Chapter 63 Reika’s Past (2)
Chapter 63 Reika’s Past (2)
"Do you understand, or do you wanna die, buddy?" Iryoku said menacingly, gripping a trembling student by the collar in the shadowy corner of the schoolyard.
“What are you doing? Stop that—don’t bully him!” Reika exclaimed, her voice firm, trying to summon the same courage she'd felt when she’d defended Yumi.
Iryoku turned toward her with a wide grin, eyes glinting. He released the student without a care, and the boy sprinted away, not daring to look back.
Slowly, deliberately, Iryoku walked toward Reika until his face hovered inches from hers. His breath smelled faintly of mint and trouble.
“And what,” he said in a low, mocking voice, “are you gonna do about it?”
A flicker of fear stirred in Reika’s chest—but she didn’t move. “You should stop,” she said, voice wavering but steady. “You’re an adult now. School isn’t a place for violence—we’re supposed to behave.”
He scoffed and cut her off with a dry laugh. “Behave? Do you even know how adults really are?” He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Don’t be naive. Most adults do worse than anything you’ll see in school.”
Her mind flashed to how her side of the family had been manipulated, suppressed, sidelined by the main branch. Her fists clenched—but she stood her ground.
“That doesn’t excuse you acting like a caveman. Grow up. If you don’t stop, I’ll report you to the principal.”
Iryoku threw his head back in laughter.
"Ha, ha, ha!" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Heh… you think I care about suspension? And here I thought you were the smart, perfect little princess.”
His eyes slid down her body, shamelessly ogling her.
“Hot, but clueless.”
Reika’s temper flared. Her voice cracked like a whip. “If you don’t care, then maybe you’ll care when I call my father. You really want my family’s influence turned against you?”
That made Iryoku grin even wider. “Really? You went from wannabe hero to the classic spoiled rich girl in seconds. ‘You don’t know who my family is,’ blah, blah, blah.” He mimicked Reika in a high-pitched, poor imitation of her voice. “Seems like you can’t do anything by yourself.”
Reika didn’t know how to respond—no clever comeback, no sharp retort came to mind.
Still chuckling, Iryoku turned and walked away, hands stuffed in his pockets, leaving her frozen—angry, humiliated… and shaken.
Later, on her way home, she slid into the back seat of a luxurious car. Her chauffeur bowed with quiet formality.
“Thank you for your hard work today, young miss.”
She nodded silently and sat down. As the car pulled away, she took out her phone and immediately began clearing her browsing history—erasing all traces of her secret indulgences: the web novels, the silly searches, the dream worlds she escaped to.
She’d left her physical novel in her locker, away from her father’s eyes.
She tucked the phone away and stared out the window. The school buildings passed in a blur, but her thoughts were still—quiet and heavy.
“Young miss,” the chauffeur added softly, “your father has arranged for additional after-school lessons. They’ll begin next week, from five to seven.”
“What?” she blurted—then caught herself, forcing her voice down. Her jaw tensed and her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
I already have cram school from seven to nine, she thought bitterly. Now he wants to take the rest of my time too?
She trembled—frustration bubbling under her calm surface.
Then, outside the window, she caught a glimpse of the school’s baseball field.
Two figures were out there—Yumi and Alessandra-sensei, laughing, tossing a ball back and forth under the fading afternoon light.
She remembered Yumi telling her about their after-school sports sessions. A small, smile crept onto Reika’s face.
And then, a thought bloomed in her mind:
Maybe… I can do something, too.
That night, just before bed, Reika stood outside her father’s study. Her hand hovered near the door, trembling slightly.
Iryoku’s voice echoed in her head:
“Seems like you can’t do anything by yourself.”
Her jaw tightened.
She took a breath—and knocked.
“…Father, can I talk to you?”
The next morning, Reika walked to class with a small, satisfied smile on her face.
She had done it.
“I want to stay after school for special training with one of my teachers,” she had told him the night before, her voice steady, confident—powerful.
And for once, her father had agreed.
It was a small victory, but it was hers. Her decision. Her will.
Later that day, Reika joined Yumi and Alessandra-sensei for their training session.
Her life eased, if only a little. The pressure at home remained, the expectations still clung to her—but now, for two hours each day, she had space to breathe… to feel free.
“Ahhh!” Reika grunted, slamming the volleyball down for the winning point. Cheers erupted from her side of the court.
It had been a class-versus-class match, organized by Alessandra-sensei. Reika’s team won by a hair—and for once, she celebrated alongside her classmates, laughing and high-fiving them without reserve.
Afterward, they all made their way to the locker rooms, chatting excitedly.
Reika opened her locker, still flushed from the game, and checked her phone.
A new message.
Father:
Prepare yourself. Tonight, we will visit the Aokawa mansion. Your fiancé has been decided. This is important—for our goal.
Reika froze.
Fiancé…?
Already?
She hadn’t even been told who. No discussion. No warning.
Just a decision, like she was a tool being slotted into place.
Her stomach turned cold.
Her fingers curled around the phone. Her smile faded. A bitter, trembling breath escaped her lips.
Why? Why can’t I just be free?
Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. Her thoughts drifted to her fantasy novels—the stories that always gave her hope, that always offered escape.
She let out a broken chuckle. “What am I thinking…” she muttered under her breath.
She realized everyone else had already left the locker room. Only Yumi remained, finishing up quietly nearby.
Then the door opened—Alessandra-sensei peeked in.
“Hurry up, girls. You’re gonna be late for next period.”
That’s when it happened.
The ground trembled.
The lights flickered.
And then—reality fractured.
A blinding light swallowed everything.
When Reika opened her eyes, she was no longer in the school.
She was lying on cold stone, the air thick with the scent of blood and ash. Around her, Yumi and Alessandra-sensei were also stirring, just as disoriented.
They had been transported—somehow—to a completely different world.
And it was already on fire.
Reika blinked in disbelief. Mages hurled glowing spells across the shattered hall. Knights clashed with grotesque monsters. Arrows whistled through the air, finding their mark in snarling, misshapen creatures.
For a fleeting, mad moment, Reika smiled.
Did… did God hear me? Did I really escape? From my stupid life?
But her smile faded almost instantly.
This wasn’t the fantasy world of her novels.
This was chaos. This was blood. This was death.
Screams filled the air as mages and knights alike were torn apart. Magic exploded in bursts of light, trying desperately to hold the line against the onslaught. The monsters were real, their grotesque shapes nothing like the noble creatures of stories. Their claws and weapons shredded flesh. Their howls shook the ruined hall.
Reika’s breath hitched—but she didn’t give up.
She rose to her feet slowly, legs trembling, heart racing. Around her, the battle raged on, and yet, she couldn’t let herself freeze.
Then Alessandra moved.
The gym teacher snapped into action, lifting a splintered wooden bench and holding it up like a makeshift barrier. Her body became a shield, standing between Reika and the nearest monster.
Yumi, shaking but determined, scrambled to a fallen archer’s side. She picked up a bow, notched an arrow with clumsy hands, and fired—her shot striking true.
Reika watched them in awe—and for a terrible moment, shame.
They acted. They didn’t even hesitate.
What can I do? she thought bitterly. What good are manners now? What use is test-taking, etiquette, or my family connections here?
Her eyes darted to a fallen girl nearby—draped in elegant white dress, struggling to speak a spell through cracked lips. A princess, maybe. Just like in Reika’s stories.
The girl’s hands glowed faintly with magic.
Reika clenched her fists.
No.
This is my chance. This is what I always dreamed of. To be a hero. To be free. To be someone else.
She closed her eyes, and focused.
Lightning. Lightning. Lightning…
She tried to feel it in her blood, in her breath. Nothing.
Come on, she urged herself, trying again. Her mind burned with images from her favorite novels—mages calling down storms, electricity dancing at their fingertips.
She took a breath.
Focused.
And then—crack.
A flicker. A spark. Light curled at her fingertips, crackling to life.
Her eyes widened.
“I… I did it.”