Her actual boyfriend, Seito Shouichi, had caught her red-handedly, her eyes widened in bewilderment, her lips trembling unable to articulate coherent words, and her terrified face turned as pale as if all the blood had drained from it.
Shouichi's eyes met with her, sharing the same shock sentiment, "Mi~..." His lips failed to utter any words, his mind couldn't believe what he just saw as his vision blurred and glassy.
The corner of his eyes caught bits and pieces, eventually, it had become clear to him that his half-naked girlfriend spent private time in a room with another man, she cheated on him.
Her clothes lay scattered across the floor, a careless trail of fabric leading nowhere.
A stack of cash sat on the nightstand.
A man's shirt and jeans hung loosely over the arm of the sofa.
And by the king-sized bed, a basket brimmed with unthinkable toys of indulgence, their purpose unmistakable in the dim light.
His nervous system shut down immediately and before he knew it, he must have run five kilometres from there. Everything was just hazy flashes of a bad dream, but when he came to, he knew in his heart it was real.
His breath grew ragged as he gasped desperately for fresh air.
The boy ran instinctively to the quiet riverbank, his feet moving before his mind could catch up. He didn't know why, nor did he care to understand. Perhaps it was the serenity he sought— something to counter the storm of turmoil raging within. At this moment, he needed no one but himself, a fragile solitude to shield him from the chaos brewing inside.
Shouichi knew what he saw.
The petrified look on Misaki's face when she opened the door expecting someone else.
Everything was so real yet hazy as if it was in a fever dream.
Shouichi's legs buckled from the crushing weight of loss and fell on his knees, clawing his chest and trying incredibly hard to catch a breather.
"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." He kept repeating to himself, yet he couldn't hear his words as he drowned in his own sea of desolation.
"Ding! Ding! Ding!" His phone appeared to be buzzing. He couldn't care less about it. At this moment, nothing truly mattered to him any more.
Shouichi's tilted his head upward slightly as he stared intensely at the distant cloud, "Hehehe…" An abrupt laugh slipped out of his lips, and like a maniac, he began to burst into loud laughter, "HAHAHAHAHA!" The variety of flooding emotions overwhelmed him, breaking him beyond repair.
In a stark contrast, to Shouichi, there was no hatred toward Misaki — only toward himself.
"I guess my hands weren't clean either," Shouichi recalled grimly. His eyes were devoid of life like those of a dead rotten fish.
"...This must have been a karma. All the sins I had committed, circling around to drown me into the deepest bottom of the abyss," He condemned himself, loathing who he was even more. Because he knew "Seito Shouichi" better than anyone.
***
After a long moment of tranquillity, Shouichi sat, raising his knees to his chest, lifeless motions. His arms embraced his knees, seeking comfort in the dark cruel world. He remained quiet on the grass slope, allowing himself some time to process everything. And for the most part, it appeared his mind calmed down, his hands steady, and his composure had returned.
"So this is how it feels to be NTR-ed," He thought, amused yet a hollow ache spreading through his chest as though the emptiness had clawed its way in and replaced his beating heart. A numbness coursed through every fibre of his being, perhaps some kind of defence mechanism flickering to life.
As if the thorn roots wrapped around his heart. "It really does hurt around here," Shouichi observed while rubbing his chest experimentally. The heartache seemed to be as physical as it was mental for him, he analysed. It was his first heartbreak after all.
"I guess…" He murmured. Then, after drawing a deep breath, he bellowed, "YOU'RE RIGHT, AYANE!!!" His voice echoed through the empty bank, thunderous and unrestrained. "I'LL BREAK UP WITH HER!" Shouichi continued, shouting with all his might. In a way, he found solace in letting it all out, releasing the pressure weighing down his shattered heart and weary soul.