~Even now, I'm no longer certain which is truth… and which is revenge disguised as justice.~
1. Three Years That Never Left
Three years.
Long enough to change a face.
Never long enough to kill a memory.
I stand before a cracked mirror inside my mind.
The figure staring back is no longer the boy who was once broken—
but someone who learned how to live among the shards.
Even I almost stopped believing in that past,
because I tried to forget it—
bury it so deep
that now it feels difficult to reach again.
Then Misaki came.
Not to heal—
but to reopen the old stitches
so the wound could breathe.
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2. The World's Sin
The changes in my life never shook Hiroshi's conviction.
He kept walking his own path—
and when I finally understood that truth,
all that remained was bitter regret.
Regret that I had, without realizing it,
planted a demon's seed inside a boy—
and let it grow,
harden,
expand,
until its shell could no longer be cracked by ordinary words.
But regret kept inside the chest
has no meaning.
It must be opened.
Spoken.
Shouted directly at him—
not as justification,
but as confession.
Perhaps then,
someone who has gone astray
might still turn back.
Truth is never absolute.
But at least by forcing him to walk through it,
I hoped Hiroshi would see his own wrongdoing.
Especially now—
when he has fallen,
when the world no longer offers him stable ground—
perhaps his heart will be more open
to accept reality, however bitter.
Meeting me again
may tear open old wounds.
But I no longer care about that risk.
Because in the end,
we have both become monsters.
The only difference:
he wants more—
trapped in the sin of greed.
While I—
only want to reclaim
what should have been mine—
trapped in the sin of hypocrisy.
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3. The Ace Card
We used Hiroshi's despair as our foothold.
We sent one short message.
Cold.
Compact.
Without mercy.
Come alone. Or we tear your world apart in front of everyone.
We used his fear as a leash
and summoned him to an abandoned building near the school—
a place as silent
as the reputation about to collapse.
His choice was simple:
come,
or watch the most sensitive recordings of his life
be released to the public.
Recordings that revealed the side of him
he had hidden so tightly—
uncontrolled dependency,
reckless urges,
a collapse of boundaries.
It was not merely about the body—
but about dignity.
Anyone who saw them
would never again call him respectable.
That was our ace card—
cruel,
but real.
We obtained everything through Hitomi's precision and courage.
While Hiroshi and Sasaki were in sports class,
she returned quietly,
opened Hiroshi's laptop,
and traced the digital footprints he left unguarded.
The password had already been observed earlier—
not stolen by force,
but captured by patience.
From that moment on,
the game was no longer in Hiroshi's hands.
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4. The Abandoned Building
He came alone.
His footsteps echoed across the dusty floor like a gavel of fate.
We made him wait.
Ten minutes—
long enough to stretch into punishment.
Misaki wanted to test his patience.
To read his mental state through silence.
I expected rage.
Curses. Explosions.
Instead—he was calm.
Too calm.
Hands in his pockets.
Eyes scanning the room.
Not relaxed—
but emptied.
When we finally revealed ourselves,
the silence snapped.
"Satoshi…" he said.
My name fell from his mouth
like something rotten finally noticed.
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5. The Boundary Wall
Every human relationship contains an unwritten awareness
of how far one may step
into another's private space.
From there are born acceptance and rejection.
A personal boundary is invisible—
but real.
A wall without bricks
that still demands responsibility.
Excessive desire becomes violation
when someone forces entry
where they were never welcomed.
Love and hatred
can grow in the same space—
under different permissions.
And I realized something:
Misaki.
Hiroshi.
And I—
we had all cut through someone's boundary by force.
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6. Hiroshi and Misaki
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Before I could answer,
he laughed softly.
"So it's your doing."
No anger.
Only mockery.
He tried to corner me with words
even while standing at a disadvantage.
Misaki stopped me from responding.
His insults toward her turned filthy, degrading, explicit.
I won't repeat them here—
only this:
They were meant to provoke.
To drag us down to his level.
Misaki did not react.
Her calm
was sharper than retaliation.
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7. The Kiss That Became a Blade
Then Misaki turned to me—
and kissed me.
Sudden.
Deliberate.
In front of him.
Soft—
but unmistakably intentional.
Seven seconds.
Not romance.
A declaration of war.
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8. Two Forms of Madness
She called him rotten without raising her voice.
Declared his downfall like a verdict.
I realized then—
this was no longer a clash of right and wrong,
but of two insanities colliding.
And I was no longer just watching.
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9. Confession and Rupture
I showed him the evidence.
Not to destroy him—
but to demand an apology.
He answered with rage.
Blamed me for his ruined life.
Denied my suffering.
Erased my family's humiliation with his words.
I stopped him.
My anger was no longer loud—
only exhausted.
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10. The Devil's Admission
He admitted everything.
The setup.
The trap.
The destruction.
Planned.
Enjoyed.
Remembered fondly.
Something inside my chest opened—
not a wound,
but a door.
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11. The First Punch
I hit him.
Not as a victim.
As someone who chose to strike back.
He bled—
and laughed.
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12. A Fight Without Heroes
We fought like animals.
Breath against breath.
Pain against hatred.
My body reached its limit.
My right hand burned with tearing pain.
I wanted to run.
But if I ran,
everything would collapse again.
Near my fall—
a glass bottle on the floor.
For the first time,
the distance between hurting
and killing
felt very short.
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13. Misaki's Voice
"Satoshi…"
I heard her—
or thought I did.
Not comfort.
A command.
Your sacrifice will open the future.
It sounded like a curse disguised as prayer.
I accepted it.
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14. The Birth of Choice
I was fully aware.
This was no longer justice.
Only destruction racing destruction.
My hand moved—
not by reflex,
but by decision.
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15. Closing — Final Step
At that point I understood:
I had gone too far
to become a good person again.
Only one final step remained.
Not to save myself—
but to make sure
he sinks with me.