The world hadn't ended.
Not yet.
That was the first thought Haruki had the next morning after the threatening messages. His body was still whole. The sun had still risen. But something inside him had shifted, stiffened. Hardened.
He hadn't slept.
Neither had Rina.
After a night of whispered strategy and uneasy silences, they had decided not to go to the police yet. There wasn't enough proof. No name, no voice, just vague threats and a photo dredged from a dark memory. They needed more.
But for Haruki, the damage wasn't just in the threat, it was in the truth of it.
That image of himself, bloody, broken, forgotten in a school stall, wasn't just a snapshot.
It was a mirror.
Rina was waiting for him again that morning, sitting on the edge of the same riverbank bench they had once shared like strangers. Now, there was something stronger between them. Not romance, not yet, but trust.
He joined her wordlessly. The silence was heavier today.
"Still no new messages?" she asked, not looking at him.
He shook his head. "Nothing since last night."
"Then maybe it was just to scare you."
Haruki laughed quietly. "It worked."
Rina turned toward him. "What they want is fear. What they don't want is for you to fight back."
"And if they post it?" he asked. "If the photo gets out? People will think I'm weak. That I don't deserve the life I have now."
"Let them," Rina said firmly. "Let them see the scars. The fact you have them means you've healed past them. You're stronger now."
Haruki wanted to believe her.
But deep down, a voice whispered:
Are you really? Or are you just a kid with money and a lucky break, still terrified of ghosts in a school hallway?
Later that day, he visited the Kindling workspace they'd rented, a small, shared office in Shibuya with peeling walls and half-functioning lights. But it was theirs. Rina had already taped up schedules, pinned sticky notes to corkboards, and scribbled names of local schools and shelters they planned to contact.
Haruki stared at it all and asked himself: Is this worth fighting for?
Then, in the quiet hum of the room, his answer came:
Yes.
That evening, Haruki did something he'd never done before.
He made a public post.
Not a tweet. Not a throwaway message. A statement, shared on the Kindling site and cross-posted to every account he had, personal and professional.
"I haven't always been the person you see today,In high school, I was bullied, brutally, relentlessly. I've been bloodied, broken, ignored. There were days I didn't want to live,That pain shaped me,But it didn't end me,I want to use the fortune I was given, both the lottery and the kindness that started it, to help others who feel like I once did,If you think my scars make me unworthy, then maybe you were never listening in the first place,But if you've ever felt powerless, invisible, like no one would care if you vanished,This is for you,You're not alone."
—Haruki Takeda
He clicked Post with shaking fingers.
Rina stood behind him, quietly supportive.
"That's brave," she whispered.
"No," he said, exhaling, "It's necessary."
The reactions exploded faster than he expected.
Within an hour, there were hundreds of comments. By morning, thousands.
Some were kind.
"Thank you for speaking up. I wish someone had said this to me when I was 15.""You just gave me the strength to keep going today.""Your honesty is worth more than the money ever was."
Others were cruel.
"Cry harder, lottery boy.""Typical victim playing hero. Try working for once.""You got lucky and now you want to act noble? Please."
But Haruki read them all.
Every single one.
He didn't flinch this time. Not even at the venom. Because for every insult, ten more voices rose to say, me too.
And in the torrent of support came something unexpected.
[Aya]:I saw your post,I'm proud of you. You've come so far,Don't let them win again.
His throat tightened.
Aya had always been there for him, even back when he didn't think anyone could be.
He replied with simple words:
[Haruki]:Thank you. Want to meet soon?
But not everything was quiet.
The next message from the blackmailer came at 3 a.m., and this time, it was angrier.
"Nice speech. Think a sob story will save you? Next time, I won't just send photos. Maybe I'll show people who you really hurt. What happened to your bully after that day? You think it ended with you?"
Haruki's blood ran cold again.
What… did that mean?
The next day, Haruki showed Rina the message. She frowned, brow furrowed.
"That last line," she said. "He's not threatening you. He's implying you did something to them."
Haruki shook his head, heart racing. "No. I never fought back. I never even yelled at them."
But the doubt was there now. Infecting.
He searched online. Found nothing.
Then he did something reckless.
He sent a message to Ryo, one of his former tormentors. Still on social media. Still smug in his filtered photos and gym selfies.
[Haruki]:Do you know who's sending me threats?
Seen.
No reply.
Then finally:
[Ryo]:Someone's messing with you? Maybe you made too many enemies.Not everyone's happy the nerd got rich.
Haruki nearly threw his phone.
Then he noticed something.
Ryo had liked his public post.
That was new.
Later that week, Haruki received an envelope at the Kindling office. No return address.
Inside: A copy of the same bathroom photo. On the back, scrawled in black marker:
"What will you do when the next photo's not of you?"
Rina touched the paper with gloved fingers. "He's escalating. This isn't just someone angry about money. This is obsession."
"I think," Haruki said slowly, "it might be someone who was like me."
She looked at him.
"Someone who was bullied too," he explained. "And never got out. Someone who didn't win the lottery."
"Then they don't want to expose you," Rina murmured. "They want to be you. Or destroy the version of you they can't be."
Haruki nodded.
"It's not about guilt or weakness anymore. It's about envy."
He stood in the center of the Kindling office, staring at the messy whiteboard.
He had been bullied.
He had survived.
He had gotten lucky.
But he wasn't ashamed of any of it anymore.
"Let them come," he said aloud. "I'm done running."
Rina turned to him with a smile. "Then we finish this. We find out who's behind it, and we show the world you're not afraid anymore."
Haruki looked out the window, the Tokyo skyline glowing like something possible.
He wasn't who he used to be.
And for the first time, he didn't want to be anyone else.