Chapter 24: The Betrayal Begins
Scene 1 – Loyalty Pending…
There’s something uniquely horrible about walking into your own classroom and knowing—knowing—that no one’s fully on your side anymore.
Not your friends.
Not your so-called followers.
Maybe not even yourself.
The room was quiet when I walked in.
Not the normal sleepy quiet.
Not the “we’re pretending to do homework” quiet.
The tense quiet. The kind where you expect someone to pull out a contract and challenge you to a duel over territory rights.
I walked to my desk. Sat down.
No one said anything.
Tetsuya didn’t even meet my eyes.
That was the worst part.
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “No assassination attempts today? I’m flattered.”
He didn’t laugh.
Didn’t smirk.
Didn’t anything.
Instead, he finally looked up and said, “Kenji… we need to talk.”
Oh no.
That phrase.
Those four words were never good. In fact, they should be legally classified as a threat.
“About?”
Tetsuya leaned in, low voice, serious tone.
“The guys are talking.”
“What guys?”
“The delinquents. Your ‘loyal followers.’”
“Oh.”
Pause.
“They think you’re hiding something,” he said.
Another pause.
“They’re not wrong,” I muttered.
Tetsuya frowned. “They’re saying you’ve changed.”
“I’ve always been this panicky and awkward!”
“No. I mean changed recently. Like you’re... pretending to be something you’re not.”
Well. That’s not ominous at all.
“And what do you think?” I asked, trying to sound cool and failing miserably.
He studied me.
“I think you’re not telling me everything. And that’s starting to become a problem.”
Stab me next time, why don’t you.
We sat in silence.
Until Reina walked by and slapped a folder on my desk.
It was my “Behavior Review Form,” which was currently 12 pages long and read like a rap sheet.
“Sign it,” she snapped.
“What is this?”
“Documentation. For the school board. To prove you’re still technically a student and not, quote, ‘a hostile force corrupting the academic environment.’”
“That’s a direct quote, isn’t it?”
“From three teachers.”
She stared at me for a second too long.
Then, softer: “Are you okay?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“I haven’t.”
“And I’m pretty sure you just tried to sign this form with a piece of pocky.”
I looked down.
Yep. Chocolate smear where my name should be.
“...It’s been a long week.”
Reina rolled her eyes but didn’t push further.
She just hovered for a moment, like she wanted to say something else.
Then walked away.
And Tetsuya?
Still watching me.
Not like a bodyguard anymore.
Like someone deciding if I was still worth guarding.
Scene 2 – The Note That Breaks Everything
By lunchtime, the classroom tension had calcified into something thick and cold and sharp.
The guys in the back row—my so-called crew—weren’t laughing like they used to. No inside jokes. No “Yo, Boss” greetings. Just half-lidded stares and whispered conversations the second I turned away.
They were waiting for something.
I just didn’t know what.
Until I opened my locker.
And found the note.
Not folded.
Not hidden.
Just sitting there, staring up at me like it had always belonged.
Black ink.
White paper.
Four words:
“Nice life you’ve built.”
And underneath:
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Shame if someone took it back.”
I stood there, holding it like it might explode. My heart was thumping in my ears, a metronome of doom.
Tetsuya came up beside me and froze the moment he saw the paper.
“That from who I think it’s from?” he asked quietly.
“Yup.”
“Want me to burn it?”
“I don’t think that would help.”
He eyed the hallway. “You think anyone else saw?”
“Does it matter?” I whispered. “They’ve already decided. All he has to do now is walk in.”
Tetsuya didn’t argue.
Didn’t offer a pep talk.
Didn’t tell me to get it together.
He just stepped back—just a little.
A few inches.
But I felt it.
The space.
The hesitation.
Like he wasn’t sure if I was still his boss... or just a placeholder.
I stuffed the note deep in my pocket and slammed the locker shut hard enough to rattle the row.
Students glanced over.
Then looked away.
Like they were waiting for something else.
Something bigger.
Someone better.
“I need air,” I muttered.
I bolted down the hall and out into the courtyard.
Cold wind. Empty benches. Clear sky. And a brain that felt like it was trying to punch through my skull.
He was real.
He was here.
He was coming for everything.
And me?
I was just the guy who’d borrowed a crown without asking—and now the real king was walking through the door.
Scene 3 – Crowned by Chaos (and Possibly Love?)
I had barely sat down in the courtyard when the first voice struck.
“Kenji~!”
Akari.
Appearing like she’d been summoned by sheer romantic tension.
She dropped onto the bench beside me with a soft, suspiciously practiced sigh, like we were filming a drama and she knew exactly how good her hair looked in the wind.
“I made you something,” she said sweetly, pulling out a lunchbox wrapped in a pink cloth covered in little hearts. “Heart-shaped tamagoyaki and rice balls that spell out ‘K + A = ?’.”
I blinked.
“That’s… deeply specific.”
“You’re welcome.”
Before I could fake a reason to escape, another shadow appeared across the grass.
Sakura.
Not smiling.
She sat on my other side without a word.
Then casually pulled out a folder labeled:
Sakamoto Engagement Proposal – V3 (Revised for Legal Clarity)
“I brought documentation,” she said, without looking at Akari.
“Are you kidding me?” Akari hissed. “Again with the paperwork?”
“Some of us believe in tradition.”
“And some of us believe in love,” Akari snapped, grabbing my arm.
Sakura grabbed the other.
“You’re clearly confused,” she said to me, voice calm, terrifying. “I’ve done the math. Statistically, I’m the best match for you. Personality alignment: 82%. Academic compatibility: 94%. Mutual trauma: 110%.”
“What does that even mean?!” I shouted.
Reina appeared like a thundercloud with legs.
She did not sit down.
She loomed.
“I swear,” she said, crossing her arms, “if this turns into another public marriage proposal, I will set something on fire.”
Akari beamed. “Hi Reina!”
Sakura raised a hand. “I’d like to propose a counter-marriage.”
“No one is proposing anything!” Reina snapped.
I stood up.
Big mistake.
Both girls stood with me.
Sakura gently took my hand.
Akari shoved hers between ours.
Reina looked like she was seconds away from declaring martial law.
“I am—” I started.
“No,” she cut in. “You don’t get to say anything right now. You don’t deserve to say anything.”
“Okay,” I said weakly.
She stormed off.
Akari sighed. “Aw. She’s in love with you.”
“No she’s not,” I said quickly.
“She is,” Sakura and Akari said in unison, then glared at each other.
I was spiraling.
Hard.
My love life had become a three-headed monster, and I was the torch it was fighting over.
“You both need to stop,” I said, backing away. “This isn’t a contest. I’m not a prize!”
“But you’re our prize,” Akari said cheerfully.
“And I intend to win,” Sakura added.
I turned and sprinted.
Again.
It was my only defense mechanism.
Behind me, I heard them arguing about bouquet colors and seating charts and something called “emotional leverage.”
I didn’t stop until I reached the school roof.
And even then, I wasn’t alone.
Because there—leaning casually against the fence—
Was Takashi.
Watching the chaos below with a smirk.
“You really know how to pick ‘em,” he said.
“I don’t pick anything. They just keep showing up.”
He looked at me.
Really looked.
And said, “Might want to figure it out soon. People are getting… territorial.”
He handed me a popsicle stick with a note taped to it.
I blinked.
“Even queens can turn on their kings.”
I looked up.
Takashi was already walking away.
And I was left standing on the roof—
Staring at a love war I didn’t start.
With no allies left in sight.
Scene 4 – The Slow Exit of Loyalty
I didn’t go back to class after lunch.
I just wandered.
Through empty hallways, past classrooms buzzing with people who either thought I was a fraud—or were waiting to see me prove it.
The worst part?
I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
By the time I worked up the courage to check in with the guys, they were hanging out behind the gym, like usual.
Except it wasn’t like usual.
No one stood when I showed up.
No “Yo, Boss!”
Just silence.
Tetsuya was there too, sitting on an overturned crate, arms crossed.
I stepped into the group like I was entering enemy territory.
“Hey,” I said.
They looked at me.
Not mad.
Not even annoyed.
Just… guarded.
Like I was a stranger crashing their private party.
“Got a minute?” I asked Tetsuya.
He nodded, but it wasn’t the solid, dependable nod I was used to.
It was cautious.
Reluctant.
We stepped aside.
“I’m guessing word’s gotten around,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Anything specific?”
“Just whispers.”
He didn’t look at me.
“Like what?”
“That you’re not who you say you are.”
I waited for the punchline.
There wasn’t one.
He finally looked up. “Is it true?”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Tetsuya’s jaw tightened. “Because I’ve got guys asking why we’re backing someone we don’t know. And I don’t have an answer anymore.”
That hit harder than I expected.
“I didn’t lie on purpose,” I muttered.
“You didn’t stop it either.”
Silence.
Then he added, softer: “You could’ve told me.”
I swallowed hard.
Tried to speak.
Failed.
And in that silence, I felt the ground shift under me.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
But just enough to know I was standing alone.
“You gonna tell them the truth?” he asked.
I didn’t respond.
He nodded like he’d expected that.
And walked back to the group.
One of the guys asked him something.
He didn’t say anything.
Just shook his head.
They didn’t look at me again.
Not once.
I stood there for a long time.
Then walked away.
No one stopped me.
Scene 5 – The Mirror Doesn’t Lie
The locker room was empty when I walked in.
Not surprising. Last period had ended thirty minutes ago, and most sane people were already halfway home eating convenience store yakisoba and watching anime.
But I wasn’t sane.
Not anymore.
I just needed a place to think.
To breathe.
To pretend my entire life wasn’t on fire.
The mirror above the sink caught me mid-stumble.
I looked… bad.
Like “caffeine withdrawal during a natural disaster” bad.
Hair wild, tie crooked, eyes haunted.
I barely recognized myself.
Which was ironic.
Because neither did anyone else.
I leaned closer.
Stared into my reflection.
“Who even are you?” I whispered.
The mirror didn’t answer.
Of course it didn’t.
But something else did.
A voice behind me.
Calm.
Low.
Familiar.
“Nice jacket.”
I turned.
No one.
Just the locker room door swinging shut.
I backed up, eyes scanning every corner. Every row. Every shadow.
Nothing.
And then I saw it.
On the bench.
Another note.
Folded this time.
Like whoever left it wanted me to hesitate.
I picked it up.
Unfolded it.
“You’re not the only Sakamoto in this school anymore.”
—R
My legs nearly gave out.
He was in the building.
Not just watching anymore.
Walking the halls.
Breathing my air.
Maybe even talking to my friends.
I shoved the note into my pocket, heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
This was it.
This was the shift.
The final warning.
Ryuji wasn’t playing games anymore.
He wasn’t teasing.
He was coming.
And me?
I had no idea how to stop him.
No allies.
No plan.
Just a name I’d borrowed…
…that he was about to take back.
Scene 6 – The Ghost Wearing My Face
I didn’t remember walking to the courtyard.
I just… arrived.
My brain had checked out somewhere between “You’re not the only Sakamoto in this school anymore” and total existential collapse.
It was twilight again—of course it was. My life only seemed to fall apart in moody lighting.
I sat on the edge of the planter box near the school’s back wall, knees bouncing, eyes locked on the ground.
Everything was too loud.
The wind. The distant voices. The hum in my skull that kept whispering:
You’re done.
And then I heard footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Not student footsteps.
Heavier.
Confident.
I looked up.
And there he was.
Standing just beyond the school gates.
Same height.
Same hair.
Same face.
But not me.
Not even close.
He wore the uniform better. Moved like he owned it. Hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
No panic.
No fear.
Just…
Presence.
We locked eyes.
For three seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
That smile?
It said everything.
“I’m here.”
“I’m real.”
“You had your fun.”
“Now it’s my turn.”
Then—just like that—he turned and walked away.
No rush.
No drama.
Just a man reclaiming what was his.
I stood there.
Frozen.
Watching my world walk off in someone else’s shoes.
The wind kicked up a loose flyer from the pavement.
It hit my leg.
I picked it up.
An announcement for next week’s school assembly.
With a new headliner written in red pen across the top:
“Guest Speaker: Ryuji Sakamoto?”
The question mark wasn’t mine.
It was his.
Like a dare.
Like a joke.
Like a promise.
I didn’t sleep that night either.
Because how could I?
When the ghost of my brother…
Wasn’t a ghost anymore?
