Chapter 25: The Real Ryuji’s Arriva

  Scene 1 – The Ghost Walks In

  It started like any other school day.

  Which was fitting, really.

  Because I’d spent the past few weeks pretending everything was normal.

  Pretending I belonged.

  Pretending I was him.

  And today?

  Pretending wasn’t enough anymore.

  I was standing in the hallway by 2-B, trying to focus on anything besides the storm brewing behind my eyes, when the air changed.

  Literally.

  Like static had crawled under the skin of the building and whispered, “Something’s coming.”

  Then came the screaming.

  Excited. Confused. Sharp.

  The kind of scream you hear when a celebrity walks in… or a bomb goes off.

  I ran toward the main entrance.

  Students were packed against the walls, phones out, gasps echoing off the tiles.

  And then I saw him.

  Ryuji.

  Same face.

  Same voice.

  Different everything.

  He didn’t walk like a student.

  He walked like a verdict.

  The crowd parted like they knew.

  Like every student could feel something was off—not just because he looked like me, but because he didn’t act like me.

  He walked past them like he wasn’t here to blend in.

  He was here to reclaim.

  And then…

  He saw me.

  I froze.

  We locked eyes.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  He didn’t flinch.

  Didn’t blink.

  Just kept walking until we were face to face, hallway silent behind him.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd like dominoes.

  “Who is that?”

  “Is that—?”

  “They look the same—wait, is this a prank?”

  Sakura and Akari appeared at the end of the corridor, their mouths halfway open, eyes locked on us.

  Reina showed up behind them—and for once, she was speechless.

  Then, through the rising silence, Ryuji tilted his head.

  Smiled.

  And said:

  “Get out of my seat.”

  The hallway exploded.

  Everyone talking.

  Phones snapping photos.

  One kid fainted.

  I didn’t move.

  Couldn’t.

  It felt like standing in front of a mirror—and the reflection had decided it didn’t like me anymore.

  Behind me, the door to the staff office creaked open.

  Genzo stepped out.

  Saw both of us.

  Paused.

  And then… smirked.

  “Should’ve figured you’d find your way back,” he said. “Both of you.”

  That hit harder than anything Ryuji could’ve said.

  Both of you.

  He knew.

  He’d always known.

  The hallway fell silent again.

  Principal Nakagawa appeared from the stairwell, looked at Ryuji, looked at me, and—

  Fainted.

  Just—straight to the ground.

  Everyone stared.

  No one moved.

  Ryuji leaned closer to me.

  Voice low.

  “Let’s not pretend anymore.”

  And in that moment, I knew:

  This wasn’t just the end of my lie.

  It was the beginning of something worse.

  Scene 2 – The Imposter’s Spotlight

  Someone helped Principal Nakagawa off the floor.

  I think.

  I wasn’t totally sure.

  Because I couldn’t stop staring at Ryuji.

  And he?

  Wasn’t blinking.

  He stood like he’d been here the whole time.

  Like this was his school.

  His story.

  I could hear the whispers behind us spreading like wildfire:

  “There are two of them.”

  “Wait—which one is the real Sakamoto?”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “What if we’ve been following the wrong guy?”

  “I heard one of them has a sword.”

  (I did not have a sword. Just panic and a deeply unprocessed trauma complex.)

  A second-year snapped a photo.

  A first-year asked out loud, “Do we bow? Or run?”

  Ryuji turned to face the hallway. Calm. Serene. Regal in a way I never was.

  He spoke once—just one sentence:

  “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

  Which is exactly what people say when they are, in fact, here to cause maximum trouble.

  Reina stepped forward.

  She didn’t say anything at first.

  She just looked at Ryuji.

  Then looked at me.

  Then turned slowly toward Genzo, who was still standing near the staff office door with his arms crossed like he was watching a samurai film unfold in real time.

  “You knew,” she said quietly.

  Genzo met her eyes. “Of course I did.”

  The crowd gasped again.

  Because apparently this was a live soap opera now.

  Akari and Sakura moved closer. Still on opposite sides, still locked in their eternal war—but now united in confusion.

  Akari blinked at Ryuji. “Wait… so, are you the one I gave cookies to last spring?”

  Ryuji gave a small, polite nod. “That wasn’t me.”

  She immediately turned to me and shrieked, “YOU LIED TO ME ABOUT THE COOKIES?!”

  Sakura jabbed a finger in the air. “I knew something was off! You always chewed them too fast!”

  “This is not the moment to litigate baked goods!” I shouted.

  But no one was listening to me anymore.

  Because I wasn’t the center of the story anymore.

  Ryuji was.

  Takashi appeared near the end of the hall, phone in hand, watching everything unfold with a quiet smile.

  “Showtime,” he whispered to no one.

  And that’s when the intercom clicked on.

  Crackling.

  Unsteady.

  Then a distorted voice—one I didn’t recognize—cut through the airwaves:

  “The King has returned. Let the school decide who’s worthy.”

  Click.

  Dead silence.

  Every student looked around.

  At me.

  At Ryuji.

  At Genzo.

  And I could feel it.

  The moment my world split in half.

  Scene 3 – The Crown Slips

  I didn’t move.

  Not because I didn’t want to.

  Because I couldn’t.

  Everyone was still staring.

  But their expressions had changed.

  Less confusion.

  More calculation.

  Like they were trying to decide which version of me they were supposed to be afraid of… or follow.

  And Ryuji?

  He was just standing there.

  Calm.

  Collected.

  Like this wasn’t the biggest identity crisis in the history of high school politics.

  A group of third-years I barely knew whispered to each other and started walking toward him.

  Bowing.

  One of them said, “We’ve been waiting.”

  What. The. Hell.

  They’d been waiting?

  I tried to step forward.

  A few students stepped back.

  From me.

  Not from him.

  And just like that, I felt it:

  The shift.

  The slow, cold tilt of the hallway.

  They didn’t know who the real heir was.

  But they had a feeling.

  And feelings were dangerous.

  Reina was still standing off to the side.

  Watching.

  Not moving.

  Not interfering.

  Just thinking.

  Sakura tugged my sleeve. “Is this a prank?”

  Akari crossed her arms. “It better be. Because I have plans for us, Kenji. And I don’t do love triangles with ghosts.”

  “HE’S NOT A GHOST!” I snapped.

  Ryuji smiled faintly. “That’s debatable.”

  Takashi laughed somewhere behind the crowd.

  The teachers finally started filtering in, trying to restore order.

  Ms. Tanaka froze when she saw Ryuji.

  Mr. Fujimoto physically backed up into a locker.

  Principal Nakagawa—revived but visibly shaken—held onto the office door like it was the last piece of floating wood on the Titanic.

  “Which one is… the real…” she muttered, already wilting.

  Genzo stepped forward again, slow and deliberate, and clapped his hands once.

  “Enough.”

  Silence fell.

  The kind that hums.

  The kind that warns.

  Genzo turned to the crowd.

  “All of you,” he said, voice calm but sharp. “Go to class.”

  No one moved.

  He looked at them again.

  “Now.”

  They moved.

  Quickly.

  No arguments. No questions.

  Just fleeing.

  Within seconds, the hallway was empty again—except for the four of us: me, Ryuji, Genzo, and Reina.

  Ryuji turned to Genzo and said, “You always knew it would come to this.”

  Genzo nodded. “I did.”

  And then, quietly:

  “But I didn’t expect you to be so polite about it.”

  Ryuji smiled.

  I, meanwhile, was standing in the middle of my own personal apocalypse wondering when I lost control of the narrative.

  Probably somewhere between “get out of my seat” and “king has returned.”

  Reina stepped forward slowly.

  Her eyes flicked between us.

  “You’re twins,” she said, the realization finally clicking.

  Genzo didn’t deny it.

  Neither did Ryuji.

  And me?

  I couldn’t even look at her.

  Because the truth wasn’t coming anymore.

  It had arrived.

  Scene 4 – No More Lies

  “You’re twins.”

  Reina said it again, this time like she was trying to make the universe admit it.

  I still couldn’t look at her.

  She stepped closer.

  “You lied to me,” she said, voice quiet but cutting.

  “No,” I whispered. “I just… didn’t tell you.”

  “That’s called lying.”

  She was standing right in front of me now, arms crossed, but her expression wasn’t just angry—it was something else.

  Hurt.

  I hated that more than anything.

  “I didn’t plan this,” I said. “I didn’t ask to be him.”

  “You didn’t have to pretend.”

  Ryuji watched silently.

  So did Genzo.

  No one interrupted.

  Because this wasn’t a power play anymore.

  This was personal.

  “You let me believe in you,” she said. “I defended you. I stood up for you. And the whole time… you knew this was coming.”

  “I didn’t know when,” I said. “I didn’t even know if. But yeah—I knew it couldn’t last.”

  She took a step back.

  And I swear, that hurt more than any punch I’d taken all year.

  Ryuji finally spoke.

  “I didn’t expect her to be this involved,” he said mildly, looking at Genzo.

  “She’s not,” I said quickly.

  Reina shot me a glare. “Excuse me?!”

  “I mean—she wasn’t supposed to be!” I corrected. “But you kind of… barged into my life. And never left.”

  “Is that your apology?”

  “That was… my attempt at one.”

  Genzo raised a hand, silencing us like a director calling cut.

  “Enough sentiment,” he said. “There are decisions to be made.”

  I tensed.

  Ryuji tilted his head. “Are you finally picking a side?”

  Genzo turned to him. “I already did.”

  My heart dropped.

  But then he turned to me.

  “And I picked both.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “You’re brothers,” he said. “Twin sons of the Sakamoto name. And whether I like it or not, the world’s about to know.”

  Reina looked between us.

  “But who’s the heir? Who’s the one this whole mess was built around?”

  Genzo just smirked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  And then he walked away.

  Ryuji didn’t follow.

  He just stood there.

  Watching me.

  Same face.

  Same blood.

  Different everything.

  “You still think this ends with you on top?” I asked.

  “I don’t have to be on top,” Ryuji said quietly.

  He stepped closer.

  Just enough to lower his voice to a whisper.

  “I just have to make sure you’re not.”

  Scene 5 – Get Out of My Seat

  The next morning came way too fast.

  I barely slept.

  Barely moved.

  Mostly just lay in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the ticking clock that felt more like a countdown.

  Because I knew what was coming.

  The halls buzzed differently that day.

  Quieter.

  Tighter.

  Like the school itself was holding its breath.

  Rumors had already spun into full conspiracy mode.

  “They’re twins.”

  “Genzo knew all along.”

  “One of them has a tattoo that proves it.”

  “They're gonna duel at lunch behind the gym.”

  (We were not. Probably.)

  When I stepped into the classroom, everyone stopped talking.

  Sakura looked up, hesitant.

  Akari offered a little wave that wilted halfway through.

  Reina? She didn’t even look at me.

  Just stared out the window, arms crossed tight.

  Tetsuya stood near the door, unreadable.

  He didn’t nod.

  Didn’t speak.

  Just watched.

  I sat down at my desk.

  Well—tried to.

  Because Ryuji was already sitting there.

  Legs crossed.

  Hands folded.

  Wearing my face like it belonged to him.

  I froze.

  So did the room.

  Then Ryuji looked up.

  Smiled.

  And said, with the quiet confidence of someone who’d already won:

  “Get out of my seat.”

  Nobody breathed.

  Sakura dropped her pen.

  Akari’s eyes went wide.

  Reina finally turned—and the look she gave me?

  That was the worst part.

  It wasn’t anger.

  It was disappointment.

  I stood there, heart in my throat, surrounded by classmates who used to call me boss, watching the world I’d built collapse in real-time.

  And then the principal’s voice crackled over the intercom.

  Only it wasn’t Principal Nakagawa.

  It was Takashi.

  Because of course it was.

  “Attention students: Today’s history lesson has been replaced with a live demonstration of succession drama. Front row seats available in Classroom 2-B. Popcorn not included.”

  Laughter echoed from down the hall.

  And still…

  Ryuji just sat there.

  Smiling.

  Waiting.

  Because he wasn’t going to force me out.

  That wasn’t the point.

  He was going to make me walk away.

  On my own.

  And the worst part?

  I was already taking a step back.

  Scene 6 – A Family Torn Apart

  I didn’t fight him.

  Didn’t yell.

  Didn’t punch.

  Didn’t flip a desk, or challenge him, or make some dramatic speech.

  I just stood there.

  Staring at Ryuji.

  Sitting in my seat.

  The one I’d claimed by accident. Defended through sheer panic. Held onto through chaos and confusion and a web of lies I’d tried to turn into a life.

  And now?

  He looked like he’d been there the whole time.

  Like I was the transfer student.

  Like I was the copy.

  Which, let’s face it—maybe I was.

  The silence in the classroom was thick.

  Unmoving.

  Unforgiving.

  I turned slowly, walked to the back row, and sat in the only open chair left.

  No one said a word.

  Ryuji didn’t look back at me.

  He just folded his hands on the desk and stared ahead like he was ready to start taking notes.

  Like it was his school now.

  Because it was.

  Akari leaned toward Sakura, whispering something I couldn’t hear.

  Tetsuya stayed near the door, not even trying to hide the way he was watching both of us.

  Reina?

  She still hadn’t said a word.

  But when I looked at her—really looked—her eyes met mine for just a second.

  There was something there.

  Not forgiveness.

  Not warmth.

  But… understanding.

  And that might’ve hurt more than if she’d screamed.

  Because understanding meant she got it.

  She knew I was never the real thing.

  And maybe… she never expected me to be.

  The bell rang.

  Ryuji didn’t flinch.

  He just opened a textbook and calmly wrote his name at the top.

  Ryuji Sakamoto.

  The real one.

  Outside, the wind kicked up across the schoolyard, scattering cherry blossom petals like paper shrapnel.

  A new era was beginning.

  And I?

  Wasn’t sure if I had any part in it.