The darkness was suffocating.
Haruto thrashed in the cold, black water, his lungs burning as he sank deeper and deeper into the lake. He tried to scream, but his mouth only filled with water. His small arms flailed wildly, reaching for something—anything.
And then—fingers.
A hand, soft but firm, clutched his wrist. A girl's blurred figure leaned over the edge, her hair glowing faintly under sunlight. Her voice—though muffled and unclear—echoed through the water.
"Don't let go."
He jolted awake, gasping, his chest heaving as if he were still drowning. His sheets were damp with sweat, and his throat ached. Haruto pressed a hand to his face, his breaths shallow.
That dream again. That memory.
He hadn't thought about it in years, yet now it haunted him more than ever.
Across town, Yui also startled awake, her heart pounding. The images of yesterday replayed on an endless loop—the heat of Haruto's lips crushing against hers, the shock of his claim, the slap she had dared to give him in front of everyone.
Her trembling hands clutched the blanket.Why can't I escape him?
By morning, school was already buzzing.
"Did you hear? Haruto was seen with that idol last night.""Yeah, of course he'd go for someone like her. Not that pathetic girl.""Yui? Please. He's just playing with her. Probably bored already."
Yui walked silently past the whispers, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. Each word was like a knife twisting into her chest.
As she opened her locker, a folded piece of paper fluttered out. Her fingers hesitated before unfolding it.
He doesn't care for you. You're just practice.
Her throat closed up. She crushed the note in her fist, shoving it deep into her bag as if burying the words could bury the pain.
By afternoon, Yui escaped to the library—the only place where silence could hide her from the world. She had promised the librarian she would help organize the new arrivals, so she stacked books onto the cart and began placing them onto the shelves.
Halfway through, she froze.
At the far table, near the window, sat Haruto.
Not surrounded by his gang. Not smirking. Not taunting anyone.
Just… reading.
The light from the window softened his sharp features. His eyes scanned the page calmly, his expression unreadable, almost peaceful. For a moment, he looked like someone else entirely—not the monster who tormented her.
Yui's breath caught. She stared longer than she should have.
And then his gaze lifted.
Their eyes met.
The sharpness returned instantly, his stare piercing through her like a blade. He didn't move, didn't smirk—just looked at her, cold and still.
Yui's body tensed. She quickly lowered her head, fumbling with the books, but her hands shook.
From the corner of her vision, she saw him close the book, slide it onto the table, and lean back in his chair. His eyes never left her.
But he said nothing.
The silence was worse than his words.
A new rumor spread like wildfire.
"Guess Haruto lost interest already.""He's back to playing around with Yuki. Poor Yui, huh?"
Yui kept walking, trying to block it all out, but the sting was unbearable. Her steps quickened, her throat tightening.
At the washroom, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping to steady her shaking body. But the moment she stepped out, Yuki stood waiting.
Without hesitation, Yuki tipped a bottle, splashing water all over Yui's uniform.
"Oops," Yuki sneered. "Guess you'll need to dry off. Oh wait, doesn't Haruto like his toys broken and soaked?"
The laughter that followed was cruel and sharp.
Yui's hands trembled as she tried to wipe herself with tissues, but it was useless—her blouse clung to her skin.
She didn't notice the footsteps behind her until she bumped straight into a solid chest.
Her eyes shot up.
Haruto.
He glanced down, his eyes narrowing at her soaked clothes. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he grabbed her wrist without a word and pulled her along the hallway.
"W-Wait—!" she stammered, stumbling as his grip tightened.
He shoved open the door to an empty classroom and dragged her inside, shutting it behind them with a sharp slam.
The silence stretched unbearably before Haruto finally spoke.
"You are so pathetic."
His voice was low, sharp, every word dripping with disdain.
Yui flinched but forced herself to meet his gaze. "You're the one behind this, aren't you? You're the reason they—"
Haruto's laugh cut her off. Cruel. Mocking.
He stepped closer, lowering his head so his breath ghosted against her ear.
"If you want," he whispered, "I can protect you."
Her eyes widened.
"But for that… you'll have to sell yourself to me."
The words dripped like poison, his tone smooth yet dangerous.
Yui's breath hitched. Anger sparked in her chest, drowning out her fear. Her hand rose instinctively, ready to slap him again.
But Haruto's reflexes were quicker. He caught her wrist mid-air, his fingers tightening painfully.
His smirk widened as he yanked her hand down. "Boring," he muttered, his tone filled with contempt. "Show your little fire to someone else. Not me."
And then, as suddenly as he had dragged her in, he turned his back and walked away—leaving her trembling, her heart racing violently in the suffocating silence.
Yui's knees weakened. Her palm still stung where he had held her too tightly, but the deeper wound was his words.
Was he serious? Would he actually protect her… if she surrendered herself to him?
Her chest twisted painfully.
Because she wasn't sure which was worse—being destroyed by him, or depending on him to survive.