Morning came far too fast.
Miyako woke up with a gasp, her head splitting like it was being cracked open from the inside. She groaned and rolled onto her side, clutching her temples.
"Why… why does it hurt this much…" she croaked.
Her mouth was dry, her stomach uneasy, and every movement made her regret being alive. The sunlight slipping through the curtains felt like an attack.
Bits and pieces of the previous day floated through her mind.
Flashes of bright lights.
A karaoke bar.
Blood.
Popcorn? What was popcorn doing in her memories at a karaoke bar?
A man's back. The man was shirtless for some reason.
But none of it stayed long enough to make sense.
She slowly reached for her phone, wanting to see what time it was. Then suddenly, a glimpse of blocking her friend's number appeared in her mind.
"What? Why did I do that?" she wondered as she went to read the chat history.
Looking at it, it was clear that her friend had done something wrong. She was making a bunch of excused but Miyako, although she didn't know the full story, didn't bother to unblock her.
"Whatever reason I blocked her, it must've been for a good reason," she concluded.
Now the problem at hand was how to solve this headache. This ugly hangover. The first one she's ever had in her life.
About to search up hangover remedies, she saw the recent entries in her search history.
"Otsuka Yasuo? Otsuka Koji net worth? How much is the Otsuka family worth?"
She began reading some of them out loud.
"…Huh?" she whispered. "Why was I searching that up? What happened yesterday?"
Her heart started beating faster as she felt frustrated that her memories were incomplete and that she was being left out in the dark about something she was personally involved in.
Going through all her apps to search for a clue, she found a new contact and the name attached to it stared back at her from the screen.
"Otsuka Yasuo? Why in the world do I have his phone number?"
Her breathing started to hitch.
"…Why do I have his number?" she murmured, repeating the question as panic crept in.
Her mind raced, trying to fill in the blanks her memory refused to give her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember how it happened.
Talking? Exchanging numbers? When?
She must've met him at the karaoke bar. After all, weren't the group of men who were there friends with Yasuo?
Her chest tightened.
"Kenta…" she whispered.
The thought hit her all at once, heavy and awful.
Had she… cheated?
During her drunken state, had she done something stupid? Something unforgivable?
Her hands started shaking as she stared at the screen, dread pooling in her stomach.
"I messed up," she said softly, eyes wide. "I really messed up."
* * *
There was a pile of bodies lying in the room.
They weren't dead. They were just beaten to the brink of it and were broken enough to never forget about this day for the rest of their lives.
Something in him had snapped when he had kicked the door open earlier.
Yasuo didn't know he had this in him, but the moment he realized they were using his name to lure girls, his blood had already been boiling; seeing it face to face made it boil even higher.
How dare they use his name? He was no longer the old Yasuo, but how was he supposed to be reborn anew when people were keeping rumors of his evilness alive?
He had never hit anyone before, yet every punch he threw was heavy.
By the time he finally stopped, his breathing was rough and uneven. His knuckles were split, red and swollen, and the floor was covered with men groaning in pain.
"Did you really give my number to some random girl?" Yasuo asked as he wiped off the blood on his knuckles using one of the men's shirts that he had ripped off him.
His chest was still rising and falling too fast, but he was trying his best to settle it.
Behind him, Tadashi let out a long whistle. He ignored Yasuo's question.
'You'll ask for it later, so I might as well get her number now before you ask. And yes, I gave her your number. That way she'll know when it's you texting her.'
He rolled his eyes.
"…Damn," Tadashi said, stepping over one of the bodies. "You really went all out."
Yasuo didn't answer right away. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers slowly. They hurt, but not as much as he expected.
"I didn't mean to go that far," he said finally. "But once I started… I couldn't stop."
"Why are you acting like this is something crazy for you? This probably isn't even in the top ten worst beatings you've given people before." Tadashi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, studying him. "That's the scary part about you though. You know how powerful your parents are, so you don't hesitate on not pulling your punches."
Yasuo frowned. "It was justified this time. They were lying on my name."
"Yeah, yeah," Tadashi waved it off. "Still. You could've just informed the authorities and let them handle this."
The only reason Tadashi didn't do it for him or try to stop Yasuo because he knew that no matter what he did, it wouldn't matter. Yasuo always got what he wanted.
He was his closest friend but he was also a complacent bystander who felt pity for Yasuo's victims while also trying his best not to offend him too much because his father's business was reliant on his friendship with Yasuo.
Yasuo glanced at the men again, his expression dark. "At least it wasn't the old me that walked in. Old me might've killed one of them."
That made Tadashi pause.
"Old you? What are you talking about, old you?" he laughed. "There's no old you or new you. You haven't changed one bit."
Yasuo exhaled slowly. "That's where you're wrong, my friend. There is a new me. A me that is done with everything."
"Done with what?" Tadashi asked.
"With messing around," Yasuo said. "Especially with girls who already have boyfriends. That shit doesn't really turn me on anymore."
There was a moment of silence between the two.
Then Tadashi burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha. Were you going to school for comedy? That was the funniest joke I've heard in a long time."
Yasuo's face remained unchanged.
"You meant it? Oh, that's even funnier," Tadashi said, bending forward slightly. "What, did you get hit in the head instead of them?"
"I'm serious," Yasuo replied.
"Sure you are," Tadashi said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "You changing is impossible."
"It isn't."
"It absolutely is."
Yasuo scowled. "I really mean it. I don't care whether you believe me."
Tadashi shrugged, "I'll believe it when I see it. And no, I don't believe in none of that AI shit like that fake video of you helping the lady cross the street. That was so fake I couldn't believe someone would drain a river's worth of water for that crap."
Yasuo didn't bother arguing.
He felt tired all of a sudden. The adrenaline was wearing off.
"Let's get out of here," he said. "I'm starving."
"Now you're talking," Tadashi grinned. "I know a hibachi place nearby."