Chapter 20: Kenji’s Life Falls Apart

  Scene 1: Ryuji’s Plan Takes Effect

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  The morning air was crisp, but inside the school hallways, the atmosphere was thick. Kenji felt it the moment he stepped through the front gates—a shift, a weight pressing down on him. Something had changed.

  At first, it wasn’t obvious. No one was pointing fingers or throwing accusations. It was more subtle than that. A pause in conversations as he walked past, as if his presence was suddenly a subject of interest. The way students lingered just a little longer than usual before moving aside for him. The glances. The hushed voices.

  Kenji rolled his shoulders, trying to brush off the unease. It’s nothing. Just your imagination. But deep down, he knew better.

  Across the city, inside a high-rise penthouse, Ryuji Sakamoto sat with a cup of tea in his hand, his phone pressed lazily to his ear. He swirled the liquid absently, his lips tugging into a smirk as he listened to the deep voice on the other end.

  "What is it, Ryuji?"

  "Just thought you should hear something interesting, Father," Ryuji said smoothly, watching the ripples in his cup as if they held the secrets of the world.

  Silence. Then, a low hum. "Go on."

  Ryuji leaned back, perfectly at ease. "There’s a boy running around our city. Someone who’s making quite the name for himself." He let the words settle, savoring the quiet tension.

  "And?"

  "People seem to think he’s your son."

  The silence that followed was heavier this time, measured. Genzo Sakamoto was not a man who wasted words. Finally, his voice came through, calm but razor-sharp.

  "Elaborate."

  Kenji kept walking through the school halls, but now every step felt heavier. The shift in the atmosphere was undeniable. He could hear snippets of hushed conversations—half-finished sentences that set his nerves on edge.

  "No, seriously, something's weird. I heard he—"

  "But I thought he was—"

  "Yeah, but did you see the way he—"

  Every whisper made the back of his neck prickle. He glanced to the side and caught a group of students quickly looking away, their faces giving away too much. Even his so-called underlings, the ones who had once followed him without hesitation, seemed… hesitant. Slower to move. Less certain.

  Kenji clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to demand answers. What the hell is going on?

  Back at the penthouse, Ryuji’s smirk widened as he twirled his spoon in his tea, his tone as casual as ever. "I’ve looked into him."

  "His name?"

  "Kenji Fujimura."

  A beat of silence. Then—“Not ours, then.”

  "No," Ryuji chuckled softly. "But you wouldn’t know that from the way he acts."

  Another pause. This one deeper, heavier. Then, Genzo’s voice, quiet but commanding. "Send me everything."

  Ryuji set his teacup down and picked up a neatly prepared file from the table. His smirk didn’t waver.

  "Already did."

  Scene 2: The Betrayal Begins

  By the time the first class started, Kenji knew—something was very, very wrong.

  The energy in the school had shifted overnight. He wasn’t just imagining things. It wasn’t paranoia. People were talking about him.

  Before, whispers had always been there, but they were different. Respectful. Fearful. Now? Now, they felt like daggers.

  Kenji walked down the hallway, his senses sharp. Every glance in his direction felt like it lasted a second too long. The murmurs—quieter than usual—stopped abruptly whenever he got too close. Even his so-called underlings, the ones who had once followed him unquestioningly, were acting strange.

  It wasn’t outright defiance. No one was bold enough to challenge him directly. But it was in the way they hesitated before answering him. The way they muttered amongst themselves instead of speaking up. The way they looked at each other, searching for confirmation before making a move.

  Kenji stopped near his classroom, turning toward a group of delinquents he had once commanded with ease.

  “Oi.”

  They stiffened at the sound of his voice. One of them, Yamada, a guy who had practically worshipped the ground Kenji walked on, hesitated before answering.

  “Uh. Yeah, boss?”

  Kenji narrowed his eyes. “What’s with you guys? You look like I caught you stealing from my fridge.”

  They exchanged glances. Another long, awkward pause.

  Kenji’s patience frayed. “Spit it out.”

  Yamada scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just… people are saying stuff, y’know?”

  Kenji crossed his arms. “What kind of stuff?”

  More hesitation. Then, one of the others muttered, “That you’re not who you say you are.”

  A cold weight settled in Kenji’s chest. There it is.

  He exhaled slowly, keeping his voice level. “And you believe that?”

  Yamada opened his mouth, closed it again. Another guy spoke up, voice quieter.

  “It’s just weird, y’know? You never fight. You don’t act like a Sakamoto. People are starting to wonder…”

  Kenji’s fingers twitched at his side. They were questioning him. The rumors were working.

  “Who’s spreading this?” he asked, his voice sharp.

  Nobody answered. But the guilty expressions told him everything.

  Ryuji.

  That bastard wasn’t even here, and he was already pulling strings, unraveling everything Kenji had built.

  Before Kenji could say anything else, he felt a presence beside him.

  Tetsuya.

  Silent as ever, standing just close enough to make his presence known but not interfering. His expression was unreadable. He wasn’t defending Kenji. He wasn’t stopping the whispers.

  He was just… watching.

  Kenji looked at him, hoping for some kind of signal, some kind of assurance that Tetsuya was still on his side.

  But Tetsuya just held his gaze, then slowly looked away.

  Kenji felt something sink in his stomach.

  Not him, too.

  The silence between them lasted too long.

  Then, without a word, Tetsuya turned and walked away.

  Kenji was left standing there, staring at the backs of people who used to follow him. People who used to trust him.

  People who were now questioning everything.

  Scene 3: Aizawa’s Reaction

  Far from the school chaos, inside an estate built on power and blood, Shigeru Aizawa sat in his dimly lit study, fingers steepled, listening in silence.

  His underlings stood before him, their heads bowed, awaiting his response. None of them dared to speak first.

  On the table in front of him lay a stack of reports, filled with photos, surveillance notes, and disturbing inconsistencies.

  At the center of it all?

  Kenji Fujimura.

  Shigeru picked up one of the documents, skimming over the latest development. His daughter, his daughter, had made a public declaration of her love for Ryuji Sakamoto.

  Except the boy she had confessed to wasn’t Ryuji.

  That alone wasn’t the problem. No, what set his blood boiling was the next line:

  “Despite multiple opportunities, the boy has not denied it.”

  His grip tightened on the paper.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “That fool,” he muttered, voice dangerously quiet.

  His men tensed at the sound of his displeasure.

  Aizawa set the document down, glancing toward the lead informant. “What do we know?”

  The man cleared his throat before responding. “The girl—Sakura-sama—has been telling everyone that Kenji Fujimura is Ryuji Sakamoto. The rumors have spread throughout the school. We’ve been monitoring the Sakamoto family’s response, but so far… nothing.”

  Shigeru frowned. “Nothing?”

  “No movement from Genzo Sakamoto’s camp. No corrections. No denials.”

  The room fell into tense silence.

  If Genzo Sakamoto wasn’t reacting, that meant one of two things: either he didn’t care… or he was waiting.

  Shigeru leaned back, exhaling slowly. “And the boy? What’s his response?”

  The informant hesitated before answering. “He isn’t denying it outright.”

  Shigeru’s fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair. “So, he’s playing along.”

  “Possibly. Or he’s afraid.”

  Shigeru scoffed. “If he was truly Ryuji, he wouldn’t be afraid.”

  The words tasted like venom on his tongue.

  His daughter—his proud, beautiful, headstrong daughter—had given her heart to a fraud.

  And worse? That fraud hadn’t had the sense to reject it.

  The weight of that humiliation settled in his chest, cold and seething.

  He would not let this stand.

  Shigeru exhaled through his nose, regaining his composure. His voice, when he spoke again, was calm. Too calm.

  “Increase surveillance on the boy. Keep eyes on him at all times.” His gaze darkened. “If he even looks at my daughter the wrong way… handle it.”

  The underlings nodded and began filing out of the room.

  But one figure remained.

  A shadow at the edge of the study, unmoving.

  Unlike the others, this person did not bow. Did not acknowledge the command.

  They simply watched.

  A slow, deliberate movement—just enough for Shigeru to notice.

  For the first time in years, the Yakuza boss felt something unsettling.

  The presence lingered for a moment longer.

  Then, like smoke in the wind, they disappeared.

  Shigeru’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  Something was happening.

  Something even he hadn’t accounted for.

  Scene 4: The Love Triangle Explodes

  The school hallways were already a battlefield before Kenji even realized he was standing in the middle of a war zone.

  Lunchtime had barely started when the storm hit.

  Akari Hayashi stood before him, her eyes blazing, arms crossed as she blocked his path. “So? When exactly were you planning to explain?”

  Kenji Fujimura blinked, still holding his untouched bento box. “...Explain what?”

  Akari’s fingers twitched. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe the part where you’re apparently engaged to some Yakuza princess?!”

  Kenji flinched. “Wait, I—”

  Before he could even try to process the conversation, Sakura Aizawa swept in from the side, graceful, confident, and completely unbothered.

  “It’s not an engagement,” she corrected, voice smooth as silk. “It’s a destiny written in stone.”

  Kenji’s jaw clenched. “You have to stop saying things like that.”

  Sakura tilted her head. “But why would I? It’s true.”

  Akari snapped her attention to Sakura, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  Sakura, unfazed, simply smiled. “What exactly is it that bothers you, Hayashi-san? That I love him, or that he’s mine?”

  The hallway went dead silent.

  Kenji felt the tension shift—students were watching.

  Phones were already out. Conversations were turning into whispers.

  He needed to shut this down. Fast.

  “Look,” Kenji groaned, raising his hands in exasperation. “Can we not do this here—”

  “No,” Akari cut in. “We absolutely can.”

  Kenji braced himself. “Oh, fantastic.”

  Akari pointed an accusing finger at him. “What exactly is going on, Kenji? Why is she calling you Ryuji? Why aren’t you denying it?”

  Kenji hesitated.

  The moment was too long.

  Akari’s eyes narrowed.

  Sakura took a delicate step closer, her confidence unwavering. “Because he knows it’s true.”

  Kenji almost choked.

  “Oh my god,” Akari exhaled, throwing up her hands. “You can’t seriously believe this!”

  Sakura’s expression remained calm. “And you can’t seriously believe you have a say in this, Hayashi-san.”

  The tension snapped.

  Akari stepped forward.

  Sakura didn’t step back.

  For one horrifying second, Kenji thought he was about to witness a full-on brawl.

  “Ladies,” he tried, voice strangled. “We can talk about this like civilized—”

  “Stay out of this, Kenji,” Akari said.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Sakura sighed. “He is the topic.”

  Kenji pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate everything.”

  Then, just as things couldn’t get worse—

  Reina Takahashi entered the scene.

  Unlike the other two, she didn’t storm in.

  She walked.

  Silent. Composed. Calculated.

  Her unreadable gaze swept over the situation—Sakura standing tall, Akari fuming, and Kenji looking like he was seconds away from a mental breakdown.

  She didn’t need to ask what was happening.

  She had heard everything.

  And for the first time—Reina Takahashi hesitated.

  Kenji noticed.

  A terrible, sinking feeling settled in his stomach.

  Reina never hesitated.

  She was always in control. Always logical. Always sure.

  But now—

  Now she looked like someone who had just realized she might be wrong.

  The silence stretched.

  Then, carefully, she spoke.

  “You aren’t denying it.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  It was an observation.

  Kenji’s heartbeat pounded in his ears.

  This wasn’t just Akari yelling at him. It wasn’t just Sakura’s persistence.

  This was Reina.

  And she was doubting him.

  Something inside him twisted.

  A sharp, terrifying realization settled in—if even Reina was starting to question him, how long did he really have left?

  His silence spoke louder than anything.

  Reina’s fingers tightened around her notebook.

  Akari’s jaw clenched.

  Sakura smiled, satisfied.

  The hallway was a spectacle.

  The entire school was watching.

  Kenji had no way out.

  He felt the weight of it—the turning tides, the slipping control, the inevitable fall.

  And for the first time since this all started—

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the act.

  Scene 5: The Final Warning

  Kenji barely made it to the rooftop before his legs gave out beneath him.

  He slumped against the railing, fingers gripping the metal so tightly his knuckles turned white. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty space, the wind rustling through his hair, but he barely felt it.

  His entire world was collapsing.

  The school wasn’t just whispering about him anymore.

  They were questioning him.

  The people who had once followed him without hesitation—the underlings, the delinquents, the ones who had bowed their heads and obeyed—now hesitated.

  Doubt had poisoned everything.

  And worst of all—

  Reina doubted him.

  His breath came shallow, uneven.

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew how dangerous this was.

  Ryuji hadn’t even lifted a finger directly, and yet Kenji could already feel the noose tightening around his throat.

  This was it.

  This was how he lost.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Kenji flinched.

  For a long moment, he didn’t move.

  Then, slowly, he pulled it out.

  Unknown Number:

  I know your secret, Faker.

  His heart slammed against his ribs.

  Another vibration.

  Unknown Number:

  Let’s see how long you last.

  Kenji’s grip on the phone tightened.

  The rooftop suddenly felt smaller, the air too thin, the world closing in.

  His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out every thought except one.

  Someone else knew.

  Someone besides Ryuji.

  The phone buzzed again, the third and final message appearing like a death sentence.

  Unknown Number:

  Tick tock.

  Kenji’s stomach twisted.

  His gaze darted toward the entrance of the rooftop, half-expecting someone to appear.

  No one was there.

  The wind howled.

  Kenji exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his forehead. He needed to think.

  This wasn’t just a school rumor anymore.

  It wasn’t just Akari, Reina, or Sakura fighting over him.

  It wasn’t just the students doubting him.

  This was something else.

  This was someone watching him.

  Studying him.

  Waiting for him to break.

  Kenji let out a shaky laugh, though there was nothing funny about it.

  “Great,” he muttered to himself. “Because I wasn’t dealing with enough already.”

  He forced himself to breathe.

  Focus.

  If someone else knew, then the question was who.

  Ryuji? No. If he wanted Kenji gone, he wouldn’t be playing games like this.

  Takashi? Unlikely. He’d rather manipulate events directly than send cryptic texts.

  The Aizawa family? Possible, but if they were involved, the messages wouldn’t be threats—they’d be warnings.

  So who the hell—

  A quiet creak echoed from behind him.

  Kenji’s muscles locked.

  The rooftop door had just opened.

  Footsteps.

  Slow. Deliberate.

  Kenji didn’t turn around.

  He already knew who it was.

  Tetsuya Arakawa walked past him, his expression unreadable as always.

  He came to a stop beside Kenji, leaning against the railing, hands in his pockets.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then, finally, Tetsuya broke the silence.

  “Boss.”

  Kenji swallowed. “Yeah?”

  Tetsuya’s gaze remained on the horizon. His voice was quieter than usual.

  “If you’ve got a way out of this…”

  Kenji turned his head slightly, watching him.

  Tetsuya exhaled slowly.

  “Now would be the time to take it.”

  Kenji’s fingers curled against the railing.

  There was no sarcasm in his tone. No amusement.

  Just a warning.

  And that was the part that scared him the most.

  Scene 6: The Final Call

  Kenji sat in his room, bathed in the dim glow of his desk lamp, the only source of light in the otherwise darkened apartment. His fingers hovered over his phone, his mind an absolute warzone.

  He had read the messages a hundred times. I know your secret, Faker. Let’s see how long you last. Tick tock.

  He had tried ignoring them.

  That had lasted all of twenty minutes before paranoia set in.

  He had tried deleting them.

  But the moment his screen went black, the words burned behind his eyelids like a scar.

  Now, he just sat there, staring at nothing, waiting for the next move—because that was how this worked, right? If someone went through the trouble of sending cryptic threats, they’d follow up.

  They always did.

  And then his phone rang.

  Kenji stiffened.

  The caller ID was Blocked Number.

  A cold dread curled in his stomach, coiling up his spine.

  For a split second, he considered letting it ring.

  Don’t answer it, his instincts whispered.

  His thumb moved before his brain could stop it.

  He pressed accept.

  He didn’t say anything.

  Neither did the caller.

  Silence stretched between them, thick, suffocating.

  A chill spread through Kenji’s limbs, his heartbeat slowing, each thud loud enough to echo in his ears.

  Then, finally, a voice spoke.

  Calm. Low. Amused.

  “You’ve had a good run, Faker.”

  Kenji’s entire body locked up.

  The voice was completely unfamiliar.

  Not Ryuji.

  Not Aizawa.

  Not anyone he knew.

  Kenji forced himself to speak, though his throat felt tight. “Who are you?”

  A soft chuckle crackled through the speaker.

  “Who do you think?”

  Kenji’s fingers clenched around the phone.

  This wasn’t random.

  This wasn’t a bluff.

  This person knew.

  Everything.

  Kenji inhaled sharply. “What do you want?”

  The voice remained maddeningly relaxed. “Oh, nothing yet. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  Kenji’s stomach turned.

  There was something about the way they spoke, something measured—like they were enjoying this, like they were savoring every second.

  Kenji’s jaw clenched. “If you’re looking to shake me, you’ll have to do better than some anonymous threats.”

  Another pause. Then—

  “Oh?”

  Kenji had less than a second to register the shift in tone before his phone buzzed in his other hand.

  A new message.

  His breath stalled as he glanced at the screen.

  It was a photo.

  Of him.

  Taken tonight.

  From outside his apartment window.

  Kenji’s blood ran ice cold.

  Slowly, he turned his head toward the window, the blinds partially open, revealing the dark cityscape beyond.

  The phone was still pressed to his ear, but he barely heard the next words.

  “I’m already here.”

  The line went dead.

  Kenji shot up so fast his chair nearly tipped over. His pulse thundered in his ears, his body moving before his mind caught up. He grabbed the nearest heavy object—his desk lamp—and rushed toward the window, heart hammering.

  But when he yanked the blinds closed—

  Nothing.

  No one was there.

  The streets below were empty. The rooftops dark. The fire escape untouched.

  Yet the feeling lingered.

  The oppressive, crawling sensation of being watched.

  His grip on the lamp tightened.

  His lungs ached from the breath he forgot to release.

  Tetsuya’s voice from earlier that day echoed in his head.

  "If you’ve got a way out of this… now would be the time to take it."

  Kenji forced himself to breathe.

  But it was already too late.

  He had nowhere left to run.