Chapter 16 – Shadows Behind the Smile
The day after the courtyard incident was anything but normal.
Rumors had already spread like wildfire, carried from class to class, whispered in locker rooms, scribbled in notebooks. Natsuki was at the center of it all: the delinquent who walked side by side with Mitsuri Saionji, heiress of the Saionji family and the bold new transfer girl who claimed him as her childhood friend.
By the time Natsuki entered the classroom, heads turned as though he were a spectacle. Some smirked, others sneered. A few whispered under their breath:
"Bet he's playing both of them…"
"He doesn't deserve either."
"He's dangerous—why would they even be near him?"
Natsuki kept his gaze forward, his face blank. The words slid off him on the surface, but deep down, they weighed like lead. Let them talk. Their opinions don't matter. He repeated it in his head, but it didn't make the gnawing irritation disappear.
Mitsuri Saionji sat by the window, her eyes shadowed. She hadn't spoken to him since yesterday's outburst in the courtyard. Every time she glanced at him, her chest tightened. She wanted to apologize for letting her jealousy slip out so recklessly… but pride kept her silent.
Hanako, on the other hand, was thriving. She waltzed into class like she owned the room, her energy brighter than ever. She plopped into her seat with a grin, tossing her hair back. "Good morning, Natsuki," she said cheerfully, her voice loud enough to catch the attention of half the class.
The atmosphere buzzed.
Mitsuri's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't miss the way Hanako leaned closer than necessary, or how easily she slipped into Natsuki's space.
The teacher's voice droned on, lessons weaving in and out of equations and grammar rules, but for Mitsuri, Hanako, and Natsuki, the classroom was a battlefield. Every glance, every whispered word carried meaning.
---
At lunch, Mitsuri finally cornered Natsuki by the vending machines in the quiet back corridor of the school.
"Natsuki," she began, her voice sharp, "why are you letting her do this? Everyone thinks—"
Natsuki raised a hand, cutting her off. His tone was calm, but his eyes carried steel. "What people think doesn't matter."
"But it does," Mitsuri snapped back, surprising herself with her own desperation. "You don't see it, do you? They look at you like you're nothing. They'll drag you down with rumors, with lies, with—"
"With what?" he challenged, stepping closer. "You think I care what some spoiled brats whisper about me? Let them. I'm not here to be liked, Mitsuri. I'm here because…"
He stopped himself, his words catching before they revealed too much. His jaw tightened. "Forget it."
Mitsuri Saionji stared at him, her heart pounding. She knew there was more—something deeper he wasn't saying. But before she could press further, a group of boys appeared at the end of the hallway.
They weren't from their class. Their uniforms were sloppy, their ties undone, their gazes sharp and mocking. They leaned against the wall, blocking the exit, grins curling on their lips.
"Well, well," one of them drawled. "If it isn't the infamous delinquent babysitting the princess."
Natsuki's shoulders stiffened. His instincts screamed trouble.
"Word on the street is," another continued, "your old pals aren't too happy with you. Something about debts, broken promises… you know how it is." His grin widened. "Guess you'll find out soon enough."
Mitsuri's eyes widened. Old pals?
Natsuki stepped forward, his glare sharp. "What do you want?"
The boys chuckled. "Nothing—for now. Just thought you should know. People don't forget so easily. And when the time's right…" His voice dropped to a whisper meant to cut deep. "…you'll regret crossing them."
With that, the group sauntered off, laughter echoing down the hall.
Mitsuri turned to Natsuki immediately. "Who were they talking about? What did they mean?"
Natsuki didn't answer. He clenched his fists, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He'd tried to keep Mitsuri's world safe from his own—but the past was bleeding into the present, faster than he could stop it.
---
That evening, in a dimly lit room across town, the gang gathered.
Men sat around a scarred wooden table, cigarettes glowing like fireflies in the haze of smoke. A map of the school grounds lay in the center, covered with scribbled notes.
One of the lieutenants tapped the paper with a sharp fingernail. "The kid's gotten too comfortable. Walking around like he's untouchable, hiding behind that rich girl. We can't let him keep thinking he's free."
Another man sneered. "You want him back in line? Then let's break him where it hurts. Hit him at school. In front of everyone."
The leader leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but deadly. "No. Not yet. If we move too soon, he'll fight back. He's not the same brat he used to be." His gaze darkened. "But everyone has a weakness. Find his. Watch him. Wait. When the time comes…"
He smirked, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "…we'll make him wish he never walked away."
---
Back at his small apartment, Natsuki sat alone, staring at the photograph on his nightstand. His mother's smile beamed back at him, fragile and tired but filled with warmth.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. I don't have time for their games. I just need the money. I just need to protect her.
But deep down, he knew it wasn't just about his mother anymore. Mitsuri Saionji's safety, Hanako's stubborn loyalty—they were all tangled in this web now. And the gangs weren't going to stay quiet forever.
The storm was coming. And Natsuki had no choice but to stand in its path.
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