We arrived at my place. Without delay, I brought out the box I'd bought yesterday. Today, I planned to start teasing her asshole. We'd wasted time with pointless chatter at the restaurant, but now I was focused.
Sakura, on the other hand, didn't seem eager to play. Was she just shy? Her eyes wandered around my apartment. Hm… her face wasn't flushed. Had she gotten used to it? It felt like she was searching for something to talk about.
"Um… Makoto. How about we play your games? I want to see you play your computer games. You do play those popular gacha games, right?" Sakura said.
"…No. Those kinds of games are best played alone," I replied. I knew girls often mocked otakus for playing them—calling them gooner games or worse. There was no way I'd play something like that in front of her. "Do you even play those games, Sakura?"
"…I see. Well, I'm kind of interested. I mean, they're popular, right?" Sakura turned her head.
"Do you even have a computer?" I eyed her suspiciously. She was not like Nijima. She wasn't supposed to participate against any bullying. Sakura was a popular girl. Maybe I was prejudiced, but didn't girls like her usually prefer shopping or going out—playing on the beach or something?
"Well, I have notebooks."
"…"
"…"
An awkward silence followed. I wanted to maintain a good relationship with her. She was vital to my power—my strength only increased by doing things with her. It wasn't like I could sleep with a prostitute and gain Essence Shards. Should I relent and play a game like she wanted? But if I gave in too easily, she might think I was a pushover, and that would interfere with the training.
"Well… I guess I can't really get into gaming unless I buy a new gaming laptop, huh."
"Yeah. And you need to study hard, right? Are you sure you'd even have time to play? Being a doctor is hard, right?" I said.
"Hm… if you became a successful adventurer, couldn't I just become your housewife? Then I wouldn't need to become a doctor," Sakura said, hugging me from behind.
Her words reawakened something deep within me—old trauma. Those words. They'd once been spoken by the person I loved most.
My mother.
Dear, I'll always be by your side. I love you.
She used to say that to my father all the time. I only understood later that she'd been in it for the money. When my father was accused of malpractice and fired, it didn't even take a month before she left him for greener pastures.
In the end, my father committed the biggest scam of his life. He died in an accident—but I knew it wasn't an accident. He'd left me a letter, asking for forgiveness. I was still young then, so I did as I was told. I kept silent, and the lawyer my father trusted handled everything, including the insurance and inheritance.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" I glared at Sakura. My mind went blank.
"Well, I mean… we've already done quite a bit. So… um… I don't mind doing it with you. Making it official," Sakura said.
Her sweet words felt like vomit.
"Official? So you're planning to leech off me!? Just like my mother?" I raised my voice without meaning to.
"Huh—your mom? Um… no," Sakura recoiled, her eyes wide.
"So what does that mean, huh? What do you mean you don't mind doing it with me? You plan on leeching off me, lazing around all day?" I shouted. All the lewd thoughts and games I'd planned for today evaporated in anger.
"N-no… that's not what I meant… I'm sorry," Sakura said, tears forming. She stepped back, her face clouded with fear.
Why did she look like that?
I found the reason when my gaze hovered at the mirror. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I saw my fist clenched tight. I was abut to hit her.
"…I—no. Never mind. Sorry. It wasn't your fault," I said. I turned toward the box of toys we'd planned to use today. But with the atmosphere like this, it wouldn't be prudent to suggest playing now. "Um… I don't really have anything prepared, but… do you want some cookies?"
"What happened? You weren't supposed to be like this… Makoto, now that you mention it, I've never seen your mother. I knew your father died five years ago… ah. You don't need to tell me if it bothers you," Sakura said. She took some distance and sat down on the couch, deliberately giving me space.
Did she not know about my mom? Oh, right—we'd been estranged for more than ten years now. It was understandable that she didn't know.
"Well, my father is a doctor… um… was a doctor," I began, sitting across from her. I took a deep breath. The words came out harder than I expected, as if they were stuck in my throat like fish bones.
"Yes. He passed away in a car accident five years ago, right? I heard about it from the teachers," Sakura said, nodding.
"Well… the truth is, he didn't actually die in a car accident. It was a suicide."
"Huh?" Sakura said. I turned away from her. "…Why?"
"He was accused of malpractice. Even though he was acquitted of the criminal charges, the hospital still fired him," I said.
"Couldn't another hospital have hired him? There are at least three hospitals in this city."
"…The mass media demonized him. They said it was his fault that the child he treated died. I don't know whose fault it really was, but it definitely wasn't my father," I said.
No—the truth was, I knew exactly who was at fault. It was the hospital. But accusing the hospital would have dragged his coworkers down and possibly bankrupted it. So my father never sued back to clear his name. That's why, without culprit, the stigma never left him.
"In the end, after about a year of trials, he was let go. By then, no other hospital would accept him."
"…I see. I'm sorry for your loss. Um… what about your mother?"
"She left. Just a month after my father was accused. She abandoned him at his lowest point. I… I've hated her ever since." There was no curse strong enough for her behavior. All I could say was that I hated her.
It would be nice if she died in a ditch or was thrown away by her new rich husband—a fitting karma. But no. Her social media showed her traveling to Paris a month ago with her new daughter. Life wasn't fair. She was living her best life while leaving her former husband and son to rot. I hated her.
Hah… I wondered why I even stalked her social media account. She'd never contacted me since then. It was as if she'd never had a son at all.
"I see… that's why you never had a girlfriend, huh."
"Anyway, that's my story. Let's clean up. I'm not in the mood to play today."
"Makoto," Sakura said.
"Yes?"
"Um… sorry. For everything. It's my fault. I wasn't supposed to say that."
"It's fine. You're different from my mother. You're not like her."
Yes. Sakura wasn't like that. Unlike my mother—who pretended kindness on the surface but was a leech underneath—Sakura was genuinely kind, albeit a little haughty. Our relationship hadn't even begun the way my parents' had. My parents met when my father was already a successful doctor. Sakura knew I wasn't a strong adventurer, and unlike Nijima, she didn't leave me.
Anyway, as long as I kept my guard up and didn't sign any commitments with her, it should be fine. That was the rule when we engaged in those plays. Don't get attached. This was just play.
"…I see. Well… I'm leaving now. See you tomorrow, Makoto. If you want to play, maybe we could someday." Sakura picked up her bag and left. As she opened the door, I saw something glimmer at the corner of her eyes.
"Was that… tears? What am I doing with my life?" I sighed.
——————————
Sakura POV
I left Makoto's home in tears. I hadn't known he carried such a history with his mother—and he was completely right. I was just a materialistic whore. I'd sworn I wouldn't rely on him. I didn't want him to see me as a slut who clung to him for money.
Maybe it was because I was stressed. I was about to take out a loan I didn't think I could ever repay unless I became a successful doctor, and that pressure made me say it. I'd promised myself I wouldn't rely on him for my problems. I shouldn't have—but somehow, I'd said those hateful words, just like his mother. I'd said it didn't matter whether I became a doctor or not if I became his wife.
I was trying to manipulate him. I even offered him my virginity. Sakura, you're such a whore. I couldn't believe I'd said something like that. Did I have no shame at all?
Did I really love him? Was I any different from his mother? I was only seeking him out of fear for my future. Why did I say those things? Sakura, you're just like Nijima after all. Just a whore. You never sought true love from Makoto.
Later that night, as I agonized over my future, I received a message from Makoto.
"Sorry about today. Thank you for listening. I feel much better now. If you really don't want to become a doctor, that's fine. You're better off becoming my sex slave anyway. It's your fetish, right? Living under me? Becoming my slave? Well, sorry for the awkward situation today."
Seeing such a crazy message—bordering on sexual harassment—I smiled instead. I typed my reply.
"Hmph! If you really want me to become your sex slave, you'd better work hard to become a successful adventurer. If you mess up in a dungeon and become disabled, then you'll be the one who becomes my slave, understand?"
With that, I closed my phone and went to sleep.
I wondered whether this feeling was real. I hoped it was.