Yuki sat on her bed, still wearing the same heels she'd worn for dinner. The straps dug into her ankles, but she didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on her phone screen — the dozens of photos she'd secretly taken of Haruto glowed under the dim yellow light.
Each image showed a different side of him: the charming smile he used on waitresses, the careless smirk during business dinners, the rare soft look that only came when he wasn't aware someone was watching.
She pinched the screen and zoomed in on one photo — Haruto and Yui in the background of a school event, standing just a few feet apart. Her jaw tightened.
"You ruined everything," she whispered."He used to look at me."
Her voice trembled, not from sadness, but rage.
The phone buzzed with a new message from one of her hired men. She typed quickly:
"Tomorrow. She walks home alone at five. Make her regret crossing me."
She pressed send and leaned back, a cruel satisfaction twisting her lips. If Haruto refused to see her, he would see what happened to the girl who stole his attention.
The next morning at school, whispers flew faster than the morning wind.
"Did you see the photos?"
"Haruto and Yuki went out again. Guess she's finally back in his life."
"Poor Yui — she thought she was special."
Yui walked past the groups of girls, their mocking voices slicing through her fragile calm. Her stomach churned, but she kept walking, holding her bag tightly to her chest.
Haruto hadn't come to class that day. The empty seat beside the window felt heavier than usual — as if even his absence carried weight.
She tried to focus on her textbook, but her mind wouldn't stop replaying the images of him — his soft smile at the amusement park, the quiet way he'd said "I wanted to see you." That Haruto felt different from the one everyone feared.
But maybe… it was all a lie.
After school, Yui stayed late to help the librarian close up. When she finally stepped outside, the sky was painted in streaks of orange and gray. She tugged her jacket closer — the wind had picked up.
Her apartment wasn't far. Usually, she liked walking the quiet road by the river. But today, something felt off.
Her phone buzzed message. Just a low vibration — like a false alarm.
She glanced behind her. Empty.
"Don't be paranoid, Yui," she murmured under her breath. But when she turned the next corner, she saw them — three silhouettes at the edge of the streetlight.
They weren't students. Their posture, their clothes — rough, older, unfamiliar.
"Hey," one called, his voice lazy, mocking. "Aren't you the girl with Kuroya Haruto?"
Yui froze. Her pulse spiked instantly. She shook her head, taking a step back. "You've got the wrong person."
But they were already walking toward her.
Another voice — lower, amused — said, "C'mon, we just wanna talk. What's a pretty schoolgirl doing out here alone?"
Her feet moved before she could think. She ran.
The sound of their footsteps followed — fast, heavy, closing in.
Her bag slipped off her shoulder as she turned sharply down an alley, her breath ragged. The echo of laughter followed her, bouncing off the walls.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. She could hear them — closer now, one of them saying, "Don't make this hard, sweetheart—"
A hand grabbed her wrist—
And then there was another sound: a sharp crack.
The hand let go.
She turned around, gasping — and saw Riku standing there.
His knuckles were red, his eyes cold with fury she'd never seen before. "Didn't your mothers teach you not to corner a girl?" he said, his voice steady and lethal.
The men cursed, one lunging forward. Riku moved faster — one step, one punch, and the man hit the ground hard. The others hesitated, then ran when they saw Riku's glare.
Yui stood frozen, chest heaving, staring at him as the last of their footsteps disappeared.
Riku turned to her. His expression softened instantly. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, still trembling. But as soon as she tried to speak, her voice broke — "I—I didn't—I didn't do anything—"
He stepped closer, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. "I know. You don't have to explain."
Her knees almost gave out, but he caught her just before she fell. For a moment, all she could hear was her heartbeat, the wind, and the quiet steadiness of Riku's breathing.
They walked the rest of the way together.
Yui clutched his jacket around her shoulders — it was warm, smelling faintly of clean soap and something familiar, like rain. Every step felt slower, her body still shaken from adrenaline.
"Riku…" she finally said, her voice small. "Why were you there?"
He smiled faintly. "You're not the easiest person to ignore, you know that?"
She blinked, confused.
He looked ahead, his expression unreadable. "I saw some unfamiliar guys tailing you after school. Didn't feel right. So I followed."
The quiet between them stretched.
Yui looked down at the pavement. "Thank you."
"You don't have to," he replied softly. "Just… try not to walk home alone for a while."
She nodded, tightening her grip on his jacket.
For the first time in weeks, she felt safe.
Meanwhile, at a distance — hidden behind a parked car — Yuki watched them.
Her phone camera recorded every step, every moment of Riku gently walking beside Yui.
She lowered the phone slowly, her lips curving into a bitter smile.
"So this is how it is now," she whispered. "If she wants both brothers' attention… I'll make sure she loses everything."
She slipped her phone into her purse and walked into the night, her heels clicking softly against the pavement — each step a promise.