The morning after the rooftop confrontation, the school hallways buzzed with restless energy. Whispers chased Yui from the moment she stepped past the gates.
"They said she slapped Haruto Kuroya."
"Is she insane? Who even dares to do that?"
"She must be stringing both brothers along. First Haruto kisses her, and now Riku walks with her? Shameless."
Every sentence was a dagger. Girls snickered behind their palms, boys smirked with mockery. Some even muttered words loud enough for her to hear: cheap, manipulative, pretending to be innocent.
Yet, beneath the ridicule, there was fear. The mention of Haruto's name hushed some voices. Everyone knew his temper, his dominance in the school. To touch Yui now meant courting disaster. She was untouchable… but not in a way that gave her protection. It was more like being a lamb, locked in a cage, surrounded by wolves who wanted to see her break.
Yui clenched her books tighter to her chest, eyes lowered, and walked faster. The whispers followed her like shadows.
By the time the final bell rang, she wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air. She barely made it out the school gates when a voice stopped her.
"Yui."
Her breath caught—Riku.
He stood a few feet away, his uniform neat despite the fight from yesterday. The faint split on his lip was still visible, and guilt clawed at her chest.
"I'll walk you home," he said simply, his tone calm, gentle, as though he already knew she would refuse but was ready to insist anyway.
Yui hesitated. She didn't want to bring more trouble to him. But when her eyes met his steady, kind gaze, she couldn't form the words to push him away.
"…Alright," she whispered.
The walk was quiet, her head lowered most of the way. She could feel stares following them—classmates who lingered near the gates, whispering that the brothers' rivalry was because of her.
When they reached her street, Riku stopped suddenly. "Yui."
She turned, clutching her books closer.
His lips curved faintly. "You should at least let me fix this." He tapped the cut on his mouth.
Her chest tightened. "I… I don't have medicine—"
"Then let me in," he said softly, "and I'll take what you have."
Yui froze. She had never invited anyone inside. Not since her parents' death. But the look in his eyes wasn't demanding. It was patient. Quiet. Safe.
Minutes later, they were in her small living room. She pulled out a first-aid kit with trembling hands, trying to calm herself. Riku sat patiently on the couch, watching her with a quiet intensity.
As she dabbed antiseptic on his lip, her hand shook. "I'm… sorry," she whispered.
"For what?"
"Because of me, you…" She couldn't finish.
Riku caught her wrist gently, steadying her trembling. "Don't apologize for what he does. None of this is your fault."
Her chest ached at his words. For the first time in so long, someone wasn't blaming her.
That night, miles away in the Kuroya mansion, Haruto sat in his room with the lights dimmed. The slap replayed in his head like a fever dream. Her hand against his cheek, her eyes filled with tears and fire.
He should have been furious. He should have wanted to destroy her.
Instead, his lips curled into a twisted smile.
"She fought back," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. His pulse quickened. "My little rabbit… finally bit back."
Excitement, not rage, surged through him. It wasn't enough to own her if she only cried. He wanted her to resist, to break slowly.
Grabbing his phone, Haruto dialed a number. "Get the car ready. We're going to the club tonight."
The club was alive with pounding bass and swirling lights. Girls flocked to him the moment he stepped in, drawn by his sharp looks and dangerous aura. Haruto let them circle him, lips curved in a predator's smirk.
One girl in particular caught his eye—a bold one who thought she was hunting him. She leaned in, smiling slyly, whispering things in his ear. Haruto tilted his head, letting her believe she was the one making a move. But every glance, every touch, was his orchestration.
Hours later, when they stumbled into a back room together, she leaned against him breathlessly, tracing his jaw. "You keep looking at your phone," she teased. "Found someone more interesting than me?"
For a second, his mask slipped. On his screen, dimly lit, was Yui's childhood photo—one he had found by chance. Her innocent smile, her eyes filled with light that the present Yui had lost.
"Maybe," he murmured. His smirk returned, but the answer left her unsettled.
After midnight, his car slowed to a stop outside Yui's apartment. He turned the engine off, leaning back in his seat, eyes fixed on a single balcony where a light flickered on.
And there she was.
Yui stepped out quietly, the night breeze tugging at her hair. She leaned over the railing, her face pale under the dim glow. Haruto's grip on the steering wheel tightened.
Mine.
Then he noticed something—her fingers clutched a small charm. Not hers. His brother's.
A shadow crossed his face. He started the car abruptly, tires screeching softly against the pavement. Yui flinched, looking down in confusion as the black car disappeared down the street.
Minutes later, Haruto stormed into the mansion, fury cloaked in a smile. He kicked open Riku's door, grabbed a glass of water, and splashed it across his sleeping brother's face.
Riku jolted awake, blinking sharply. "Haruto—"
"Stay. Away. From her." Haruto's voice was low, dangerous.
Riku wiped the water calmly, unfazed. "You think you can decide for her?"
Haruto smirked, leaning closer. "You're weak. You can't protect anyone. She'll end up broken in your hands."
The tension was a taut string, ready to snap. Riku's fist clenched, but he forced himself still.
Until Haruto turned to leave.
Riku's voice cut sharp through the air. "Enough." His fist connected with Haruto's jaw, snapping his head to the side.
Haruto staggered but only laughed, a dark, low sound. He wiped the blood from his lip and smiled.
"You really want to play hero?" Haruto whispered. "Then stop me, if you don't want the truth to come out."
Riku froze.
Haruto leaned closer, his grin twisted. "You wouldn't want Yui to know who I really am."
The room fell silent, tension coiling like a storm ready to break.