10 points for that one,” the figure retorted, his voice dripping with a taunting mirth that grated on Kyoya’s nerves.

“I don’t assume you called me here to clean the alleyway together, huh?” Kyoya shot back, his tone laced with a mock levity that felt increasingly hollow.

“Oh, no, Kyoya. I’ve come to baseball your criminal ass,” the man declared, his voice now carrying a weight and a certainty that froze Kyoya in place.

“To what now…?” Kyoya repeated, the absurdity of the statement jarring him momentarily, before Yuuto continued speaking.

“In layman’s terms, to crack your nuts with the girthier end of my bat.” Yuuto’s tone turned more sinister as he tapped the baseball bat repetitively on his other palm. He stopped just 5 meters away from Kyoya, glaring at him.

Kyoya’s face twisted into a sneer, mocking the bravado oozing from the figure before him. “Scary guy… Inspector, I’ve recorded this threat… I’m going to call the police now. So, stop while you can,” he said, brandishing his phone like a shield, its screen displaying the call in progress and the glaring red dot of a recording in action.

Yuuto, unfazed, let out a derisive chuckle. “Breezy action on your end, bravoooooo, Kyoya Guuji,” he drawled, the bat now resting beside him like a trusted ally.

Kyoya, his confidence bolstered by the legal implications of his recording, shot back with a smugness that filled the space between them. “Seriously, if you’re going to ambush someone, do it more discreetly, kid. This isn’t some anime. AND you’ve also sabotaged my establishment with those sudden visits, not to mention you’ve disturbed my day-to-day life, so let’s also add harassment to the mix. You’re going to jail for a loooong time,” he said, his phone pressed to his ear as if the cavalry were already on their way.

Yuuto’s smile only widened, a shark baring its teeth. “The police will come here?” he asked, his tone deceptively light.

Kyoya’s nod came with the authoritative beep of the phone against his ear, a confirmation of incoming reinforcements. “Yep. Hope you like juvenile prison, kid. I heard other brats in there don’t play it nice with fresh meat.”

Yuuto’s eyes glinted. His stance relaxed but ready. ‘Fresh meat… Haah, honestly, if you’re going to pretend you’re not a vile criminal, at least do a better job,’ he quipped in his mind, his voice laced with contempt.

“…I suppose that will save me the trouble, they WERE going to look for you, anyway,” Yuuto continued, the smile never leaving his face.

Kyoya’s eyes narrowed, his phone call momentarily forgotten.

[Dispatch, Hello? Is everything alright?]

“…”

[This is the Police, is anyone there?]

Kyoya’s hand hovered over the end call button, his expression growing more grim by the second as the police dispatcher’s voice buzzed with concern from the speaker. “Yeah, accident. I had someone on speed-dial, and accidentally called you, instead,” he lied smoothly, the fabrications falling from his lips with practiced ease.

The dispatcher’s professional skepticism was palpable even through the phone.

[Sir, are you sure you’re okay?]

He managed a chuckle, strained but convincing. “Yes, it happens a lot. Sorry to disturb you,” Kyoya replied, already weaving the next part of his narrative in his mind, dismissing the call with a flick of his thumb.

The line went dead, the finality of the tone echoing in the alley. Silence reclaimed the space as Kyoya locked eyes with his opponent. “Speak. Who are you?” His voice brooked no argument, demanding answers.

Yuuto didn’t flinch under the weight of Kyoya’s gaze. Instead, he met it with an unyielding stare of his own, the smile never wavering. “Kyoya Guuji, Kazuki Tanetsuke… Two butt buddies with a history of blackmail, manipulations, mafia work, and now this job. ONE LAST job before going into legitimacy,” he revealed, his voice dripping with disdain.

Kyoya’s facade of composure cracked, just for a moment, as the reality of his situation sank in.
His patience snapped like a frayed wire, his controlled exterior giving way to a burst of fury. His heavy boot thudded against the cracked asphalt as he advanced on Yuuto, each step reverberating in the tense air. 

“I asked, WHO ARE YOU?!” he roared, fingers clamping around the fabric of Yuuto’s hoodie with a grip that could crush bone, yanking him close enough to feel the heat of his breath.

Yuuto’s response was a soft, almost childish giggle that escalated into an unrestrained, mocking cackle. “PFFT, HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA,” he laughed, the sound so jarring in its mirth that it momentarily stunned Kyoya into silence.

There, inches from Kyoya’s face, Yuuto’s own twisted into a smile so wide it seemed to split his face. “I’ve already sent it all!” he declared, his grin manic and his eyes wild with glee.

“The evidence, all the sordid little escapades with that MILF, your buddy’s antics… And your goons? Oh, they must be snug behind bars as we chat,” Yuuto continued, almost giddy with the revelation.

“Just a matter of time before one of them cracks under pressure, spills all your dirty little secrets… PFFFT HAHAHAHAHAHAH! YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCREWED!!” His laughter, loud and echoing, filled the alley, a victorious fanfare to his proclamation. “Right now, that MILF is looking at all the evidence that exposes EVERY SINGLE THING YOU DID…!!” His voice crescendoed into a mad bellow, laughter still lacing every word.

Kyoya’s grip tightened on Yuuto’s shirt. “You’re lying!” he yelled.

“Look into my eyes,” Yuuto hissed, his smile as bright as ever. Kyoya’s gaze locked onto Yuuto’s pupils.

“Look into my honest eyes and tell me those details I just shared are lies,” Yuuto taunted.

Kyoya’s grip slackened as he stared.

His years in the criminal world and dealing with corrupt people had given him a sixth sense. There was no pretense in Yuuto’s tone.

He could feel the weight behind his words—the relief, the freedom, as if Yuuto had just won the marathon of his life.

It was no lie.

He then stepped back, a shadow of doubt flickering across his usually composed features. “I… I won’t see her again then,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips, a mix of realization and regret.

Yuuto’s brows furrowed, confusion and irritation clashing in his gaze. “The fuck you said…?” he demanded, his voice sharp, a stark contrast to the soft murmur from Kyoya.

Kyoya’s eyes flicked upwards, meeting Yuuto’s with a newfound calm. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with the weight of acceptance. “Nothing,” he replied, his tone even, the earlier tension seeping away from his shoulders.

‘Ahh… The SSSSSS CLASS TECHNIQUE OF “I ACTUALLY CARE, HONEST” BRAVOOOOOOO, KYOYA…. But… A bit poorly timed, scumbag…’

“So, why the hell are you here? If you’ve already done what you said, why drag me out? Coulda just ended it with the cops.” Kyoya’s eyes narrowed, seeking the logic in Yuuto’s actions, the undercurrent of his own anxiety barely perceptible.

Yuuto was twisting his lips as he spat out his words with venom. 

“Oh, that…”

“I thought I made myself crystal clear. Are you deaf or something, you motherfucker?” The rage in his voice was palpable, cutting through the still air like a knife.

Kyoya’s mind raced, a thousand thoughts colliding as he balled his hands into fists. “Did I do something to you in the past for you to take it this far, or…?” The question hung between them, a thread of tension ready to snap. Kyoya’s stance shifted, defensive yet poised, ready for whatever Yuuto’s answer might incite.

Yuuto’s lips twisted into a malevolent grin, the bat hanging loosely from one hand. “To ME…? Well, let’s just say I’m looking forward to cracking you open like a walnut. And… I’m going to celebrate to that tonight.” His voice dripped with derision, his gaze locked on Kyoya like a predator eyeing its prey. 

“Aren’t you glad, Kyoya Guuji? After all, someone ought to give you a thought tonight, now that your little make-believe romance is dead and buried…”
The muscles in Kyoya’s jaw tightened, a vein pulsing in his forehead as anger surged through him like a wildfire. 

“You sick fuck,”

Kyoya growled, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. “You’re begging for a beatdown, and I’m about to give it to you. I haven’t let loose in a long time, but for you, I’ll make an exception. I’ll pummel you until I’m bored, and then I’ll disappear before the cops can catch a whiff of me. You should’ve called them when you had the chance.” His stance was solid, the stance of a man who knew how to handle himself in a fight, a veteran boxer, his eyes burning with primal fury.

Yuuto’s grip on the baseball bat tightened. His grin had a feral edge, his eyes glinting with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly.

“Why would I delegate the pleasure of breaking you to the cops?” he taunted, the bat now poised like the scythe of a vengeful reaper. “I wouldn’t dream of denying myself the satisfaction. “No, Kyoya Guuji, I’m your reckoning.”

He shifted his weight, ready to spring into action, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Consider this personal, you NTR Antagonist piece of shit.”

Haruto’s eyes would flicker to Yuuto’s silhouette, observing him as they walked side by side. The silence around them felt denser than usual, as if it was charged with unspoken words. Yuuto’s face held an unreadable expression, his gaze fixed on some distant point only he could see.

 Maybe Haruto had ruffled his feathers the wrong way. But there was something different too—Yuuto’s hair was noticeably shorter.

“You cut your hair?” Haruto’s voice broke the quiet between them.
Yuuto, taken aback, instinctively reached up to his head, his fingers missing the familiar disguise. “Oh… This… Well, you see… Actually—”

Haruto’s laughter interrupted him, light and understanding. “It’s fine, it’s fine… I kind of figured you were the guy from that website. Your secret’s safe with me—I wasn’t going to poke around.”
‘So, you’ve chosen, death.’ The psychopath’s thought as he stared at Haruto with the eyes of a predator. Haruto did not notice Yuuto’s sudden mood swing.

“… You’ve helped me a lot. Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna tell no one. I won’t benefit much from it, anyway.” Haruto uttered casually, looking forward with a peaceful grin.

‘…’

“I didn’t do the job. Himiko isn’t yours. You are ACTIVELY being NTR’d now. Kyoya is banging your mom.” He uttered, his look intensifies as Haruto’s gaze remains casual.

“So?” Haruto’s response was nonchalant.

Yuuto’s eyes narrowed, a mix of confusion and curiosity flickering within.

Haruto’s stride slowed as he pondered Yuuto’s earlier statement, his voice trailing off, “I said, so what? Kyoya isn’t going to harm her. He just aimed at me, and even that was just on the emotional end. And let’s be honest, she’s not some untouchable saint. She and my dad… well, it’s likely they’ve been together. And we’ve been over this, haven’t we? She was never mine to begin with. Whoever she chooses to be with… well, that’s her choice…” His voice waned a bit, the words catching slightly in his throat.

“It’s just an unrequited love, really. A fantasy I was clinging to.“

Haruto sighed, his shoulders relaxing as if he were shedding the weight of his words. “Life’s more than chasing after her. I’ve got to look beyond, plan for my own future… I’m already 19, you know?”

Yuuto studied Haruto’s profile, seeing the struggle in the set of his jaw, the way he blinked a bit too long when saying her name.

“So why are you so into this Anti-NTR stuff?” Haruto’s inquiry was genuine, his eyes searching Yuuto’s for an answer.

“Why?” Yuuto echoed, taken aback as if the question were as foreign as another language.
“Yeah. Why all the effort?” Haruto pressed.

Yuuto’s mind mocked the simplicity of the question, ‘Bro literally asking for something so obvious. Am I asking you why the sky is blue or why we laugh at a funny joke, such as how fragile your balls are? Yet here I am, needing to spell it out for him. I guess the NTR really dropped his IQ points.’

“Because NTR exists. That’s reason enough.” Yuuto’s reply was flat, a statement of fact as he met Haruto’s inquiring gaze.

Haruto’s forehead creased with curiosity. “Just because it exists? That’s it?” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “I thought maybe there’d be some.. Well, you know, maybe… Passion behind your actions, some personal motive that gets you going. Not prying, just… perhaps you’ve experienced something similar…?”

‘Something that happened to me in the past, huh…?’

Yuuto’s face remained unreadable for a moment, then a spark of amusement flickered in his eyes, a wry smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“That would make for a good story, huh?” he mused aloud. “A shadowy past shrouded in anguish. The perfect hook to reel in some more wimps-erhm, I mean, CUSTOMERS.” A smirk playing on his lips as he considered the allure of a fabricated sob story.

‘I mean, losers DO tend to get along with someone who shares their pain. That’s a good idea…’
Haruto’s gaze flicked over Yuuto’s face, searching for any sign of jest. Finding none, he exhaled a soft, almost disbelieving chuckle. 

“So, one day you just popped out of bed and thought, ‘This is it; this is what I’m going to do’?”

“Yep, that’s about it,” Yuuto replied with a shrug.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Haruto’s mouth, a wistful hint of acceptance in his expression. “Just like that, huh…” he murmured, his smile lingering with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

The crunch of gravel underfoot punctuated the silence of the early noon as Yuuto and Haruto approached the modest Sakurai household that had served as their base.

 
Yuuto halted at the front step, turning to Haruto with a look that brooked no argument.
“Go for a jog,” he instructed, an edge of command in his voice that was softened by the barest hint of concern.

Haruto hesitated, “A jog, of all things? That’s odd… Why not ‘go for a swim?’ “

“The school’s open right now, you would get caught.” The good-for-nothing replied, absent for the past month from school. “And I don’t consider you hiking up that trail as exercise. Consider the extra workout as punishment for breaking the clause, if that’ll help.”

 
“I’ll go send the evidence to the police station.” His words were vague, casual – as he waved the USB before Haruto’s eyes.

Haruto read the seriousness, yet aloofness in Yuuto’s posture, the unwavering gaze that had so often assessed his own determination. “The training,” he began, “All the swimmingI did the past month… Think I can manage with a jog now?”

“You’ve built the stamina. Trust it,” Yuuto affirmed, clapping a firm hand on Haruto’s shoulder. There was a pride in his voice that wasn’t often allowed to surface, a recognition of the effort and change that had taken place in Haruto.

‘Truth be told. I haven’t seen anyone to go through all this, even when the Anti-NTRing is doomed in their eyes. It’s like… He found a new purpose.’
Haruto set off with a jog, his initial steps cautious, feeling out the freedom of the path ahead. The hesitant beginnings soon blossomed into a steady, rhythmic pace, each footfall a solid note in the newfound melody of his life’s direction.

Glancing back, a playful spark lit up his features. “Hey, you oughta up your rates!”

Yuuto blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that?”

“For the website,” Haruto called over his shoulder, the gap between them growing. “Your fees, man. 10,000 yen’s a steal for all you’ve done for me!”
A chortle escaped Yuuto, light and unguarded. Haruto’s back was to him now, but his bright smile lingered in Yuuto’s vision.

‘I’m well aware,’ he mused silently.

His own smile was a mix of genuine warmth and hidden exhaustion, unseen by Haruto, who was already becoming a small figure against the sprawling canvas of the setting sun.
“I know!!! I’ll kick your ass if you yell that out loud again!!!” he yelled in response, voice chasing after the retreating form.

‘But thanks, cuck.’

Yuuto thought, as he saw Haruto disappear with the sunrays shining above him as he jogged. He then turned around.

‘Now… Time for the final act in this job. Kyoya Guuji. You’re going down, you motherfucker.’

———HIMIKO————–

Himiko’s face showed worry. “What got into Haruto to hit you like that, Kyoya?”

Kyoya shook his head slightly. “I only invited him to hike with us. Maybe that upset him. Hiking was something special for you two.”

“It’s not just our thing,” she said. “We both enjoyed it. Haruto has his issues, though.”
Kyoya looked at her seriously. “Himiko, I’ve got issues too. I had a rough start in life before meeting you. I get it if you want to call it quits. You’ve got enough on your plate with little bro and all—”

Before he could finish, Himiko kissed him, stopping his words. They walked on towards her place. “Stop, Kyoya. I’ve told you before, it doesn’t bother me. I know the real you—you’re a good man, and you got a kind heart. If your past comes back to haunt us, we’ll deal with it together. And maybe Haruto could use someone like you in his life,” she added, looking sad for a moment as she rested against him.

“One day, I’ll tell you my whole story,” Kyoya said, covering her hand with his on his chest.
“There’s no rush. It’s got to be tough to talk about,” she said, trusting him. “But I believe in you, Kyoya.”

By the time their hike was over, it was already late afternoon. They had been down every trail. For Himiko, it felt like the end of a map.

When they got back to Himiko’s house, Kyoya rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m beat… Do you mind if I stay over tonight?”

“Of course not,” Himiko replied with a warm smile, bustling towards the kitchen. “You’re always welcome here. It’s not like there’s someone to object…”

Kyoya leaned against the door frame, watching her as he sensed the frustration in her tone. “Seems like you’re not too pleased with little bro, huh?”

Himiko paused, a frown briefly crossing her face. ‘Why didn’t Haruto tell me he had an issue with Kyoya? I thought we shared everything… I thought we were closer. He just went ahead and did that… Haah…’

“I won’t pretend I’m not upset with him,” she admitted, turning the stove on. “But Haruto’s his own person now. And for now, let’s not dwell on him…”

Changing the subject, she looked at Kyoya, her eyes sparkling. “So, what are you in the mood to eat?”

Kyoya seemed taken aback by the question. “I can… choose?”
Himiko chuckled. “Yes, you can choose. I’ve cooked more meals than I can count. So, what’ll it be?”

A slight blush tinged Kyoya’s cheeks, and he looked off to the side. “Um… curry?”
Himiko laughed softly at his shyness. “Curry it is. How cute… I never saw you this bashful before…”

Kyoya muttered under his breath, a little embarrassed but smiling. “Well, you did ask…”
“Don’t worry, curry is on the menu. Haruto doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, staying away tonight,” she said cheerfully. “Why don’t you go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch? Dinner won’t take long.”

‘… She… She actually asked if I want to eat some curry. Damn. Little bro, you got a sexy mommy, I’ll give you that… Can’t wait to make her completely my woman…’ Kyoya thought as he sprawled his limbs on the couch, with the television still turned off. Instinctively, he rubbed his cheek where Haruto laid his fist.

‘I wonder if little bro’s still in the mountain. He must’ve gone back by now, right? Pshe, he’s probably too devastated to move since she was his world, AND he’s on the pills. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offed himself by now. Frankly, that’s the only conclusion I can come to. Ain’t no way he’s still alive, when you think about it. Well, it doesn’t really matter. The client’s gonna be even happier, heh, he might even give us a bonus if he hears he killed himself somewhere…’ He thought to himself, raising up his phone, looking through his contacts.

‘… Should I call him?’

Kyoya’s thoughts halted for a few moments.

‘That… That WOULD earn me a favor with Himiko. That’s the whole point. Who would care about that naive little pussy?’
‘But then again, what if he had someone like Kazuki in his life earlier? Someone who could’ve shown him the ropes… Would he have turned out different? Tougher? If he’s still out there, and if he’s open to it, maybe he could still learn a thing or two…’ Kyoya’s contemplation was a mix of calculation and a rare hint of curiosity about Haruto’s potential fate.

‘Kid’s probably long dead, but I bet I could do it. Shit, he was open to the idea of me banging his stepmommy as long as I dropped what shit I did… So that could’ve actually happened. We could’ve been some big, happy family with enough attention…’ He thought, sounds of sizzling can be heard from the kitchen, the aroma of boiled onions roamed around the house.

‘Well, that’s too late now. I already decided what I’m gonna do. His suicide’s only gonna enforce it. I’ll make up something. Maybe tell her about how he probably regrets filming her, he regretted it so much that he wanted to make amends before finish himself off.’

Kyoya exhaled a heavy sigh as he scrolled through his phone contacts, pausing at the name ‘KAZUKI’.

‘What might that scoundrel be into now?’ he mused.

He dialed Kazuki’s number, but only the impersonal tone of an automated message met his ear: [The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later.]
‘Out partying, no doubt. Typical Kazuki, phone dead, drowned in pussy, must likely,’ Kyoya chuckled to himself, a wry smile flickering across his face.

But his amusement was cut short as he wondered, ‘Speaking of which, how did little bro knew what I was doing…? Could he have actually…’

The shrill ring of an incoming call cut through his thoughts.

‘Who’s ringing at this hour? Takoyama? What does the rookie want?’ Puzzled, Kyoya answered the call.

[BOSS! It’s chaos here! We can’t handle this guy—BANG BANG—We need you now! Get over to Blank Avenue, 192nd Street, back alley, QUICK!—CALL ENDS]

“Damn, what a mess,” Kyoya muttered under his breath, adrenaline kicking in as he sprang up from the couch.

Himiko turned sharply at the commotion, her voice laced with concern. “Kyoya, what’s wrong?”
Trying to keep his composure, Kyoya grabbed his phone and made for the door. “It’s nothing, just… just that pesky inspector on my case again.”

“That Sakurai…”

“Oh dear, not that guy again… You should go quickly,” Himiko said, her brow creasing in concern—a look not lost on Kyoya even in his rush. He stepped close to her, gently cupping her face.
“Hold that curry for me, will you? I promise, I’ll be back before it gets cold. I’ll shake them off if it comes to that.”

Himiko placed her hand over his, offering a smile full of warmth and assurance.
“Be careful… And don’t worry about rushing back. Just let me know if you’re going to be late, alright?”

“Thanks…” Kyoya managed, his voice softer than he intended. He turned on his heel, opened the door, and left with a quiet close behind him.

As Kyoya disappeared, Himiko returned to her simmering curry, lost in thought. ‘Well, it’s going to take a while to boil… Now would be a good time,’ She climbed the stairs with a different weight in her step, a pregnancy test clutched in her hand. Alone in the bathroom, she cast a glance at the small device that held her future.

[POSITIVE]

A breath of relief and happiness escaped her, as silent as the secret she now carried.
‘I’m… I’m going to have a baby…’ Her heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

‘Haruto will have a new sibling… Kyoya’s baby… Could this mean… Could we become a real family?’ The vision danced before her eyes: sitting with Kyoya on a sandy shore while Haruto played with his new brother, the waves lapping at their feet and the sunset casting a golden glow on their happy faces. A single tear of joy slid down her cheek.

‘Yes, a family… I’ll see to it that no one ever has to feel alone again. Loneliness… it’s just too hard, too cruel. No one should have to endure it.’

In Mr. Narukami, Haruto’s father, she saw a kindred spirit. She, an orphan, understood all too well the sharp sting of solitude. Mr. Narukami, with his gentle understanding and his own cloak of sadness, didn’t look down on her, or sneered, tried to seduce, as others did. He was different; he was kind. Their bond grew, flowering into marriage when she was still young.
And then there was Haruto.

He was a beacon of laughter, a boy who found mirth in the mundane, who seemed untouched by the loneliness that his father bore. At first, she wondered, ‘Is he just naïve?’ But in time, she saw the truth: his innocence was a gift. It ignited a forgotten warmth within her, a happiness she hadn’t realized she yearned for. She grew to want nothing more than to be by his side, to nurture that infectious smile, just one more time.

‘Looking back, I realize I devoted all my care to Haruto. That must have driven his father away. But who could help it? Haruto, with a father who couldn’t rein him in, still managed to laugh freely. It was as if he was destined for a life filled with laughter, but fate mistakenly placed him in Mr. Narukami’s care…’

‘I can’t help but wonder if he inherited that joy from his biological mother.’

‘Sigh… It’s a heart-wrenching tale… How is Mr. Narukami now? I hope he’s not alone; I hope he’s found companionship…’

With a smile of conviction, she thought, ‘It’ll be alright, Haruto.’

‘We’re going to have a big, happy family. And Kyoya… he’ll help you find a wonderful girlfriend. You’ve made a friend, so it shouldn’t be too difficult… Everyone will find their happiness..!!’

[BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.]

“Oh, what’s that?” she murmured as she got up from the toilet seat. After quickly getting herself together, she followed the beeping noise, which continued insistently.
‘Could it be a fire alarm? I need to check immediately.’

With swift steps, she moved towards the bedroom, her heart racing. Yet, as she entered, there was no sign of fire or smoke—the room remained untouched, just as she had left it earlier in the day.

‘What could this be?’ Her confusion deepened as she located the persistent beeping nestled high among the books.

‘It’s too high up… I can’t just grab it…’

She fetched a sturdy stool and positioned it before the bookshelf, stepping up carefully. Reaching between the volumes, her fingers closed around the object. It was a small, incongruous beeping device.

‘Why would this be here?’ She turned it over in her hands, and that’s when she noticed a compact camera, secreted away next to where the beeper had been.

The camera was coated with dust, except for the clean shape it had left on the shelf. ‘This… It’s been here for quite some time…’

‘Is it Haruto’s doing… or Kyoya’s?’

Then her eyes caught a glimpse of a note attached to a USB drive: “HIMIKO, LOOK AT ME – Haruto”

“Haruto?” She murmured, a mix of curiosity and worry knitting her brows.
She stepped off the stool and approached her laptop, inserting the USB drive with a sense of urgency.

On the drive, there was just one file—a video. She hesitated for a moment before opening it.
A man in a ski mask appeared on the screen, his voice thick with a feigned Indian accent.

“Hello, hello! If you are watching this, you must be Himiko. I am not Haruto, but I had to get your attention.”

As Himiko listened, the man’s accent abruptly shifted to something resembling African.
“I cannot reveal my true identity, yes.”

He paused, his tone growing serious.

“I am pursuing a criminal—Kyoya.”

Himiko’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Could this stranger hold a piece of Kyoya’s hidden past?’ She wondered, her pulse quickening at the thought.
The narrative on the screen took a sudden, dark turn, unraveling the vile task Kyoya was involved in: “That criminal was tasked in exploiting an unsuspecting woman, that would be you, Himiko, to fulfill the twisted wishes of a man known as Kiyoichi Narukami—a man set on the destruction of Haruto Narukami’s life. Kyoya was hired by Mr. Narukami through the dark web.”

As Himiko grappled with her disbelief, the video swiftly transitioned to a series of disjointed clips showing her in private moments with Kyoya. Her breath hitched in her throat as she watched Kyoya approach the camera, an action that occurred just yesterday.
Himiko felt her world tilt.

“What..?”

The laptop nearly slipped from her grasp, her body reacting to the shock, but the video preempted her horror, transitioning to a recorded conversation between two all-too-familiar voices.

The first voice was unmistakably Kyoya’s, his words laced with contempt. “Yeah, the kid’s clearly got issues. Those pills he’s downing like candy? He’s deteriorating day by day. It’s been obvious these past few months.”

Himiko’s hands trembled. “Haruto… Pills…? What…”

Then came the second voice, dripping with scorn and malice, “PFFT, HAHAHA… That weak? My own son?”
She could barely whisper, “Mr. Narukami… How could you…!!”

The audio continued to invade the room, a vile juxtaposition of the intimate visuals involving Himiko and Kyoya, and the heartless banter.

“Yeah, just some cheap sleep aids. A bottle a week, no less… Kid probably can’t get any rest with all the noise his stepmommy makes.”

Their laughter was like daggers. “SERVES HIM RIGHT, HAHAHA!!! Keep pushing him. It should hurt. He stole my wife, my life. He deserves every bit of pain.”

Himiko’s voice broke, “W-wait… Stop…”

The footage rolled on.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Narukami. That kid’s a lost cause. And that woman doesn’t suspect a thing.”
Himiko’s heart ached, “K-kyoya… No… This isn’t you…” She choked on her sobs, her mind assaulted by the happier memories of his presence.

“…It’s effortless, really. Seperating them was as easy as breathing. I guess they weren’t as close as they thought, hahahaha…’

The screen abruptly shifted, showcasing Haruto’s solitary struggles with pill bottles in the stark loneliness of the bathroom.

“Capture those moments, too. I want to see every second of his despair.”

“Your wish is my command, Mr. Narukami. With the rate he’s popping those pills, it won’t be long before he offs himself somewhere nice and quiet.”
Himiko’s fingertips grazed the cold screen, tracing Haruto’s image as though she could reach out and pull him from this nightmare.

“Ha-… Haruto… Don’t… Please don’t…”

Her whispers were drowned out by the continuation of the footage. Of Haruto popping one pill after the other at different times, seemingly.. With no end in sight.

The video then concluded with the mysterious figure’s final words hanging heavy in the air.

“Send this to the authorities, or don’t. Regardless, Kyoya and Mr. Narukami’s apprehension is imminent.”

Overwhelmed by the revelations, Himiko’s mind raced to Haruto—his consistent reassurances, his insistence that all was well, urging her not to fret. It was all a facade, a tragic play where the curtains were now violently drawn.

Without hesitation, she acted, her next steps automatic and urgent. She reached for the emergency contraception. Her resolve solidified with the swallow of the pill; She needs to find Haruto, immediately.

With urgency propelling her every move, Himiko reached for her phone, attempting to dial Haruto. But there was no answer, only the haunting silence that seemed to echo her escalating fear. She whispered to herself, a soft litany of reassurance meant as much for her as for the absent Haruto. 

“Hold on, Haruto. I’m coming,” she murmured, imagining her words as a comforting hand on his shoulder, steadying his spirit until she could reach him.

She rushed to the house’s door, poised on the threshold, a message notification pierced the tense air. Her heart lurched as she read Haruto’s words on the screen.
“Haruto…! He messaged!” Her hopeful expression just as quickly vanished as her eyes darted from letter to letter on the message he wrote.

The phone nearly slipped from her nerveless fingers as she crumpled to her knees. The message, brief and shattering, was enough to drain the strength from her legs, leaving her grounded, grappling with the weight of her words just moments before she had planned to rush into the uncertainty of the outside to find him.

Days stretched long, filled with a heavy silence until the inevitable moment arrived. As the door creaked open, Himiko’s gaze lifted, her eyes pools of solemnity. Haruto materialized in the doorway, his simple greeting, “Hi,” as he passed her.

The urge to envelop him in a hug surged within her, it nearly overcame her. Yet, she restrained the gesture, her arms falling to her sides in silent resignation.

Amid the sounds of zippers and rustling fabric, small talk fluttered weakly; “Where have you rented a house?” she ventured, her voice a tentative whisper.

“Close… Somewhere cheap,” he replied tersely.

The quiet shuffle of Haruto’s belongings melded with the dull thud of Himiko’s heartbeat, each item packed away punctuating the pervasive silence.

“How’s… the packing going?” she asked, awkwardly.

“Fine,”

She watched his movements, looking for a gap to speak “Do you… need any help with the heavy stuff?” She quietly inquired.

“No, I’ve got it,” he let out.

Her gaze flickered around the room, alighting on mundane details—a loose thread on the couch, the slant of light through the blinds—anything to anchor her next words. “Will you be needing any… kitchen stuff? Pots, pans?”

“Again… I’ve got it. Thank you,” He calmly said as he continued packing.

“You look better… Are you working out?” She pointed out, after a careful examination of his physique, to check signs of malnutrition – only to find his body a bit more toned.

“…” Haruto did not reply. Himiko looked down in shame, believing she said something out of place.

“You must be hungry,” she ventured hastily, “I could make something quick if you—”
He shook his head, a subtle but firm barrier to her offer.

“I ate earlier.”

“A-ah… I see.”

“Uhm, are you… feeling alright?” She inquired gently.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Haruto murmured.

In a voice barely above a whisper, she offered, “Maybe you could stay… just for today?” 

“…Or perhaps dinner?” she pressed gently, “I… I have leftovers, from a few days ago when I—”
The sentence stumbled and fell, her eyes widened and cold sweat briefly grazed her forehead as she recalls who was she cooking that for, and she hurriedly corrected course.

“Never mind that, how about some ramen instead? Your favorite…?” Her eyes brightened with the proposal,
“… Thanks… I already said I ate, though. So, I’m not hungry,” Haruto repeated.

She fidgeted, a restless energy building within her as she cast about for something, anything,

“How about a movie then?” she suggested with a hopeful lilt. “We always loved those movie nights, didn’t we?” She smiled.

“…Or a hike, maybe?” she added quickly, the words tumbling out in her eagerness. “We could find a new trail, one we haven’t tried before.”
Haruto’s response came with a hesitancy that cut through her enthusiasm. “You know there aren’t any new trails for miles,”
The silence that followed was profound. She knew it well—the last trail both she and Haruto never walked together, she had already walked with Kyoya.

He walked past her after he finished packing, walking down the stairs. She silently walked behind him.
“Please, stay,” her heart whispered through the silence.

Haruto’s hand hovered over the doorknob, his figure casting a long shadow across the threshold. “Won’t you… be lonely?” She prodded.

He paused, his back still to her, “I’ll be fine,” he replied blankly.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” His stance, silhouetted against the door.
With a weighty sigh, he confessed without turning to face her, “… It’s just something I have to do.”

As Haruto’s fingers grazed the doorknob, the restraint that Himiko had so meticulously constructed crumbled away.
“Why…?” The word was a whisper, yet it pierced the silence sharply enough to halt Haruto’s departure.
He froze, the motion of the doorknob arrested mid-turn, as the question hung in the air/

“I… Understand… If he was still here,” her voice faltered, then rose with a swell of emotion. “But Kyoya isn’t here anymore! There will NEVER be any more Kyoya here. It… It will be just us..!! Just the two of us… You weren’t… You weren’t in pain before he came, right?!” She asked, her voice almost booming

“Things could just… Go back to how they used to be… With just us being happy… You don’t want that…?” She added, tears brimming in her eyes.

Haruto’s hand clamped around the doorknob.

“How they used to be…?”

‘No… Another Kyoya will just come again. I’ve had enough of that,’

He pressed the door knob, but she surged forward, her arms encircling him from behind in a desperate embrace, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t leave me… Please…” Her voice was a whisper.
Haruto almost couldn’t remember the last time he felt such a strong embrace, filled with such warmth and longing… from the person he cherished above all.

“Himiko… I… I’m very selfish,” he confessed, his voice tinged with a somber honesty as he covered her hand with his, acknowledging her hold on him.

“Ehh…? How can you say that!? You’re the most beautiful, kind, and caring kid anyone could ask for…!! you’re—” Her voice broke, tears beginning to thread their way down her cheeks.

A soft chuckle escaped him. “Kid, huh? Yeah, I suppose to you, Himiko, that’s all I ever was,” Haruto said with gentle resignation, turning to face her, his smile bittersweet.

“What…?” She was taken aback, her eyes wide with a mix of hope and dread for what he might say next.

“I wasn’t… A man to you,” he continued, the admission heavy in the air between them.
Color rose in her cheeks, her heart pounding with the implications of his words.

“I was in love with you, Himiko. But I was never the man you could see yourself with, was I?” Haruto’s voice was calm, yet melancholic.

“H… Haru..” Her voice was barely audible.

“That’s why I say I’m selfish… Because I can’t stay in the same house with someone I love… someone who will inevitably find happiness with another,” he explained with a quiet resolve.

Haruto’s voice was a shadow of itself, “I… I was only happy with you, thinking selfishly… of my own happiness. I never really tried to do things for you, did I? I just… took it all for granted, wanted it to last forever without considering anything else. And now here I am, your own stepson, confessing to you… Honestly, It’s better if I just leave.” He muttered, the memory of Kyoya’s lecture playing through his very own lips.

Himiko stood frozen, her eyes wide with a dawning realization. 

The truth that she had unknowingly made Haruto endure nights filled with the sounds of her intimacy with another man. 

Haruto’s voice broke through her cascade of memories. “…You’re a beautiful woman… In every sense of the word. You will find someone who truly deserves you before long…” His words came quietly, tinged with a sense of unworthiness, his eyes cast downward as he fought back tears.

 Standing there, he grappled with his longing to express the feelings that had been simmering within him for so long. To speak them out loud meant another minute, another moment in her presence—to gaze upon her hands, to savor the melody of her voice, to immerse in the floral fragrance that was so uniquely hers.

With a gentle firmness, he took her hands, unwrapping them from his body.

He opened the door as he looked down, and marched forward to the outside, walking away from the warmth of her touch, from the life they had known, carrying with him the imprints of their shared past and the echoes of what could never be.

The tears in Himiko’s eye’s began to shed down her cheeks.

“What if…” The words left her lips, barely louder than a breath. Haruto paused mid-stride as he heard her voice.

He turned back to her, his expression a mixture of longing and resignation, and met her gaze.
“What if I already had someone…” Her voice was a tremulous thread weaving through the still air. “If I told him that… Would he choose to stay…?”

In that instant, time seemed to suspend, the very wind holding its breath in anticipation. There, in her eyes, he saw it—the reflection of his own adoration, the recognition he had yearned for.
But within him, a battle raged—a clash between desire and… And what he had learned from Kyoya Guuji. That he missed his chance, rather than being a Himiko was a dream.

With the ghost of a smile, a whisper of acceptance, he prepared his farewell.
“You said it yourself… Back on the mountain. And you were right; I’m lame. I… I can’t stay.”
“Goodbye, Himi—”
The words were abruptly stolen from the air as an unexpected force collided with his front, sending him stumbling backward into the very arms he had resolved to leave.
Yuuto stood before them, his intervention as sudden as it was forceful. Haruto and Himiko were a tangled mess of limbs and confusion, their hearts racing from the shock and the closeness.
“You’re making this way too complicated, Haruto,” Yuuto said.

“S-Sakurai…?”
“Oh… Another friend of yours, Haruto..?”
Haruto looked at her, unused to being so closed to her face.
“Y-yeah…”
Yuuto let out an exasperated sigh as Haruto and Himiko tried to untangle themselves.

“Look… If it was me from a few months or weeks ago, I’d have told you to get going already and leave your stepmom,”
Yuuto leaned against the doorway.
“But you know, I’ve come to realize something… Humans don’t always have to grow from painful experiences.”
He walked closer, his gaze shifting between Haruto and Himiko, tying them together with his words.

“You selflessly loved her, sure, deep inside, but you also SELFISHLY desired her happiness. Your self-doubt was so damn big that it blinded you to a simple truth—she was already happy. The joy she found in life wasn’t about the gyms, the grand gifts, travelling, or a hunk of a man to handle her. (though it might help)” he said with a slight shrug, “but they were never the source of her happiness.”

Yuuto’s eyes locked on Himiko’s.

“It was you, Haruto. You were the essence of her joy. Your presence made traveling fun, yoga or exercise satisfying. And when you insisted—out of your own insecurity—that she needed more, like the gym, she interpreted it as her being less… less desirable in your eyes. So, inevitably, she looked in Kyoya what she thought she lost in you. Isn’t that right, Himiko?”

Himiko’s cheeks were tinged with the warmth of a delicate blush, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles as Yuuto spoke.

Yuuto paused, recalling Sendo’s words.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this…’

“And sure, she’s said and done some things—things that seemed unnecessary. But weren’t they just her frustration talking? Not her heart, not her true self.”
He inclined his head slightly towards her, prompting, “We all have our moments—anger, sorrow, moments when we act out of turn, say things we don’t mean. Apparently, people who are close often do that without meaning it. But now, take a good look at her.”

Guided by Yuuto’s suggestion, Haruto’s eyes met Himiko’s.

“Tell me, Haruto,” Yuuto’s voice was soft but insistent, “does that look like the expression of someone who doesn’t long to be by your side?”

Haruto, momentarily lost in the depth of Himiko’s eyes as he saw that shine he had longed.
Before the silence broke, Himiko’s voice, fragile as thin ice, began to crack, “Ha-haruto… I’m sorry… For being such a—”

With an impulse as sudden as a summer storm, Haruto reached out, gently lifting Himiko’s chin, and in a fleeting moment, their lips met. The kiss, unexpected and tender, left her momentarily stunned, retreating in a reflex of surprise.

‘Tsk, he fucked it up…’ Yuuto clicked his tongue.

“Ah… I… I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me,” Haruto stammered, his gaze dropping in a mix of regret and uncertainty as Himiko stepped back.

But then, as if guided by an unseen thread, Himiko drew him back toward her, cradling his face in her hands. With a gentle assertiveness, she kissed him, her blush spreading like wildfire to him, their hesitation dissolving in the dance of a shared, exploratory kiss.

Yuuto exhaled a relieved ‘Phew…’ and muttered under his breath with a smirk, “Score one for love, then. That’s 2-1.”

After a heartbeat, Himiko eased away, a mischievous sparkle lighting up her eyes as she held Haruto’s spellbound gaze and looped her arms around his neck.

Haruto, bewitched and barely able to form words, started, “H-… Himik—”
She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a sultry smile, and leaned in close, her whisper tickling his ear. “Call me mommy~,” she breathed out, her lips grazing his earlobe softly, coaxing an involuntary shiver from him.

“Hee~!!” Haruto couldn’t help but gasp out loud, his usual composure undone by her playful intimacy.

He turned to Yuuto, seeking some semblance of solidarity in his flustered state.
Yuuto, with an enthusiastic grin, gave a thumbs-up, though his eyes carried a hint of playful envy. “Nice,” he praised.

Later that evening, Haruto and Himiko laid in bed.

In a clumsy attempt to recreate what he had witnessed her doing with Kyoya, Haruto endeavored to lift Himiko in the way he had seen him do, his movements awkward with inexperience. Being unable to lift her wholly, he crumbled onto the bed, with Himiko laying on top of him.

“Did you… see us do it often…?” Himiko inquired, her voice laced with curiosity. She noticed the shame in his eyes as he averted his gaze.

“….Yes… I tried to do it… Since… You seemed to enjoy it so much—” Haruto’s confession was cut short by a playful flick on his forehead.

“Pervert~…” Himiko’s smile was broad and teasing, kindling a blush on Haruto’s cheeks and a frown of embarrassment as memories of her elation with that man flooded back.

“… Do you want to be like him..?” she prodded further.

Haruto’s voice was but a whisper, “Y-yes..”

“Well, you can’t,” she stated plainly.

Himiko’s voice softened, a playful tilt to her words. “Because you are not him… You are Haruto. And you are much better than any other man~…” as she spoke, Haruto’s heart swelled with warmth, the blush on his face deepening while he lay there, spellbound beneath her.

Himiko leaned in closer, her big breasts aligning with his chest as she imparted her playful yet pointed critique. “In regards to sex… I suppose there’s room for improvement…” her ample figure pressing against him, her hands guiding his face back towards hers with gentle firmness.
“And improve we shall~… With a bit of guidance, you’ll surpass anyone you’re comparing yourself to… Are you prepared for that?” Her voice was a siren’s song, teasing the pout from his lips, sending his pulse into a frantic dance, his cheeks blooming with a fiery blush.

He could only nod, wordlessly assenting.

“Excellent… Then our lessons begin~…” Himiko’s announcement was a whisper that preluded a deep kiss, initiating a dance of intimacy that promised to teach, to taste, and to transform.

——-
Howdy. Author here. 

I intended this to go in a different direction, more of a bittersweet route, but I am just a sucker for fairy-tale endings. I wanted Haruto to leave and set out his own way, grow as a person and develop. But then I thought why not do it while he’s happy. Also, it ain’t like future problems in the story will be solved the same way.

‘I don’t know if I’m making any sense. It’s too complicated. Everything is too complicated. My thoughts are a mess. I hired someone to help me get all romantic with my stepmom that looked after me all those years. I’ve never once even considered she’d find someone to get in a relationship with. I never considered I’d have to share my Himiko with anyone else, ever again.’

‘I was selfish, and took her for granted.’

‘Yet, here I am; facing this guy who took her away.’

‘I’m ashamed of myself.’

‘Because… I know I would never have acted like this if he was just some random person who sweeped her off her feet simply because she caught his fancy. In a way, I’m glad Kyoya is a criminal. That way… That way, what he did is wrong.’

‘Right?’

Kyoya regarded Haruto with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he stepped closer, his powerful build casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the younger man whole. “What is it then? Spit it out, little bro. You seem off.”

Haruto took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He could feel Kyoya’s piercing gaze on him, sizing him up, assessing him. But, Haruto didn’t come here to fight. He knew in his heart, which was burning and aching with guilt – that he was nowhere near strong enough to beat Kyoya.

“I…” Haruto started, his voice wavering before he took another deep breath and steadied himself. 

“I know what you’ve been doing. I know everything.”

Kyoya’s eyebrow quirked up, intrigued.

“Oh really? And what is it that I’ve been doing, exactly?” He folded his arms, furrowing a brow at the awkward young man.

“Please… I’m not here for any games, Kyoya. I know you understand what I’m talking about. Can’t we discuss this like adults?”

“Enlighten me, little bro. Are you upset because I took your mom out for a hike? Isn’t that something you two normally do together, just the two of you?” Kyoya began, his tone laced with provocation. Haruto could feel the certainty in Kyoya’s voice, and even though he knew Kyoya was in the wrong, he couldn’t help but be swayed by it.

“… You see, little bro. You ain’t got some manufacturer’s ownership over the women you like. If you wanna bang some chick, you gotta go for it. Make an effort. I know what this is about, and it ain’t the hike, right?” Kyoya claimed, catching Haruto’s attention.

‘He’s talking as if he knows. Of course, I felt that much was true… With the looks he’d give me when he caught me peeping on them, and those sneers whenever he got physical with Himiko… Maybe he also planted cameras in our house and stalked her…No, He didn’t need to. He studied her, while I was just… I was just glad she was next to me. I was selfish.’

He was speaking crudely, yet evidently. – Haruto thought in shame. The thought of catching the culprit became a second thought, all of a sudden.

“I… Didn’t make an effort at all, then? For Himiko.”

“… Nah, little bro. You didn’t.” Kyoya uttered confidently as he rested his back against a nearby tree.

‘He talks about her as if she’s just some girl I have a crush on… But I hate that he’s making sense… I hate that it feels like an arrow pierces me every time he speaks.’

“You might THINK you did, since you spent so much time with her. You see, guys like you, inexperienced little pric… Little people, they don’t understand. They don’t understand that women don’t consider you important based on how much time you spend together. They consider you important based on what kind of things you did for them. That’s how it always was. It is ALWAYS about what YOU sacrifice. Your gestures. How good of gestures you can make and sacrifice without complaining, how good you can please them…”

Kyoya dragged out that last part with a slight sneer, as if he was recalling intimate moments with Himiko, which made Haruto feel sick to his stomach. However, he managed to suppress it and continued to listen.

“And as for what I did for her… Well, I paid attention, I acted based on her needs, not just what I wanted. I was observant, I didn’t just close my eyes and ignore what was happening around me. The truth is, she needed someone to be there for her, to love her, to climb mountains with her… And I was just the person who stepped up.”

“Himiko, well, she’s a caring person. But she’s not so caring that she’d just wait around forever for her… well, stepson. I’m guessing she was the one doing all the caregiving at home, right? While you were just content, not a care in the world. But here’s the thing… With women, you’ve got to be on your toes. Always thinking, always planning. That’s just how relationships work. And when it comes to…”

At that moment, Haruto had a realization.

‘They’re just the same.’

He could see the same cold, calculating look in Kyoya’s eyes that he had seen in Yuuto’s when he was devising a plan, when he blamed Haruto for pushing Himiko away. Haruto felt like he was talking to Yuuto right then.

‘Sakurai and Kyoya… they seem so different on the surface, but they’re actually the same. But what about Sakurai? What’s different about him? Is there even a difference? He talks about being against betrayal, but I bet if he had been the one interested in Himiko instead of Kyoya, he could have swayed her just as easily.’ 

‘But then again, that’s just unrequited love. It’s not like we were dating. Himiko… she was never forced to do anything she didn’t want to do. Maybe she was lied to, but Kyoya made her happy. He did more than just manipulate her or do something sinister, aside from filming them together without her knowing. I could see the happiness in her eyes. And now, thinking about what both Sakurai and Kyoya have said, I realize I probably made a mistake coming here.’

With this realization, Haruto’s expression softened as he looked at Kyoya.

“…And you? Well, you were just gone. You’re welcome to join us from now on, if that’s what you want,” Kyoya said, his wicked grin barely concealed behind a facade of casualness.

‘I’m not entirely sure what he means by that. Maybe he’s trying to provoke me as part of whatever deal he made with my dad, or maybe it’s just his own twisted sense of humor. But…’

“You might actually be right. I did think that coming here might somehow magically change things. But after seeing her smile when she’s with you, I stopped questioning how she feels about you.”

Kyoya seemed a bit taken aback.

‘He’s capable of making her happy consistently. Perhaps it’s time for me to just… let go. Our relationship is beyond repair; I could see it in her eyes… I’ve failed her.’

“I just… I came here to ask you this. You’ve made Himiko happy, and that’s fine. Just… keep it up, okay? I’ve been thinking about moving out anyway. It’s… probably not healthy to think about your mom in this way, stepmom or not… Right?” Haruto awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he spoke.

Kyoya blinked several times in quick succession, clearly not accustomed to such candidness. “Just… Just spit it out, little bro. What do you really want?”

‘Thank you for everything, Sakurai… Himiko. Goodbye. I’ll just off myself somewhere quiet, without making a scene. But, first… Let me do this final thing for you.’

He sighed, “I know you were hired by my father to do it. To separate me and Himiko. I know you were paid. And I know you stopped me from ending it all for myself just to put yourself in a good light for the job.”

Kyoya’s eyes took on a dark, dangerous glint, yet his voice remained steady and composed as he replied, “And suppose that’s all true? What’s it got to do with you?”

‘…Is it pretense? Is it genuine…? I’m gonna find out. I’ll at least grow a pair before I kick it.’

Haruto’s gaze dropped to the ground, his heart racing with apprehension. It felt like he was taking on an insurmountable challenge, confronting a criminal. All of Yuuto’s stern warnings and explanations about Kyoya, the sound of his voice in the recorded conversation with Haruto’s father – it all made his blood run cold. Here he was, all alone in the mountains, facing off against a man who was undeniably stronger and more cunning than he was.

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: SELIN SORAL – ETHEREAL]

But as the fear choked at his throat, a rush of memories surged through his mind, bringing with them images of Himiko—her warm smile, her boundless kindness, and the strength she had provided him throughout the years. He remembered the gentle way she would cradle his cheeks when he was sad, and the pure joy that would light up her face during their shared movie nights and hiking trips. The stern warnings and meticulous instructions from Yuuto began to fade away, overshadowed by the comforting presence of Himiko.

Lifting his gaze, Haruto’s face broke into a bright, heartfelt smile—the most vibrant one he had displayed in months.

‘Sorry, Anti-NTR Man, Sakurai. It looks like I just wasted my money, haha.’

“She’s my stepmother, and despite my shortcomings over the past month, I care about her deeply,” Haruto said, his voice filled with a soft, melancholic tone. 

“I won’t stand by and let you hurt her any more than you already have. So, delete every piece of footage of her that you have and tell my dad to go screw himself. If you can do that, I’ll accept you being with her. You’re a formidable guy, so I know you’d be able to protect her from any harm.” Taking a step forward, Haruto looked up determinedly at the imposing figure of Kyoya.

 The shadows of the surrounding trees swayed as the breeze picked up, yet they seemed to move around the two.

Kyoya: ‘I’ll give you that kid, that’s the first time I heard things like that.’

Kyoya sighed.

‘You have my respect.’

‘However… It ain’t changes the fact that this is a job. And an important one before we go legit. I won’t fuck it up just because you had some epiphany about your hot mommy… It’s about time I teach you another lesson…’

Kyoya licked his lips.

‘I might just take you up on that offer on your mom, though…’

‘I’m kinda greedy, after all.’

“Nah,” Kyoya muttered dismissively, shaking his head.

Confusion furrowed Haruto’s brow as he tilted his head, trying to understand Kyoya’s abrupt change of tone.

“W-what..?” he stammered, his voice laced with disbelief.

Kyoya’s expression hardened as he looked down at Haruto, “Are you deaf? I said I’ll take care of your mommy, alright… but only after I send all the steamy videos of us together to your drunkard dad.”

Haruto felt his heart plummet into his stomach, thudding painfully against his ribs. The man before him seemed to transform in an instant, his demeanor shifting from calm and collected to downright malicious.

“But… You… You made her ha-” Haruto began, his voice quivering.

“Happy? Oh, I’m definitely making her happy. And your pathetic excuse for a father? He’ll probably leak those videos online or something… But don’t you worry your little head about it.”
Kyoya’s laughter was cruel, a twisted chuckle that echoed through the mountains, sending shivers down Haruto’s spine. Haruto felt a lump form in his throat, his breathing growing labored as a wicked smile stretched across Kyoya’s face.

“After her life is in shambles, I’ll just pin everything on your dear old dad… and you, the jealous little boy who couldn’t stand to see us together, so you decided to spy on us.”

“Stop…” Haruto whispered, looking down as he clenched his fists tightly, feeling utterly helpless.
Kyoya’s laughter grew louder, more maniacal. 

“Pfft, HAHAHAHA! And the best part? Your pathetic attempt to come here and wish us a ‘happy marriage’ is just going to make it all the easier to convince her that you’ve been the creep all along.”

“I SAID, STOP!” Haruto’s voice pierced through the air as he looked up at Kyoya, his face contorted with anger and his cheeks flushed red. He was unable to hold back his emotions any longer, and the spite in his eyes was clear as day. His heart pounded against his chest, fury beginning to overpower his fear.

“…And in time… she’ll believe the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree… And she’ll hate you too. Just as much as she despises and feels nauseated at the mere thought of your father.”
Haruto’s teeth were clenched so tightly together, he thought he might break them. 

Anger and frustration filled him to the brim, until he couldn’t stand it any longer. With a loud grunt, fueled by rage, he lunged forward, his fist flying straight toward Kyoya’s face.

Kyoya saw the punch coming clearly, but instead of dodging, he chose to let it land, grinning slyly as he exaggeratedly fell backwards, as if Haruto’s punch had the strength to knock him down. 

He landed on the ground with a thud, maintaining eye contact with Haruto as he fell.
Standing over Kyoya, Haruto panted heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

He had actually stood up to Kyoya, he had hit him. But as the rush of adrenaline began to fade away, doubt started to creep in. How was it possible that he, with his slender build, was able to knock Kyoya down? The punch didn’t feel powerful enough to do that…

Before he could dwell on it any further, Himiko’s voice broke through, filled with panic and concern. “Kyoya!”

Haruto’s heart dropped as he realized the magnitude of what he had just done… Or more like, what Kyoya had made him do. This was what he must’ve been aiming for all this time, he realized. Albeit, a moment too late.

‘W-wait… D-don’t come near him.. He-he’s..’

Himiko rushed to Kyoya’s side, her eyes filled with concern as she crouched down to assess his condition. She barely gave Haruto a second glance, her focus solely on Kyoya. “Kyoya, are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

‘D-don’t worry about him… He’s a criminal..!’

Haruto, his breathing still erratic from the exertion and surge of emotions, attempted to interject, “H-himiko, you have to listen, he’s—”

But she sharply cut him off, her tone laced with irritation as she shot him a glare. “Quiet, Haruto! This isn’t the time,” she scolded, her words like a slap to his face.

Kyoya, seizing the opportunity, grimaced in pain while sending a sly, victorious glance Haruto’s way when Himiko wasn’t looking.

‘N-no… No… P-please… Please… Listen to me..-‘

“Does it hurt? Do we need to call an ambulance?” Himiko asked Kyoya, her voice filled with genuine concern.

‘S-stop worrying about him…!’

Haruto felt a mixture of frustration, anger, and desperation rising within him. He wanted to yell, to spill everything about Kyoya, but Himiko was not giving him the chance.

“No, I’ll be fine, Himiko,” Kyoya said, his voice strained as he put on an act. “I just didn’t see that coming from little bro… Guess he had more spunk than he let on…”

Himiko finally turned her full attention back to Haruto, her eyes now filled with a mix of disappointment, anger, and disgust. “Is this what you’ve become, Haruto? Resorting to violence because you can’t handle your emotions?” she spat out, her words sharp and cutting.

“I-I… I didn’t do it f-for no reason..! H-he..!!” Haruto tried to speak up, to defend himself and explain, but he was met with a cold, dismissive hand from Himiko.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’ve crossed a line today,” she stated coldly, her gaze piercing through him.

Feeling a lump in his throat and his eyes stinging with unshed tears, Haruto knew he had lost this battle. The situation had spiraled out of his control, and Kyoya had successfully manipulated it in his favor.

“Let’s go, Kyoya… Should we stop for today? Do you need to rest?” Himiko said, her voice filled with disdain when turned to Haruto, warm when asking for Kyoya’s wellbeing.

“Well, I’m fine. So let’s keep climbing. Maybe little bro just needs a time off…” He uttered as he stood up, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“We’ll do that. Haruto, I want you at home, you’ll have to explain yourself and apologize to Kyoya.” Himiko replied, her face determined as she gazed at Kyoya with her caring gaze, sending Haruto her disappointed look.

They both turned around, talking hand in hand. “Thanks…” Kyoya uttered to her as they walked.
Haruto’s heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces as they turned and walked away, the weight of his failure and the harshness of Himiko’s words pressing down on him. He had lost, and the realization was crushing.

“You don’t understand… He’s… a criminal… Why… Why can’t I say anything…?”
His words were barely a whisper, lost in the wind as Himiko turned her back to him. Haruto, desperate and filled with a flicker of hope, lifted his head, his eyes searching hers as she looked back over her shoulder.

But the disdain in her eyes hit him before her words did, his heart sinking as he realized the extent of the situation. “Just because you’re a little jealous of him…” she muttered, her voice laced with disappointment and contempt, “I didn’t think… You were this pathetic. To jab at Kyoya just because we’re a couple…”

‘What…?’

His eyes locked onto Himiko’s, wide open in disbelief at her accusation. Yuuto’s warnings echoed in his mind, his fears and doubts amplifying tenfold as despair whispered in his ear.
‘Why won’t you hear me out…? Why do you assume that immediately…?’

‘Ah…’

She turned away once more, walking away, leaving Haruto frozen on the mountain trail. Kyoya’s sly grin went unnoticed as he followed her, leaving Haruto alone with his thoughts.

‘I guess you’re right… I’m pathetic.’

He watched as they disappeared from sight, his strength giving out as he collapsed onto his knees on the dirt ground. His mind was a whirlwind of self-loathing and disbelief, his gaze distant as he pulled out a small pocket knife he had brought for self-defense.

‘I suppose… It’s time to go…’

The reality of his situation weighed heavily on him as he sat there, alone, his heart heavy with the realization that he had lost everything.

——————–

As consciousness slowly crept back into Yuuto’s mind, he felt an unfamiliar tickling sensation across his body. Groggily, he opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of caterpillars and bugs crawling over him. “AH, DAMN IT, BUGS!!” he screamed, a mix of surprise and disgust in his voice.

He quickly began brushing them off, flailing his arms recklessly as he tried to rid himself of the unwanted guests. It took him a few frantic moments, but he finally managed to get them all off. Breathing heavily, he lay back down, his heart still racing from the shock.

‘Ahhh find me in the OUTS. THERE WAS A SPIDER amongst them. He was two seconds from biting me too… Haaah… I’m in no mood to find out if I can become Anti-SPIDERNTR Man… Anti Spider Enter Man. Man, that sounds cool… Haah.’

Once his breathing returned to normal, he pulled out his phone to check the time, his movements calm despite the recent chaos. 12:47pm. He had overslept…. Too long. He sighed.
‘Well. Damn it. I… I…’

As he slowly sat up, brushing dirt off his clothes, his mind drifted to the mistakes he made-

‘SHUT THE HELL UP! I didn’t make any mistakes! I made NONE. I MAKE NO mistakes.’
His ego, once inflated by his self-assurance and confidence in his abilities, was now terribly injured.

‘NOTHING’S IS INJURED. NO ONE IS INJURED. I’M FINE. It’s this mortal body that I possess throughout my time on Earth that limits what I HAVE to do. I’m ALWAYS doing the right thing. NO ONE knows BETTER than ANTI-NTR MAN.’

And yet, the same person took Sendo’s advice. To simplify.

‘And LOOK where that got us.’

Ah yes, pin everything on the universe. On other people. That’s what you do best.

‘I WILL. Because that is truth. Everyone’s too weak. Too stupid. EVERYTHING SUCKS, I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO ROCKS.’

….
…

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’

Yuuto sighed, lifting himself to a standing position, his body creaking in agony.
‘I’ll go up the mountain. Maybe Kyoya and Himiko decided the ‘bang every 5 meters challenge’ And got delayed enough for me to make my entrance.’

Yuuto started walking. His grogginess slowly wearing off as he marched. He came across a river, and docked to wash his face. He noticed his injuries at his reflection as he was about to wash his face.

‘… I bet my entire torso’s blue as well, from Kazuki and his posse’s beatings…’
Yuuto laid a finger on a swelling he had on his cheek.

“Ah, shit.” He squinted his eyes and tightened his lips in response to the pain. A memory of yesterday’s fists raining down on him flashed before his eyes.

‘My entire body’s a mess… Damn it. I won’t be able to Anti-NTR efficiently like this… Man, mortal bodies suck.’

‘I mean… I got to baseball their asses. But if I keep going like this, I won’t be able to Anti-NTR people for long. I’ll get crippled before I graduate.’
IF you graduate.
‘Hmm… Oh, I get it! I could baseball bat everyone’s asses on wheelchairs. I’ll just have to think about more clever plans. Since it’s me, it’ll be easy. Wheelchair-Anti-NTR Man: I ROLL To Save The Main Character From Getting CUCKED!’

Yet as he basked in the idea, his reflection reminded him of his immediate situation and his mission.
‘Well, it happened, I guess. What can you do about it, besides moving on?’ He thought in his natural casualness as he washed his face in the small river.
Before long, he got up and started walking again, albeit in a slightly awkward way, as if he had a limp.

‘Well… I guess it wouldn’t be bad to figure out how to do things without getting hurt all that much, eh?’

He kept walking for 10 more minutes in his own pace.

‘I mean… It’s not my fault I fell asleep. It’s therefore not my fault for missing Himiko and Kyoya. Therefore-‘

It isn’t your fault if Haruto gets his heart broken forever.

‘….’

‘He shows promise. He was weak, pathetic, and naive, but he shows promise. I can tell. He wants to change, and he is working hard. And I. HAVE. A PLAN.’

And what if some day that plan of yours fails? Even Superhuman-Man failed sometimes.

‘Well, I’M NOT HIM. I’m BETTER. PERFECT. I’m a SUPER-SUPER Hero. My PERFECT plan never FAILED, even if it was tainted by Sendo.’

Yuuto thought to himself, not realizing the contradiction in that statement.

‘JUST ZIP IT! SHUT UP!! What have YOU ever done!? Sitting in your comfort zone, getting all relaxed while I take beating in the name of Anti-NTR. You’re just an observer. But here’s the thing, I’m not mad at you, no. I UNDERSTAND YOUR CASE, and you practically don’t exist. Even as a narrator, you’re weak, just like him, even more than Haruto. So weak, I wanna puke. But I’m not mad at you. Because you belong to the group of people I’m SUPPOSED TO HELP. The WEAK.’

Yuuto thought to himself, slipping deeper and deeper into his unreasonable, contradictory reasoning.

‘Oh yeah? Make me act how you want then,’

….
….

‘I knew it. I don’t need anyone! NO ONE—’ His self-assured monologue broke off as his foot caught on a sneaky vine. He stumbled, and suddenly he was face-down in the dirt, his anger smothered by a faceful of mud.

Yuuto sat up, spitting out a mouthful of earth, and caught his reflection in a small puddle that had formed in a depression in the ground. He stared at the muddy mirror.
‘Was it… the ground’s fault… Or…’ The question hung in the air, unanswered.

He reached up, his hand hesitantly scraping the mud from his face, revealing the bruises beneath. ‘Those punches… if I hadn’t just relied on that bat at the start, would I even have these black eyes…?’
As he sat there, cleaning off the last of the mud, he couldn’t help but think about his choices, stripped of any delusions of grandeur. It was just him, the bruises, and a cold, hard reflection staring back at him.

Yuuto’s gaze drifted to a stubborn bruise on his cheek, a remnant of a punch taken a month back on top of Tokyo Tower. ‘If I’d just given Sendo a way to reach me, would I have kept my guard up better against Kyoya’s goons? Less distracted, more focused?’ He pondered the possibility, the bruise a tangible reminder of the what-ifs that lingered from that day.
He looked down, his pride now lowered.

‘I… I…’

‘I want to be a better Anti-NTR Man… That’s… That’s all there is to it! That’s THE ONLY WAY I’LL ADMIT WHAT I’M GONNA ADMIT NOW…’

‘I don’t care about my character development! I only care about other’s character development… Because without character development… They’d never improve…’

‘I… messed up bad. And I failed my client…’ Yuuto thought to himself solemnly before getting up, walking again.

‘Still… I might spot Himiko and Kyoya. If I don’t see them in an hour after travelling here, I’ll go back home…’

‘…And get some sleep. Apparently, I can’t think without some of it. Afterward, I’ll conjure up another plan. It might’ve gotten insanely difficult, but there’s no obstacle I can’t beat… NOTHING.’

Yuuto found his way through the mountain’s embrace, his face betraying no thought or emotion. There, against the rough bark of an old tree, lay a familiar figure—Haruto—his body still as if in surrender to his silent battle.

Yuuto’s eyes briefly touched upon a bloodied pocket knife lying in the dirt, its work unfinished. With a nonchalance that bordered on insensitivity, he approached and leaned against the tree’s opposite side, listening to Haruto’s breathing, steady yet fraught with weariness.

“Hey there, Cuckooto,” Yuuto greeted, his voice flat, betraying none of the gravity the situation warranted as he slid down to sit.
The sudden presence startled Haruto, but recognition soon washed over him, and the tension bled from his limbs, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Sakurai…” he murmured, almost a whisper lost in the mountain air.

As Yuuto glanced up through the branches overhead, the trees seemed to hold their breath, a quiet moment stretching between them until he finally broke it with a heavy sigh.
“Why didn’t you go through with it?” he asked, his question cutting through the stillness with an edge that seemed too sharp for the delicate moment.

Haruto’s head lifted, his smile a fracture line running through his despair. “Funny, I asked myself the same thing when I stopped.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh, revealing the shallow cuts on his wrist—marks of a moment’s hesitation.

“Was it fear, or was there a glimmer of hope? It was one of those, I guess…”
Haruto’s voice trailed off, his words a mirror to his fragmented thoughts. “I figured if I was gone, Himiko wouldn’t have to deal with my messes. My dad might find some peace. And friends… well, I don’t have any that would miss me. Maybe Himiko would be hurt, but she’d move on, she’s strong.” His voice carried a wistful tone, a sad acknowledgment of his perceived insignificance in the lives of those he cared about.

Haruto’s voice was a low thread in the cool mountain air, laced with a somber realization. “There wasn’t much keeping me here, really. If I was gone, you’d probably be relieved, free from this farce I’ve been living.”

Yuuto considered the confession, his tone unchanging, almost clinical. “Hm. With so little to stick around for, especially after losing Himiko, you’d think it wouldn’t be so hard to end it. So, you were just too scared to go through with it, huh?”

Haruto’s response was barely audible, a whisper in the wilderness. “Maybe…”

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: SELIN SORAL – ETHEREAL]

Yuuto’s eyebrows lifted, a hint of curiosity breaking through his detached facade. “Something else holding you back?”

Haruto seemed to search for the words, his confession floating between them like the mist that clung to the trees. “It might not mean much… But as I pressed the blade to my skin, I all of a sudden thought—’No more swimming… I’ll never see these hands swell from practice again.’ And I just… Stopped.”

It was a glimmer of something deeply personal, a silent acknowledgment of a singular, simple love that, even in the darkest moment, flickered with the will to live.

Haruto’s voice was low, barely more than the whisper of leaves in the gentle mountain wind. “It’s a silly thing. I know. Something so insignificant… Next thing I knew, I moved the knife away.”
Yuuto’s reply stalled. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the rustling canopy overhead.

“Well. It’s…” Words hung unfinished in the air, lost.

“Hm.”

Yuuto’s eyes took in the trees, the scattered light through the leaves, the uneven ground beneath them — all mundane details that somehow, just then, seemed to hold his attention.

Yuuto’s voice finally emerged. “W-well… It’s my-.. Me and my friend’s training, of course it would stop you from killing yourself. You think all those exercises, were all just for a physical goal or something?”

“Hah. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mumble.” Haruto commented lightheartedly.
“…Shut up, cuck.”
A slight twitch, the barest shift at the corner of Yuuto’s mouth. The smile that emerged was devoid of its customary edge and slyness, a silent admission that no words could quite wrap around.

“Either way… I broke Clause 10.”

The words fell, and a short, soft laugh escaped Yuuto, as fleeting as the dappling of sun through the leaves.

“Yeah, I figured as much. Did they backtrack up the mountain? Or keep to the trail?”
“Kept going…” Haruto’s admission was a murmur, fading into the quiet around them.

‘I see… So they won’t be home yet.’

“I see.” The words hovered briefly in the stillness. Yuuto rose, his movements deliberate, the leaves crunching softly underfoot as he approached Haruto.

“Come on. Let’s head back to the house. We’ll work it out from there.”
They began their descent down the trail, with the path unfolding before them, familiar yet holding the weight of their recent trials.
Yuuto broke the silence first. “I’ll level with you. I got a message from my pal. He had something he wanted you to know.”

A pause, then he continued, the words seeming to carve themselves out of him with effort. “He said… He said that even he gets it wrong sometimes.”

“…You know, busting that clause? That was the right call. This thing we’re doing… it doesn’t mean squat if you aren’t learning, changing… growing. Taking a risk… I guess… what I’m trying to say is, both my friend and I lost sight of that.”

A fragile chuckle escaped Haruto, his eyes carrying a quiet resolve mixed with a hint of relief. “Haha… I did something right, huh?”

Yuuto caught the subtleties in his tone, the undercurrent of surrender. “What’s going on?”
Haruto’s gaze settled into the distance. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to move out, live by myself. And I want you to take everything you’ve got on Kyoya to the authorities. Just end it.”

“What about Himiko?” Yuuto prodded gently.

“I’m done worrying about my relationship with her… I’m tired of all these plans, this manipulation,” Haruto’s voice was firm, resigning. “It’s time I faced reality. Himiko called me pathetic… It hurt, but I agree. I need to let go of this fantasy where Himiko is mine. She doesn’t see me that way, she never did. And that’s okay. I can handle her being with someone else, as long as it’s not a criminal like Kyoya. He needs to be out of her life for good.”

Haruto’s plea was earnest as he looked directly at Yuuto.

“Will you help me with this?”

Yuuto met his gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied simply. “I’ll do it.”

‘…But I’ll do it MY way.’

Amidst the dim lighting of the cramped, yet empty establishment, Yuuto’s face was pallid, his eyes bloodshot from the incessant hours of staring at the computer screen at the internet cafe. He felt a sudden tickle in his nose, prompting him to bring a hand to his face just in time to catch a trickle of blood.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, swiping away the blood with the back of his hand, utterly indifferent to the rupture in his vein. He couldn’t afford to care about such trivial matters right now.

His attention immediately shifted back to the task at hand, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he meticulously edited the evidence and voice lines into a coherent video. The ice bag that was supposed to soothe his battered body lay forgotten, slipped off from its position as he became engrossed in his work.

The footage on the screen displayed Kyoya’s conniving grin, Haruto’s mother’s vulnerable expression, and Haruto’s father’s twisted sense of victory. As Yuuto pieced together the puzzle, the story began to unfold—a sinister plot orchestrated by Kyoya and Haruto’s father to drive a wedge between Haruto and his mother.

The pain from his injuries and the exhaustion from the lack of sleep were just white noise in the background of his mind. He was fueled by a singular purpose—to make Kyoya pay.

‘This is for you, Haruto. I’m going to make sure this bastard pays,’ he thought, his resolve steeling as he continued his work, ignoring the fatigue that clawed at him and the blood that now stained his shirt. 

‘Baseballing Kyoya’s ass… it’s the least I can do. I’m doing it only for you, Haruto. Aren’t I such a nice person? Aren’t you glad you paid 10,000 yen for such premium service? Regarding Clause 9… I’ll figure it out later. First comes beating the shit out of that scumbag.’

And with that, he pushed through, as the video slowly came together, piece by piece, ready to expose Kyoya for the predator he truly was.

Glancing at the clock, Yuuto noted the time, “4:30am… They’ll be setting out for the hike soon. I’ve got to prepare.” Pushing himself up from his chair, he attempted to stand, only to feel his legs give out beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor.

‘Damn it… Not now, not again!’ he grimaced, frustration boiling within him.

‘Why? Why now, body?’ he thought, his inner monologue taking a turn for the reproachful. ‘You really want to give in to sleep at a crucial time like this? Do you actually want to witness someone else fall victim to NTR? No, I know you don’t. So why are you acting so weak? Just because of a bit of damage and fatigue, you’re going to collapse on me? I slept at least 2 hours every day, and this is what thanks I get?!’

‘Don’t make me pop another pill to keep you up… I fucking dare you to do that.’
Yet his body wouldn’t listen just yet.

‘Do you think neglecting sleep was MY choice, this past month?! NTR was happening right in-fucking-front of me… I’d be cursed forever by GOD and most importantly, MYSELF if I didn’t do anything and JUST… SLEPT all the time.’

‘…’

Exasperated and at his limit, Yuuto gritted his teeth and muttered through clenched jaws, “FINE, HAVE IT YOUR WAY!” His hand, fueled by a surge of determination, rummaged through his belongings until it found a mostly empty small pill bottle. 

With shaky hands, he opened it and swallowed a capsule, feeling the effects almost immediately.

His senses sharpened, and his fatigue momentarily pushed aside, Yuuto managed to push himself off the ground and stand up. His legs, though still weak, supported him just enough to stay upright. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and whispered with a newfound resolve, 

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you sleep plenty when this is all over.”

“Oh, right,” Yuuto uttered as he turned around, facing the computer he was working on,
‘I need to turn close the tabs and delete the history again… Oh, right, and the usb with everything. I’ll need to take that to…’

And with that, he arranged the spot he was taking at the empty internet cafe, took his belongings and the USB device and left, heading for the mountains.

Aware of the potential consequences of his actions, Yuuto’s thoughts took a darker, more unstable turn. The single-minded pursuit of his goal consumed him, leaving little room for rationality or concern for his well-being. 

All that mattered was making Kyoya pay for his deeds. 

The letters of Kyoya’s name seemed to etch themselves into his mind, each one pulsating with the intensity of his obsession.

K
Y
O
Y
A
H
A
S
T
O
P
A
Y
.
Laughter, unhinged and maniacal, erupted from Yuuto’s lips, echoing the chaotic state of his mind. “KE…Ke…KEHAHAHAHHA!! Ohhhh, the thrill of crushing an NTR antagonist… Oh, what a sight it will be! WHAT AN UNFORGETTABLE RUSH I’M ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE!!! I bet his face of utter defeat will be exceptionally satisfying, especially on that vile bastard…”

His laughter, unrestrained and wild, resonated through the quiet early morning air, capturing the attention of an elderly couple out for their daily stroll.

“Are you okay, young man…?” they inquired with evident concern, cautiously approaching him.
Abruptly, Yuuto’s descent into madness paused as he turned his face towards them, a solitary tear trailing down his cheek.

“D-did you just ask… If I’m okay..?”

“Y-yes… You seemed quite distressed,” they responded, their eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Y-yeah… I was just… Thinking about… Umm…”

‘Damn it, I let myself go too far…’

“About how… I miss my mom and my sisters. They’re abroad on a vacation right now, my dad went after them and now I’m… All alone, I suppose… Not used to it.” Yuuto managed to stammer out, his eyes adopting a distant look.

“O-oh, dear… Well, hold on strong! They’ll be back before you even realize it!” the older woman reassured him with a gentle smile.

He offered them an awkward nod in return, “Yes, thank you.”

Their concern for him evident, the couple exchanged a worried glance before continuing on their way, leaving Yuuto alone once again with his thoughts.

‘Goddamn it. I’m slipping. I need to end it quickly.’ To be fair, you were slipping since you began existing…

‘CEASE. I gotta go now. The video editing took too long, I gotta rush up the mountain if I’m gonna make it in time.’

Yuuto, propelled by urgency, navigated the mountainous terrain with hurried steps. His legs, weary and unsteady, battled against the dirt and rocks beneath them. His body, burdened by an overwhelming sense of heaviness, and his head, tormented by a severe migraine, bore the brunt of a month’s worth of sleep deprivation and relentless exertion. 

Each breath he drew was strained and ragged, a testament to his exhaustion. With blurred and unfocused vision, Yuuto relied on the guidance of his hands to make his way through the dimly lit landscape, the early morning hours yet to yield to the full brightness of day.

Baseball bat in hand, he sought refuge amongst the bushes, sitting on his knees in an uncomfortable position to keep himself awake, preparing himself for what was to come. A glance at his phone revealed the time: 4:53 am.

‘And once they’re separated, my moment will come. But…what exactly was the plan again? How… How was I going to separate them?’

His thoughts swirled in confusion, the exhaustion muddling his memory.

‘Did I…forget the plan?’

Clutching the baseball bat tightly, he racked his brain for answers. A leaf brushing against his other hand which held the USB key jolted his brain.

‘The video…right. Simplicity is key. I didn’t make a plan because I didn’t need one. Everything will fall into place as long as I’m just Anti-NTR Man.’

‘I’ll just ram my baseball up his ass and show her the evidence…’

His whole frame shook once more, uncontrollably.

“Just… gotta hold on… Just a little… longer,” he mumbled to himself, fighting to keep his eyes open. ‘When… when are they supposed to be here again? Did I… get here too early?’

He squinted at his phone again, trying to focus on the bright numbers. 4:58am.

‘I can’t sleep now… If I do, I’m out for the whole day… They’re leaving around 5:45, right? No, wait… I need to stay up until 9:30… They’ll be here in about an hour… Or was it 7:20? I…I need to…’

The bush beside him seemed almost welcoming, its leaves soft and not at all prickly. The gentle morning breeze carried the fresh scent of dew, cool against his skin. It felt safe here, hidden away, shielded from the cold and any potential dangers.

His mind grew fuzzier, thoughts becoming harder and harder to string together, until no thought could be conjured no more. His mind, too exhausted to speak – allowed room for the present to seep in.

“Wow, it’s… it’s so quiet,” he whispered, almost in awe. 

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: SELIN SORAL – ETHEREAL]

His eyes took in the sight of the trees around him, the leaves rustling softly in the wind. He could feel the ground beneath him soft as a bed. Maybe even softer. The world felt alive, tangible in a way he’d never noticed before.

“Was… It always… this quiet? Can… Can you see it too?” he asked no one in particular, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then, he couldn’t hold on any longer. His body gave in, collapsing into the bush, limbs splayed out as he fell onto the soft earth, his back against the tree he had been leaning on.

 
“Don’t… Cry…”

“I’ll… Get your momma back to you…”

“Just…”

“Leave…”

“It all…”

“To me…”

His consciousness slipped away, leaving him in the quiet embrace of the mountain.

————KYOYA———

‘From the moment it started, it seemed almost too natural, like I had found my true calling.’

—–Kyoya, 15 years old—-

“Hey, Minase! What the hell are you doing with him?!” He couldn’t help but shout, his voice quivering as he witnessed Minase, his childhood friend, intertwined hands with me.

Her face turned a shade of red, her eyes flickering away from mine, unable to meet my gaze. But that childhood friend of hers, as well. “I-I’m so sorry, Yokkun… We—Kyoya and I—we’ve developed feelings for each other.”

‘Sorry’ ? What are you sorry for? Is it really a fucking crime to go for me instead of that loser who shakes every time he’s near a crowd? You didn’t say sorry when we kissed, you didn’t say sorry during our first time, but you’re saying it now, in front of him? That fucking guy who treats you like you were his to play with or something? Like you were his Amagoon package he bought online?

“Don’t you dare apologize. What on earth are you apologizing for? For finally finding someone better than a pathetic loser?” I spat out, my voice filled with venom.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!! You’re just some… Street punk who just swooped in and stole her from me! She was mine… My…?” His voice faltered, uncertainty painting his face.

 Look at this guy… Those are his true feelings, Minase. He treated you like you were preowned. Someone who just wants to control your life.

“Yours? Yours what? Look at you; you can’t even put a label on what you had. You never had the courage to make your move, and now you’re throwing a tantrum?” I sneered, reveling in his misery. 

I wanted to see that fucker get hurt. The audacity…

“But we… We had something special!! Misaki, you know it’s true!” He was practically begging now, his desperation evident.

“I’m… I’m really sorry…” Misaki muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Why… Why’re you fucking apologizing?

————————————————–

Witnessing that girl apologize for choosing me over that weakling—it was a revelation. It became crystal clear that so many of these so-called ‘men’ are nothing but cowards, too terrified to stake their claim – and these girls are just really good at pretense and playing the victim. 

At first, I found it amusing, a source of entertainment. Thinking back both of them pissed me off, so much that it was fun seeing them hurt. I liked it all. They both deserved to suffer, people like that. 

It ain’t like I had a family to impress, so I figured why not go all out. I kept doing shit like that. Going after girls who are ‘taken’ and just watch the dude cry, blaming others rather than his own inaction. And every single girl… Every. Single. One, acted like she was some pure maiden, the victim… And I was the evil, evil, bad guy – for actually putting effort and seducing her like a man.

But I wasn’t all that great at it… Not until I met Kazuki, at least.

—-Kyoya, 17 years-old———

“Pfft, you actually sent the fake-boyfriend yours and that girl’s sex tape while he was in front of you?! Won’t you get in trouble with the police?” I asked that weird, snake-like fucker. 

I thought… He was enjoying making people like that suffer, just like me. I pretended to be one of those lame students who couldn’t do shit on their own, and got close to him. He was my first friend.

My best friend.

“Police~..? Chekekek, my dear Kyoya, it seems like you’re still green~… This girl lives in denial and lies to herself about how much of a slut she is. The boyfriend doesn’t want others to see her ‘sacred’, naked body. So, he’s apparently fine with just me seeing it~ kekekek!!” He laughed hysterically as we sat behind the building.

Kazuki was a weird one. I saw him several times in a situation similar to mine and that Minase girl. I liked every moment, I liked how much fun he was having. Considering the shit he’d pull just to see other people squirm, it was hard getting close since he did illegal stuff. My interest peaked when he started charging money to separate students. MONEY. Students would pay him just to separate other students they were jealous of. I wanted to learn how he does it. Having fun while charging money… Imagine that?

“Still, those students who paid for it might get a guilty conscience and tell someone.”

“Naah, they’re too scared to do shit on their own, and now you suggest they’d risk jail time? They’ll keep their mouths nice and shut like good little lapdogs~….”

—————————————–

I was utterly fascinated.

Kazuki had a remarkable ability to read people and adapt instantaneously, using it to his advantage. That man could have easily become a governor, or something even greater, with skills like that. However, the universe demanded balance, rewarding him with the pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.

I found myself drawn to this way of life, following in his footsteps. I became his ally, and together, we sowed chaos wherever we went. It was exhilarating.

I wanted to be greater, aiming to transcend my current abilities. I immersed myself in books for the first time, as unbelievable as it sounds, absorbing a wealth of knowledge. My studies revolved around mastering the art of infiltrating people’s minds and breaking them down from the inside. Seduction. I fancied myself a modern incarnation of an ancient Chinese general, strategizing and manipulating my way to victory.

An opportunity arose for us to prove our worth when we were tasked with seducing a Yakuza boss’s wife in order to gain some leverage in favor of the opposing gang—and I succeeded. I felt as though I found some arcane wisdom, a forbidden knowledge that set me apart. Everything was the same. Kazuki, ever the hedonist, was never really cut out for leadership. He reveled in the pleasures of life and the accumulation of wealth. Recognizing the substantial profits from our latest endeavor, he decided that I was better suited to lead.

As time went on, our group expanded, welcoming more like-minded individuals, and our peculiar enterprise flourished. These guys were the dregs of society, the absolute worst of the worst. But at the very least, they were true to themselves. They knew exactly what they wanted: pleasure, wealth, and play with women as they saw fit. They were honest about their desires, starkly contrasting with other types of men—types like Haruto Narukami.

Honestly, I hate him more than anyone to date.

He never once glared at me or showed any signs of disapproval as I charmed his mother away from him, despite her being one of the few women genuinely worth the effort and the rage.
He never once tried to resist or reclaim what was ‘his’.

He didn’t put up a fight, didn’t try to save her from me, and I wasn’t even resorting to blackmail or threats.

What is his deal, seriously? Even now, I don’t get it… His father’s a piece of shit and his original mama died during childbirth. If I was him, I’d be doing much more messed up shit. Fuck, how’d we came up so different, me and him?

Regardless, I need to stay focused on the task at hand. All that matters is completing the job. Once this is over, I’ll send all the accumulated evidence to that fucking drunkard of an ex of hers and wash my hands of her… permanently. Huh… Today might very well be the last time we meet.

Caught up in his thoughts, Himiko’s voice, laced with concern, broke through his reverie. “What’s wrong, Kyoya? Are you alright?”

Kyoya forced a smile “Y-yeah… Don’t worry about it. Just a bit shook, I suppose.”

“I’ll hold you steady, then,” she replied, her voice gentle, a comforting smile gracing her lips.

‘… She is also an anomaly; she doesn’t apologize, or create drama. Her demeanor is… refreshing. I admit, albeit grudgingly, that I found her company enjoyable—a pleasant deviation from the usual calculated interactions I’m used to… I’ll savor this day as much’s I can.’

Kyoya and Himiko were in the midst of a serene hike through the mountains, enjoying the fresh morning air and the tranquility that nature offered. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

Just as they were rounding a bend in the trail, a figure appeared before them, panting heavily and drenched in sweat. It was Haruto, looking both exhausted and determined as he tried to catch his breath. Despite his state, he managed to give a polite nod and a shaky smile, muttering a quiet, “Hi.”

Kyoya’s instincts kicked in, preparing for a confrontation.

“Little bro? Whatcha doing here, you followed us?”
He anticipated anger, resentment, or despair from Haruto—any of the emotions one might expect from a man in his position. He thought to himself, ‘Oh well, even a weakling like him was bound to snap at some point.’

However, what came next took him completely by surprise. Through his heavy breathing, Haruto looked directly at Himiko and asked, 

“Nah.. I guessed where you’d be, I suppose… Haha. Can I… Talk to Himiko for a sec?” His voice was polite, his demeanor awkward, yet there was a glimmer of resolve in his eyes.

For a moment, Kyoya was taken aback, his prepared retorts and defensive stance rendered unnecessary. “Yeah, sure,” he responded, his tone laced with a hint of confusion.

Himiko, equally surprised and worried, exchanged a quick glance with Kyoya before turning her attention to Haruto. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity, clearly taken aback by his sudden appearance and the polite request that followed. The air was charged with tension, as all three individuals braced themselves for the conversation that was about to unfold.

“…Alone, if possible?” Haruto added, his voice barely above a whisper as a flush crept up his cheeks, his demeanor growing increasingly awkward and tentative.

Himiko nodded, albeit with a noticeable trace of hesitation in her movements. The two of them moved a bit away from Kyoya, finding a semblance of privacy amidst the vastness of the mountain.

“So, um, how have you been? What have you been up to?” Haruto asked, attempting to make conversation, though his voice wavered slightly.

“I’ve been good, actually. Kyoya, he’s… he’s a really good guy,” Himiko responded, her voice steady, but there was a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
At her words, Haruto’s body tensed ever so slightly, his smile faltering for a brief moment before he regained his composure, offering her a sad yet understanding smile that she failed to notice.

Himiko’s eyes narrowed slightly as she continued, “But I don’t understand, Haruto. Why didn’t you ever call? You only ever sent messages… I was worried. I.. I can understand being bothered by my new relationship… But that’s not a reason to… To just pretend I don’t exist!”
Haruto seemed to falter, his eyes darting away as he avoided her piercing gaze.

“Well, I… I’ve been busy, and I thought…”
His voice trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished, and Himiko’s patience began to wear thin, though she maintained a calm exterior. “Haruto, why are you here? What did you come here to say?”

Haruto took a deep breath, his mind racing as he contemplated his next words. He could tell her everything—that Kyoya was a manipulator, that he was only with her because of a job he was paid to do by his father. That Haruto was working hard in the past month on himself. 

But he could see the happiness in her eyes, and he knew that revealing the truth would shatter her world. In a way, he felt that he had no right.

He made his decision. His voice soft, yet filled with sincerity, he looked into her eyes and said, “Himiko, I love you. And I’m glad… I’m glad you’ve found happiness with someone. That’s all.”
His words hung in the air between them, a bittersweet confession that left them both in a vulnerable silence.

Himiko offered a small, understanding nod, her expression softening as she misinterpreted Haruto’s confession for a familial expression of love and concern. “Thank you, Haruto,” she whispered gently, giving him a small, weak smile before turning around to walk back to Kyoya.

As she approached Kyoya, her footsteps light on the mountain path, she relayed the conversation to him. “Haruto… he just told me that he loves me. He’s glad that I’m happy with you, I guess… That was important enough for him to come here…” She uttered, the shimmer in her life grew dimmer as she gazed at the soil.

Kyoya’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he processed her words, a faint smirk playing on his lips. 

‘Wow. That’s… That’s just sad, little bro. Were it not for this job, I’d have taught you a thing or two about women. Really… Really doubt it woulda helped you, though. What a lost cause. I get why I hate you so much. It’s because you really are more pathetic than anyone I’ve ever met.’

Even he, with all his manipulations and schemes, couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for how utterly pathetic Haruto’s attempt had been. Himiko was completely oblivious to any romantic implications, and Kyoya couldn’t decide whether that was hilarious or just depressing.

Shaking his head slightly, Kyoya prepared to move on, ready to continue their day and leave the awkward encounter behind them. “Uhm, little bro won’t be joining us, then?”

Himiko moved forward to the trail, not sparing a single look at Haruto. “… I guess not.”

But just as they were about to take their next steps, Haruto’s voice cut through the air, stopping them in their tracks.

“KYOYA.” Kyoya then snapped his head, turning his gaze at Haruto.

“Kyoya, can I talk to you for a moment?” Haruto called out, his voice steady but there was an undeniable tension in the air. “Alone, if possible.”

Kyoya fully turned around, an eyebrow raised in surprise. He exchanged a brief glance with Himiko, who looked just as taken aback as he felt, before nodding and making his way over to Haruto.

‘Well, how about this…’

As he approached, Kyoya braced himself for whatever Haruto had to say, curious to see what the seemingly meek man had in mind.

“Whacha got, little bro?”