Chapter 183: The Face I Hated Most
He didn’t notice me at all.
I watched Riku standing still under the flickering streetlight. My pulse hammered in my ears. I needed to act fast before Keiko walked out.
“Okay… stay calm, Ryusei,” I muttered under my breath. I grabbed my phone, thumbs shaking as I typed a quick message.
> Keiko, Riku’s outside. Don’t go out alone. Ask someone to walk you. Please.
Then I immediately switched to dialing the police. My voice trembled as I spoke, “Hello—uh, there’s a suspicious man standing outside Manna’s Kitchen. He looks like he’s waiting for someone.”
The operator confirmed that a patrol was nearby and would check the location. I hung up, my heart pounding. Honestly, I didn’t even know if calling the police was the right thing to do. If they came and Riku saw them first, he might get triggered—do something reckless. But if I didn’t… I have guts something worse could happen.
“Please, just let this end peacefully…” I whispered, glancing back toward the restaurant.
But my stomach dropped when I saw it.
He was gone.
“Damn!” I hissed, sitting up straight, scanning the street. “Where the hell did he go?”
Then, as if to twist the knife in my gut, the door of Manna’s Kitchen opened.
Keiko stepped out, laughing softly with her coworkers as they waved goodnight. She had her bag slung over one shoulder, her glasses reflecting the streetlight.
I looked down at my phone—no reply. She hadn’t even read my message.
“Come on, Keiko…”
My phone rang suddenly. Her name appeared on the screen. I picked up immediately.
“Keiko, listen—Riku was there earlier! Be careful! Run to the usual spot, quickly!”
Before she could even respond, I ended the call.
The “usual spot” — the narrow side alley where we always met to avoid drawing attention from her coworkers.
Then I saw her. Keiko came out from behind the corner, clutching her bag and jogging toward my side of the street, her breath forming small puffs of white in the cold night air.
For a split second, I felt relief—until my eyes caught another movement behind her.
Riku.
He was running.
“Damn it!” I shouted, sprinting across the street.
“Ryusei?!” Keiko’s eyes widened as she saw me rushing toward her. She stopped for a second, confused, before I grabbed her and pulled her close into a tight hug, pushing her behind me.
Riku stopped a few feet away, his eyes glinting under the streetlight. That calm, twisted smirk curled across his face.
“Well, well…” he said, panting lightly. “Why are you here, Ryusei? Bothering me again?”
My breath came heavy as I stared him down, stepping back slightly with Keiko behind me. “That’s my question,” I replied through gritted teeth.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Didn’t I tell you? I changed my mind.”
“What?” I hissed.
“I told you before—I wanted everything that’s yours.” His voice dripped with venom as he took another step forward.
“Why?” I demanded. “I already gave you my body. A new life. We didn’t even know each other before! Why can’t you just live your own life in peace?!”
Riku’s face twisted into something dark, unrecognizable. Then—he laughed.
“You’re right,” he said, almost mockingly. “So right. But that’s the problem.”
He took another step, his voice growing more unhinged.
“I can’t let you live like that. Because I hate myself.” His words trembled with rage. “I hate that body! I hate that face! I can’t stand seeing you happy in it while I… while I still suffer!”
Keiko gasped behind me. I felt her hand clutching the back of my jacket.
Riku’s grin turned feral, his eyes wide with fury. “I need to make you suffer more. I want to see that face in pain.”
God… this wasn’t normal anymore. He—no, she—had lost it completely. Riku’s hatred for himself had turned into a twisted obsession with destroying everything that reminded him of his old identity—of Reina.
And then—he pulled out a knife.
The sound of metal scraping from his coat sent a chill up my spine.
“I need to kill myself to make her suffer!” he screamed, charging forward.
“Keiko, move!” I shouted, shoving her aside as Riku lunged.
The blade missed me by an inch, the air cutting sharp against my cheek. I stumbled back, my heartbeat thunderous.
“Riku, stop! You’re insane!” I shouted, but he only laughed.
Each strike was wild, uncoordinated—but fast. His movements were fueled by hatred, not skill. I ducked and twisted, feeling the wind from each slash brush dangerously close to my skin.
Then—pain.
“Agh!” I gasped as the knife grazed my left arm, slicing through the fabric. Blood seeped out instantly.
“Ryusei!” Keiko screamed from behind.
Riku laughed. “That’s it! That’s the face! That’s the pain I wanted to see!”
He slashed again, and I barely dodged, stumbling backward. My breath came ragged. Every time he missed, he laughed harder, his voice echoing madly across the street.
I tried to grab something—anything—to defend myself, but my hands were slick with blood. I could hear Keiko yelling for help, her voice desperate, but no one dared to come near. People peeked from a distance, frozen in fear.
Another lunge—this time, the blade caught my stomach.
“Argh!” I cried, collapsing to one knee.
The pain was blinding, hot and sharp. I could barely move, the world spinning as Riku loomed over me, panting, knife raised high.
“Now you’ll understand what it means to live with this cursed face!” he screamed, ready to strike.
“RYUSEI!!” Keiko’s voice broke through the chaos.
Before I could react, a loud metallic pang! echoed through the air.
Riku froze, his eyes wide in shock. The knife clattered to the ground as he stumbled forward and fell to his knees.
Behind him stood Keiko—her hands trembling, a dented motorcycle helmet gripped tight in her hands.
Her face was pale with terror. She dropped the helmet, rushing to me.
“Ryusei! You’re bleeding! Oh god—your arm, your leg—”
“I’m… fine…” I muttered weakly, my body barely holding together. I looked past her at Riku, unconscious but breathing, blood trickling down from a cut on his head.
In the distance, flashing red and blue lights painted the wet pavement.
“Glad I called the police…” I whispered, my voice fading.
Keiko held me close, pressing my head against her shoulder, her tears flowed freely as she shouted for help, her voice breaking with panic and fear.
I could hear the footsteps of the officers running toward us, the blaring siren still echoing in my ears. But my vision was blurring, the edges of the world fading into black.
Her voice was the last thing I heard—soft, broken, trembling with fear.
“Ryusei… please… stay with me…”