8.0
Narrator: Kushida Kikyō.
11:47 PM.
The message had arrived exactly three minutes ago.
[Second deck. Room 215. 11:50 PM. Come alone] - Ike Kanji
Short. Direct. No unnecessary explanations.
And absolutely irritating.
I stared at my phone screen in the privacy of my shared room, feeling how the familiarity of the message churned my stomach unpleasantly. My roommates—Hasebe, Mori, and Inaba—were already asleep, their soft and steady breathing filling the silence of the dark room.
Of course he wants to meet at midnight, I thought bitterly, gripping the phone harder than necessary. In a secluded place. No witnesses. Exactly the type of move you'd expect from someone who has blackmail material on you.
The recording.
That damn recording of my venting on the upper deck two nights ago. My voice, my true tone of voice, spitting venom about Horikita, about Karuizawa, about basically half our class.
And he had it all. Every word. Every insult. Every barely-contained death wish.
Manipulative bastard.
I got up from my bed with silent movements, being careful not to wake anyone. I was already dressed casually, shorts and a light hoodie because I had anticipated that Ike would probably ask me to meet at some point. After all, tomorrow officially began the zodiac exam and with the threat of exposing me if I betrayed the class, he clearly had something planned.
Something that requires my cooperation, I analyzed as I slipped toward the door. Otherwise, he wouldn't bother contacting me directly.
I stepped out into the empty hallway, my steps muffled by the soft soles of my sneakers. Deck 4 was completely deserted; at this hour, all or most sane students were already asleep, preparing for the next day's exam.
Everyone except us two, apparently.
As I walked toward the stairs that would take me to the second deck, I couldn't help but reflect on the situation I found myself in.
Ike Kanji.
The supposed perverted idiot of our class. One of the "three idiots" along with Yamauchi and Sudō. The guy who used to drool over any girl who walked by, who constantly failed exams, who was the very embodiment of academic incompetence.
Except that... he wasn't anymore.
Something had changed. Drastically.
During the island exam, he had started showing signs of competence that definitely hadn't been there before. His handling of the fire incident, his ability to organize the class when even Hirata had been overwhelmed, that strange accent that had appeared out of nowhere... I hadn't given it importance at that moment; I just thought Ike wanted to show off. The stupid bastard was probably just trying to look good.
Only now I sincerely regret not approaching to investigate that behavior when my identity wasn't exposed.
And then there was that night on the upper deck.
The way he had caught me venting. The way he had pinned me against the wall with surprising ease. The way he had read me—seeing right through my perfect mask, as if it were transparent.
And that damn recording that now hung over my head like a sword of Damocles.
I hate you, I thought venomously as I descended the stairs toward the second deck. I hate you so much, Ike Kanji.
Not just because of the blackmail. Sure, that recording was what I hated most, but even before the recording I already hated the disgusting idiot Ike.
No, what really bothered me was the way he looked at me.
As if he knew something I didn't know. As if he could see something in me that no one else could see. As if...
As if he understood me.
And that was the scariest thing of all. I hated to admit it, but the hungry, thirsty dog look for girls was less terrifying than his new look.
I arrived at the second deck—the same silent and secluded deck where the exam explanation meetings had taken place. At this hour, it was completely deserted, only the soft hum of the ship's systems and the distant sound of waves filling the air.
I found room 215 without problems. The door was ajar, a dim light filtering from inside.
How dramatic, I thought sarcastically as I approached.
I stopped just outside the door, breathing deeply to calm the nerves I definitely wasn't feeling. Then, with deliberately slow movements, I pushed the door to open it completely.
The room was smaller than the meeting rooms where we had received the exam explanations. Just a table in the center with some chairs around it, a window offering a view of the dark ocean, and...
Ike Kanji.
He was sitting casually in one of the chairs, leaning back with his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. He wore casual clothes, sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and looked completely relaxed.
As if this were just a casual meeting between friends instead of a midnight blackmail session.
When he heard the door open, he turned his head to look at me. A slow smile—confident, almost arrogant—formed on his lips.
"Kikyō-chan," he greeted me with that casual tone of his that I had allowed him to use before the blackmail. "You're early. It's 11:49. I'm impressed by your punctuality."
Kikyō-chan, I noted with irritation. I hate that he acts like we're close. I wish I had refused Ike when he asked me; now I have to put up with it.
I entered the room without responding, closing the door firmly behind me. The click of the latch echoed in the small space, finalizing any illusion that this was something other than what it was.
A private meeting. No witnesses. Just the two of us.
I crossed my arms, looking at him with the coldest expression I could muster.
"Why did you call me here, Ike?" I asked in a flat voice, dropping any pretense of my sweet personality. There was no point pretending with him, not after that night on the deck.
Ike didn't respond immediately. He simply studied me for a long moment, his eyes moving over my face with that disconcerting intensity he had started to show.
Then, finally, he gestured toward one of the empty chairs in front of him.
"Sit down," he said simply. "We have a lot to talk about."
"I prefer to stay standing," I responded curtly.
"As you wish," Ike shrugged, completely unconcerned by my hostile attitude. "But this might take a while. Your legs will probably get tired."
I glared at him, but after a moment of tense consideration, I finally moved toward the chair and sat down.
Not because he told me to. I just did it because... it was the logical option. This would probably take time and staying standing out of pure stubbornness would be stupid.
Once seated, I kept my arms crossed defensively over my chest, my posture rigid and unwelcoming.
"Fine," I said impatiently. "I'm here. What do you want?"
Ike leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked directly into my eyes. The relaxed expression from before had disappeared, replaced by something more serious.
More... calculating.
"Tomorrow the zodiac exam begins," he started without preamble. "And we both know this isn't an ordinary exam."
"Obviously," I responded sarcastically. "You didn't need to call me at midnight to tell me the obvious."
"Patience, Kikyō-chan," Ike said with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm getting to that."
He paused, as if ordering his thoughts.
"You're in the Dragon Group, right?" He asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
"Hirata," he responded simply. "He was the name of the group you're in, though I also did a bit of my own research; after all, it's not that hard to find out what group a student is in just by asking," he shrugged. "Nobody thinks the group name is that important; that's why they tell you immediately."
Of course, I thought with irritation. Because apparently now Ike Kanji is a research genius.
"Fine," I admitted reluctantly. "I'm in the Dragon Group. So what?"
"Who else is in your group?" Ike asked directly.
I hesitated, considering whether I should answer. But then I remembered the recording—that damn blackmail material hanging over my head—and decided that cooperation was probably my best option for now.
"Horikita," I said in a flat voice, unable to prevent some venom from seeping through when mentioning her name. "Hirata-kun. From Class C, Ryūen-kun and three more. Kanzaki-kun from Class B, along with two others. And from Class A, Katsuragi-kun and three more."
Ike nodded slowly, as if processing the information.
"A pretty heavy group in terms of leadership," he observed. "Basically all the main leaders from each class except Ichinose."
"Yes," I confirmed bitterly. "It's going to be absolutely fun dealing with all those egos clashing."
"I imagine," Ike said with genuine sympathy or at least, what seemed like genuine sympathy. "Especially having to maintain your perfect mask while Horikita is there being... well, Horikita."
My eye twitched at that.
"Don't start," I warned in a low, dangerous voice.
Ike raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, though the amused smile on his lips completely ruined it.
"Just making an observation," he said lightly. "Anyway, your situation gives me useful information."
"Useful for what?" I asked suspiciously.
"For my plan," Ike responded simply.
"A plan? You?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Ike, you can barely pass a math exam without help from the curve."
Ike ignored my mocking comment and leaned back in his chair again, that thoughtful expression returning to his face.
"This exam," he began slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, "has four possible results. Result one: complete group cooperation. Result two: complete failure. And results three and four—betrayal."
"I know," I said impatiently. "Hoshinomiya-sensei explained it to us. What's your point?"
Ike's eye twitched irritably at the mention of Hoshinomiya-sensei. I tilted my head while narrowing my eyes, but immediately decided it wasn't important right now.
"My point," Ike continued unfazed by my tone, "is that each result benefits different people in different ways. And if you play your cards right, you can manipulate which result occurs in your group."
I stared at him, processing his words.
"You're planning to manipulate the exam results," I said slowly, not as a question but as a statement of fact.
"I wouldn't say 'manipulate'." Ike shrugged casually. "I prefer 'strategically influence'."
"That's literally the same thing," I pointed out in a flat tone.
"Semantics," Ike waved his hand dismissively. "The point is I have a general idea of how to make certain results occur in certain groups. And I need your help to execute it."
There it was. The real reason he had called me here.
"And if I refuse to help?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Ike gave me an empty, flat look, one that clearly said 'we both know you have no choice' and said nothing.
He didn't need to say it. The implication hung in the air between us like a storm cloud.
The recording.
I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.
"Bastard," I muttered quietly, though without real heat behind it.
"I know," Ike responded cheerfully. "But I'm a bastard who uses this blackmail to help our class get out of this deplorable situation we've found ourselves in. So really, you should be grateful."
Grateful, I repeated mentally with bitter disbelief. He wants me to be grateful for blackmailing me. I'd rather the class rot in the mud or burn in hell before anyone knows my secret and worse yet that he has a recording.
"Fine," I finally said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. "What do you need me to do?"
Ike smiled, a genuine smile this time, full of satisfaction.
"For now, I just need information," he explained. "Specific names of everyone in your group. Not just the main leaders you mentioned, but everyone. Every member of the Dragon Group. Including the extras."
"Why?" I asked suspiciously.
"Because," Ike responded patiently, "I need to do a verification and I have a suspicion that the VIP might not be chosen randomly, but would be chosen in a specific way, but I won't be able to confirm it until the VIP is revealed tomorrow with the school's message."
I stared at him.
"That's... impossible," I said with disbelief.
Ike Kanji? Being observant, that was impossible. It was like telling a dog to fly; you know it's not going to happen because that's not possible. I honestly wonder if all this is a hallucination or nightmare, caused by exhaustion.
Ike continued explaining while I was thinking with disbelief: "If my hunch turns out to be true, then all the names from each group will be very useful to me. Also, I want you to help me manipulate the boys and some girls to send the names of the VIPs from the other classes. If we coordinate them correctly, we can achieve Result 3 in several groups and manage to get several points for our class."
This was crazy... I didn't know if Ike was drugged or really believed his plan was going to work. And I didn't know what to think; I never expected in my life that plans coming from Ike's filthy mouth would have a good impression on something.
Despite the shit he just dropped on me, it could just be a wild theory or an unfounded assumption with the little information we were given. I can't dismiss it as simple nonsense.
Maybe if it were the Ike from before, the Ike I hadn't gotten to know before he blackmailed me, I could have taken it as delirium and laughed about it privately for how absurd it sounded, but now I have to consider it to my misfortune.
"Fine," I finally said. "I'll give you the names. But later. I need time to gather all the names from each group."
"Perfect," Ike nodded with satisfaction. "Send them to me by message once you have them. And Kikyō-chan..." His tone became more serious. "This has to remain completely confidential. No one can know about this. Understood?"
"Obviously," I responded sarcastically. "It's not like I want to announce that I'm being blackmailed or tell the world that I'm following an absurd plan created by none other than Ike-kun."
"Well, technically it's not blackmail," Ike corrected with a smile. "It's more like... mutual incentive to cooperate, plus you say my plan is absurd, but when you hear it completely you'll be amazed."
"I doubt it," I snorted, rolling my eyes at his arrogance. "Besides, you can call it whatever you want, but your instructions are still coercion."
"Semantics again," Ike waved his hand dismissively.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as we looked at each other across the small table.
Ike finally decided to break the silence.
"Do you remember our conversation the other night?" he asked casually.
Remember? REMEMBER?
Of course I remembered. It was all I had been able to think about for the last day.
"Yes," I responded with a tense voice. "I remember it very well."
"Good," Ike nodded, still not looking at me. "Because I've been thinking about that. About... our situation."
Our situation.
What a clinical way to describe a relationship based on blackmail.
"And?" I pressed, crossing my arms. "Where are you going with this?"
Finally, Ike turned to look at me, and the expression on his face was... strange. Not malicious, not mocking. Almost... serious.
"I don't want to be your enemy, Kikyō-chan," he said in a surprisingly sincere tone. "And I don't want this... situation between us to be just about blackmail and threats."
I blinked, genuinely surprised.
What?
"Excuse me?" I managed to say, my voice coming out higher than I intended.
Ike sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot—"
"'Wrong foot'?" I repeated with disbelief. "That's what you call blackmailing me?"
"—but," Ike continued as if I hadn't spoken, "it doesn't have to be this way forever."
I stared at him, trying to decipher if he was being serious or if this was some kind of twisted game.
"What are you trying to say?" I asked cautiously.
Ike straightened up, putting his hands back in his pockets as he looked directly into my eyes.
"I'm saying I'd prefer if we were... partners. Allies, even. Instead of this blackmailer-victim dynamic we have now."
One second passed.
Two seconds.
Three.
And then I laughed.
Not a polite, friendly laugh. A real, genuine laugh, full of absolute disbelief and a touch of hysteria.
"Partners?" I managed to say between laughs. "PARTNERS? Are you joking?"
Ike didn't laugh. Didn't smile. Just watched me with that serious, calm expression.
Which, somehow, only made me laugh harder.
"Oh, my God," I gasped, wiping away the tears that had started to form in the corners of my eyes. Seeing the seriousness, I stopped and stared at him with disbelief.
"You really mean it," I gave him a cruel, angry smile. "You really think we can be partners. What nonsense you're saying, Ike-kun."
Ike responded seriously. "Look, I know you hate me. Believe me, I understand. I caught you at your most vulnerable moment, recorded evidence that could ruin your social life, and now I'm using that to make you cooperate. From your perspective, I'm the worst type of person."
I didn't argue with that. Because he was right.
"But," Ike continued, leaning forward again, "here's the thing: I don't want to be your enemy, Kikyō-chan."
I snorted with disbelief. "So you just want to be my blackmailer? How generous."
"I can give you more benefits; you wouldn't just have to obey my orders, but you could also get some things from our cooperation relationship."
"How stupid are you?" I spat, glaring at him, giving him a look full of resentment. "You blackmail me, threaten to ruin my life and expect me to trust a word you say and that you sincerely want to be my friend? In what universe does that make sense?"
"I didn't say friends," Ike corrected calmly. "I said partners. Allies. There's a difference."
"It still doesn't make sense!" My voice rose, frustration boiling to the surface. "Why the hell would I want to be your ally when you have a loaded weapon pointed at my head?"
Ike studied me for a long moment, then spoke in a softer tone.
"Because despite what you think, Kikyō-chan, I'm not your enemy. And I don't want to be. I already told you and I'm telling you again."
"Then delete the audio," I said immediately, my eyes narrowing dangerously. "If you really don't want to be my enemy, delete the recording. Right now."
Ike shook his head slowly.
"I can't do that."
"Of course not," I scoffed, turning toward the door. "Because you need your little insurance. Your leverage over me."
"It's more complicated than that," Ike said with a sigh.
"Oh yeah?" I turned back, glaring at him. "Then why don't you enlighten me? Because from where I'm standing, this looks pretty simple: you have me by the throat and you're enjoying every second of it."
"I'm not enjoying it," Ike responded firmly, meeting my gaze without wavering. "Contrary to what you may think, this isn't fun for me."
"Then let me go," I said through clenched teeth.
"I can't," he repeated. "Because if I let you go—if I deleted that recording—what would stop you from betraying me? From trying to destroy me before I could do the same to you?"
I gritted my teeth with frustration and wanted to hiss at him and bare my teeth, but I restrained myself.
As much as I hated it, he was right.
If he didn't have that recording, if he had nothing on me, I would absolutely look for a way to destroy him. To make sure he could never threaten me again.
Because that's who I am.
That's how I survive.
"Exactly," Ike said quietly, as if he could read my thoughts. "That's why the recording stays. Not as a threat, but as... mutual insurance."
"We both know that's not 'mutual insurance'," I spat. "There's no mutual, just you."
Ike shrugged. "The point is I don't want to use it against you. I don't want to publish it. I don't want to ruin your life."
"Then what do you want?" I demanded, my patience finally completely exhausted.
Ike looked directly into my eyes.
"I want you to consider the possibility of working with me instead of against me. I want you to see that we could be... useful to each other."
I let out a bitter laugh.
"'Useful to each other'? Is that all I am to you? A tool?"
"No," Ike shook his head. "But let's be honest here, Kikyō-chan. We both use people. We both manipulate situations for our benefit. You're not better than me in that regard."
My teeth clenched.
I hate that he's right.
Ike sighed, running a hand through his hair with what seemed like genuine frustration.
"Look," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I know how this sounds. 'The guy who's blackmailing you wants to be your friend.' It's ridiculous. I get it. But..." He paused, searching for the right words. "The truth is I understand you, Kikyō-chan. More than you probably think."
"You don't know me," I said in a low, dangerous voice.
"Don't I?" Ike raised an eyebrow. "I know you maintain a perfect mask every second of every day. I know you hate Horikita with every fiber of your being. I know you resent Karuizawa and her gang. I know you're absolutely exhausted from pretending to be someone you're not."
Each word hit like a hammer, and I felt my breathing become shallower with each precise observation.
"Shut up," I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction.
"I know," Ike continued relentlessly, "that you're completely alone, Kikyō-chan. Surrounded by people who 'love' you, but none of them really know you. They all love the false Kushida Kikyō—the sweet, kind, helpful girl who's always smiling."
He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on mine.
"But nobody—nobody—knows the real Kushida Kikyō. The one who's full of hatred and frustration. The one who wants to scream and destroy things. The one who's so tired of maintaining that perfect facade that sometimes she just wants to collapse."
I felt something twist painfully in my chest at his words. Because he was right. He was absolutely right.
And that was what hurt the most.
"So what if it is?" I spat, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. "What difference does it make? This is my life. This is my choice. I'd rather be alone than—"
"Than what?" Ike interrupted softly. "Than risk showing someone your true self? Than risk someone seeing you as you really are and deciding they don't want you?"
I fell silent, because what could I say to that?
Ike sighed, leaning back in his chair again.
"Look, Kushida-chan," he said in a gentler tone, now dropping the mocking nickname he gave me to declare his superiority, "I'm not saying we're suddenly going to be best friends. I'm not saying you have to trust me completely. But..." He paused. "What if we try something different? Instead of being blackmailer and victim, what if we're... allies? Partners who work together because it benefits both of us. Like a symbiotic relationship."
"As long as you have the recording, it will never be an honest relationship; it will always be based on blackmail," I pointed out in a flat tone.
"Maybe," Ike admitted with a shrug. "But at least it's blackmail with mutual benefits. You help me with my plan; I'll make sure you get a reward; and if you want, you can even take all the credit for my plans. And who knows..." A small smile appeared on his lips. "Maybe over time, we could become something more than just forced allies."
I looked at him skeptically. "Why would you want that? Why do you want to have me as a partner? What are you really planning?"
Ike was silent for a long moment, as if carefully considering his response.
Then, to my complete surprise, he smiled, not with arrogance or mockery, but with something that almost seemed... warm. As corny as that sounded in my mind.
"Because," he said simply, "I honestly prefer your true personality over the fake one."
I blinked, completely stunned by that statement. Before narrowing my eyes with anger.
"Eh?" I managed to say.
"Your true personality," Ike repeated, as if he were talking about the weather. "The one that's full of sarcasm and venom and cutting comments. That one is much more interesting than the fake, sweet version."
I stared at him, searching for signs of mockery or deception. But his expression was completely serious.
"You're lying," I finally said, though my voice sounded less certain than I wanted.
"I'm not lying," Ike responded calmly. "Look, don't misunderstand me—your fake personality is impressive. Seriously. The way you can switch so perfectly, the way you can feign positive emotions and give people exactly what they want without breaking your facade... it's genuinely talented."
He paused.
"But the real you, the one I saw that night on the deck, that's the real person. Raw, honest, unfiltered. And honestly..." He shrugged. "I prefer authenticity over manufactured perfection."
I felt something loosen in my chest—something that had been tight for so long I had almost forgotten it was there.
Because no one had ever said something like that before.
Not a single person who had seen my true self had ever said they preferred my real personality to the one I pretend to be.
But...
"I don't believe you," I said abruptly, shaking my head as if I could banish the moment of weakness. "This is just another manipulation. Another way to make me cooperate."
"Then let me prove it to you," Ike responded immediately.
"How?"
"By working together. Being honest with each other—well, as honest as we can be given the circumstances." He paused. "You have two options here, Kushida."
He raised one finger.
"Option one: You continue hating me. You continue being my 'forced subordinate,' as you probably think of yourself. You do what I say because you have to, and resent every second of it."
Then he raised a second finger.
"Option two: We work together. As partners. Not as friends—I don't expect that—but as... colleagues with mutual benefit. I help you, you help me, and we both come out winning."
He looked directly into my eyes.
"The decision is completely yours. I can force you to do things with the recording if necessary. But I'd prefer not to."
I processed his words carefully, my mind racing through possible angles and traps.
"And what if I choose option two?" I asked cautiously. "What exactly does 'working together' entail?"
Ike shrugged.
"Depends on the situation. But in general, it means when I need something—information, help with a plan, whatever—I'll ask you. And when you need something, you can ask me. And as I said, you can take the credit and with that you'll get more people to praise and adore you."
That sounded very tempting, to have an ally I didn't have to pretend with and also increase my reputation with Ike's plans, but...
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I use the recording," Ike said bluntly. "But only as a last resort. I prefer voluntary cooperation."
At least he's honest about it, I admitted internally.
"And the recording?" I asked. "When do you delete it?"
Ike considered this for a moment.
"When it's no longer necessary," he finally said. "When we can both trust each other enough that it's not needed."
"That's incredibly vague," I pointed out.
"I know," Ike admitted. "But it's the best I can offer right now. You just have to trust and take a gamble."
There was another moment of tense silence as I processed everything he had just said.
My mind worked through all the possible ramifications, pros and cons, risks and benefits.
Option one meant continuing as I was—hating him, resisting when I could, being generally miserable.
Option two meant... what, exactly? Pretending we were okay? Acting as if we were really partners when we both knew he had all the power in this relationship?
But...
But at least he's honest, that little voice in my head whispered again. He's not pretending this is something it's not. He's not trying to be your friend. He's just... being direct.
And that directness was... strangely refreshing.
I hated to admit it. I hated even thinking about it.
But it was true.
"How do you expect me to trust you?" I asked him angrily. "When you're the guy who's blackmailing me with a recording?"
"Fair point," Ike conceded with a smile. "But think of it this way: if my plan works, Class D gains massive points. And that benefits you as much as me. You gain private points and your reputation grows very positively."
He was right, damn it. I didn't care about class points, but I wasn't going to say no to private points, not to mention that if my reputation increases thanks to his help in this exam, they'll forget about Horikita the bitch and shower me with praise. Instead of that bitch, as it should be.
The only thing I hated was accepting that if the plan worked, it would be thanks to Ike, which just thinking about it gives me chills. And I hated Horikita as much as Ike.
"Fine," I finally said, letting out a long sigh. "I'll get you the names. And I'll cooperate with your plan—whatever it is—as long as it doesn't directly harm me."
"Fair deal," Ike nodded with satisfaction.
I stood up, ready to end this uncomfortable meeting and return to my room.
But just as I was turning toward the door, Ike spoke again.
"Kushida-chan."
I stopped, looking at him over my shoulder.
"Think about what I said," Ike said quietly. "About being genuine partners. About having someone who really knows you."
He paused.
"Because honestly... I think we could both benefit from having at least one person in our lives who sees us as we really are. No masks. No lies. Just... genuine."
I felt those words dig into somewhere deep inside me—in that lonely place I had been trying to ignore for so long.
Because he was right.
So completely, painfully, right.
When was the last time someone saw me—really saw me—and didn't run away terrified? Or feel disgust or betrayal?
When was the last time I could be myself without fearing consequences?
When was the last time I didn't feel completely, absolutely alone?
But...
"No," I finally said, my voice coming out firmer than I felt. "I'm not going to fall for this. I'm not going to let you manipulate me into thinking you actually care."
I turned to look at him directly.
"This is just business, Ike. You have something on me, so I cooperate. That's all. Don't pretend it's something more."
Ike studied me for a long moment with an inscrutable expression.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"As you wish, Kikyō-chan," he said softly with a mischievous smile, using that annoying tone with my name. "The offer is on the table. It's up to you whether you decide to take it or not."
Without another word, I turned and left the room.
As I walked back toward the stairs, my mind was racing.
Genuine partners, I repeated his words mentally. Someone who sees me as I really am.
It was tempting.
So dangerously tempting.
Because the truth—the truth I had been burying so deeply I had almost forgotten—was that I was tired.
Tired of pretending. Tired of smiling. Tired of being the perfect Kushida Kikyo everyone loved.
Tired of being alone even when surrounded by people.
The only thing that didn't make me stop were people's praises, they were my drug, despite knowing how fucking frustrating it was to have to pretend all damn day, without being able to properly vent because the walls have ears. And because of that venting I got into this situation with Ike.
I know it's stupid to think about it, and it made me angry just considering it, but if I wanted to avoid going crazy, maybe, just maybe Ike Kanji was offering something I didn't know I needed.
Someone who knew me. Really knew me. And who didn't run away, and if the bastard wants my help, at least he has to help me vent or I swear I'll break his testicles.
Leaving the bubbling anger in my chest.
I can't trust him, I reminded myself firmly as I climbed the stairs. Not after how this started. Not after the blackmail.
Although...
A small part of me, a part that had been buried for so long, whispered a different question.
But what if he's being genuine? What if he really prefers my true self?
What if finally there's someone who can handle the real Kushida Kikyō?
I shook my head violently, trying to banish those dangerous thoughts.
No, I decided firmly. I'm not going to let him manipulate me like that.
But even as I told myself that, I knew Ike's words had planted themselves in my mind.
And like seeds, they would eventually grow.
Whether I wanted them to or not.
When I finally got back to my room, I slipped silently into my bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.
Tomorrow the zodiac exam would begin.
And somehow, I had the feeling that this exam was going to change more than just class points.
Ike Kanji. I thought with a mixture of frustration, resentment, and something else I didn't want to name. What the hell are you doing to me?
But I had no answer.
Just the silence of the night and the soft sound of the waves.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice kept whispering.
What if he's being genuine?
What if you finally don't have to be alone?
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to silence that voice.
I tried using my anger to silence the voice, but it didn't disappear.
And I suspected it wouldn't anytime soon.
No matter how hard I tried.
.
.
.
By the way, did you like the chapter? If you want to support my writing and get early access to chapters of my story, you can support me at Patreon com/c/Paxkun12. You have to put it in your search bar for it to work, all together.
Any support is incredibly valuable to me and will help me a lot. It's not an obligation; all my chapters and stories will always be free to read. But your support would motivate me a lot. Of course, if you want me to update a particular story, I will do my best to do so. Everyone is welcome to enjoy it. PDT: All donations will go towards repairing my computer, as it has broken down. And sorry for any spelling mistakes that may have slipped through. As I work on a tablet, I may have missed something, but I have tried to proofread everything several times.