Yellow Diamond: Chapter 1 - part 1

While you may already be familiar with these terms, I’ve provided their English definitions for those who may not be.

1. さん (san): This is a general, respectful suffix used to address or refer to someone. It's similar to "Mr.," "Mrs.," or "Ms." in English. It's commonly used for people of all ages and social statuses in both formal and informal contexts.

2. 君 (kun): This suffix is often used for addressing younger males, or in a more familiar or casual setting. It can be used with people of the same or lower status, and it's commonly used among friends, students, or in professional settings where there is a clear hierarchy (like between a superior and a subordinate).

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Just before the stairway landing, the night sky lay open, cut into view like a patch of darkness. Kunihiko Kamioka, who had stopped to gaze absentmindedly at the dark sky, was drawn to a faint singing voice and instinctively looked up the stairs. He could hear a child’s voice.

“Mi is for minna’s (everyone's) mi, fa is for faito’s (fight) fa.”

The subtle pronunciation at the end of each word was eerily familiar. However, the person Kunihiko knew with that voice was an old childhood friend, the same age as him, and they had both attended the coming-of-age ceremony five years ago. There’s no way, he thought with a wry smile.

He climbed the remaining stairs slowly, one step at a time, feeling a light fatigue. The child's voice grew closer, and when he reached the top of the stairs on the third floor, he noticed a small shadow stretching in front of his apartment.

“Shi is for shiawase (happiness)...”

The faint light from the neighboring apartment's small window didn't reveal the face clearly. He brushed off the ridiculous thought that came to mind. He’s already an adult now… Kunihiko reminded himself, staring at the shadow. As if noticing him, the shadow abruptly stopped singing.

"Uncle, Uncle Kamioka." (not actually his uncle)

A familiar voice. Snapping back to his senses, he hurriedly rushed to the shadow.

"Shun'ichi?"

It was his friend’s son, now six years old. Kunihiko knelt in front of the small child, he placed his hand on Shun'ichi’s pale, blue-tinged cheek in the dim light. His skin was so cold it startled him.

“What were you doing out here in the cold? Does your dad know?”

Shun'ichi nodded slightly, his small body shivering as a gust of cold wind hit him.

“For now, let’s get you inside.”

Kunihiko took Shun'ichi's hand and led him into his room. He immediately turned on the air conditioner’s heater, then rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and started filling the bathtub with hot water. By the time the bathroom was gently fogging up with steam, he had helped the still-shivering child out of his clothes. Despite it being mid-winter, the small boy smelled of sweat, and Kunihiko frowned slightly as he stripped off his own clothes as well.

Seeing Shun'ichi clumsily scrubbing himself, Kunihiko, impatient, grabbed a towel and washed him himself. As he scrubbed behind his ears and his ankles, the towel turned a faint brown, making Kunihiko furrow his brow even deeper as he wondered how long it had been since the boy had taken a bath.

After the bath, Kunihiko dressed the warm, flushed child in his own t-shirt and pants. Shun'ichi sat, huddled in the kotatsu, with his soft brown hair, much like his father’s, as Kunihiko dried it with a hair dryer. He asked,

"So, why did you come to my place? Did you have a fight with your dad?"

As he tapped his hands on the kotatsu tabletop like a piano, Shun'ichi gave a cheerful smile.

“Dad said, after kindergarten, I should secretly come to Uncle Kamioka's house. So, I came.”

"That’s odd... He didn’t tell me anything."

The child turned to look up at him with large, dark eyes.

“Dad said our house isn’t our house anymore, so I’m not supposed to go back.”

With a click, Kunihiko turned off the hairdryer. The boy’s hair, which had been blown around by the hot air, now stuck up like the aftermath of a bombing raid. Kunihiko forcefully tried to smooth it down with his hand.

“But Dad said, ‘Shh, don’t tell Uncle Kamioka.’”

Shun'ichi placed his small index finger against his lips. Since he had been told to keep quiet, it must be something serious. Letting out a sigh, Kunihiko stood up.

“Shun'ichi, do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah, juice.”

With a smile that resembled a squished cream puff, Shun'ichi grinned up at him. Kunihiko, often described as having a sour face, felt the tension in his own expression loosen just a little.

“Alright, I got it.”

He responded cheerfully and opened the fridge. However, inside, only a few cans of beer were carelessly rolling around. Hoping he had some juice somewhere, he checked cupboards he hardly ever opened, but it was a fruitless search. The convenience store was too far. He couldn’t leave a kindergartener alone, and taking him outside in this cold wasn’t an option. He would have to make do with what he had, so Kunihiko set about boiling some water. He prepared two mugs, put instant coffee in them, and then realized something important.

"Shun'ichi, can you drink coffee?"

"I hate it."

Of course, Kunihiko thought. After a moment of deliberation, he dumped out the coffee powder from one of the cups and, instead, filled it with a generous amount of coffee creamer, adding sugar and hot water. Shun'ichi wrapped both hands around the cup, blowing on the warm liquid before taking a sip of the halfheartedly prepared drink.

"Aren't you hungry?" Kunihiko asked, recalling the too-thin arms and the chest so gaunt that his ribs protruded when he saw him in the bathroom.

"Yeah. Dad packed a bag full of bread for me."

"I see."

Shun'ichi squirmed restlessly in the kotatsu as he watched TV, but before an hour had passed, he was asleep at Kunihiko’s feet. Kunihiko gently lifted the unexpectedly heavy, limp body and laid him down on the bed. The wind was picking up, rattling the windows with a continuous creaking sound. He drew the curtains, dimmed the lights, and quietly closed the bedroom door. Turning off the TV, he opened his laptop to get some work done while he waited. Shun'ichi’s father finally showed up to pick up his son late into the night, just before midnight.

The front door was pounded on with no regard for the late hour. Startled by the inconsiderate noise, Kunihiko jumped to his feet and rushed to the entrance.

"Stop banging the door!" he shouted, throwing the door open. Immediately, a gust of cold wind blew into the apartment.

"Yo."

It was Isamu Sanada, Shun'ichi's father and Kunihiko’s childhood friend. The last time Kunihiko had seen him was six months ago.

"Is Shun'ichi here?"

"He's already asleep."

Isamu scratched his head with his fingers buried in his messy hair, his lips curling into a vague smile that suggested more than just the wind had caused the disarray. A scattering of white flakes clung to the shoulders of his black wool coat.

"Bring him out. We're heading home."

"Where to?"

Kunihiko's voice was colder than the wind blowing through the doorway. Isamu's snow-covered head slowly lowered.

"Where else? My place."

"You got kicked out of your apartment."

Isamu shook his head vigorously.

"No, I left on my own. That old hag of a landlady kept nagging me about everything."

"Isamu."

Isamu's shoulders trembled, and his back hunched. Kunihiko pressed his hand against his forehead and sighed.

"Come inside. It's cold out there."

Reluctantly, Isamu stepped into the entryway. As Kunihiko closed the door behind him, Isamu stood awkwardly in the dim light, constantly fidgeting with his hands, which were dirty around the nails. His face was grimy, and his skin was greasy, giving off an unpleasant sheen. Getting closer, Kunihiko caught a musty odor, even worse than Shun'ichi’s.

"Why did you leave your apartment?"

"Who cares about that? Just bring Shun'ichi out already, I'm in a hurry."

The stench of alcohol clung to Isamu’s breath.

"Have you been drinking?"

The drunk man quickly covered his mouth.

"I haven't."

"Don't lie when it's so obvious!"

Isamu's already hunched back curled in even further, making him look even smaller.

"You scare me."

Isamu muttered under his breath, his lips sulking in a pout.

"Scared? Of meeting a friend?" Kunihiko shouted. Only after yelling did he remember it was the middle of the night, and he forced himself to calm down. The thought of Isamu needing alcohol to face him left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You're always mad at me. I know it's my fault, but when you yell at me, it makes me feel awful. You spoil Shun'ichi like crazy, but you always get mad at me. It's favoritism."

Isamu glared up at Kunihiko with resentful eyes, making it hard for Kunihiko to keep his anger in check. He clenched his fists, holding back the urge to shout.

"Shun'ichi is a kid, and you're an adult. Of course, I treat you differently!"

Isamu sighed heavily and shrugged his shoulders.

"Ahh, I don't wanna hear it! This is why I didn’t want to come here. I knew you’d have something to say. If it wasn’t for Shun'ichi, I would’ve never come."

Even though Isamu said he hated being yelled at, even though he claimed it scared him, Kunihiko couldn't stop his mouth from running.

"And that's why you show up in the middle of the night? On top of that, you bang on someone's door like that at this hour... People might be sleeping. Did it not cross your mind that you could be bothering the neighbors?"

"They might not be sleeping," Isamu muttered.

Kunihiko clenched his teeth in frustration.

"Don’t give me that nonsense! And what's with your appearance? Have you even been taking baths? If you'd just followed the things I taught you, you'd be living normally, and maybe you'd even have some savings by now. I thought things were going well because I hadn’t heard from you."

Kunihiko’s words poured down like a storm. Isamu, now completely sulking, stopped responding altogether.

"You say you came to pick up Shun'ichi, but where were you planning on taking him? You got kicked out of your apartment, didn’t you? Were you planning to sleep under a bridge?"

"...In the station... passageway."

Kunihiko grabbed Isamu's right ear and yanked it hard.

"Ow, ow! It hurts, you idiot!"

"In the dead of winter, sleeping in a station?! Don’t be ridiculous! If you want to sleep at the station, go ahead and do it alone. Shun'ichi is staying here. I’m not letting him catch a cold because of you."

Tears welled up in Isamu's eyes as he glared back at Kunihiko.

"So, it's fine if I catch a cold, but not Shun'ichi, huh?"

"You still don't understand a damn thing I’m trying to tell you."

Isamu's right ear, still being pulled, turned bright red, but Kunihiko didn't let go.

"Shun'ichi is still a child. He doesn’t know his right from his left. He needs his parents' help at a time like this, and all you've done is drag him along with your mess."

Kunihiko finally released his grip, leaving a red imprint on Isamu’s ear. Isamu hung his head, staring at the worn-out tips of his shoes.

"Get inside," Kunihiko said, still simmering with residual anger.

"If you've been kicked out and have nowhere to go, stay here until you find somewhere. The reason I’m pissed is because you didn’t ask anyone for help before it got this bad, and because you were about to make Shun'ichi sleep at a station in this freezing weather. Got it?"

"...Yeah."

Isamu’s sulking reply was barely audible. As he stepped into the room and removed his shoes, Kunihiko noticed that what had once been white socks were now filthy, a grimy gray.

"Take a bath first. I’m sure you haven’t bathed in days."

Isamu sniffed the sleeve of his coat and gave a small twitch of his nose.

"It’s only been about ten days..."

"Use body soap and scrub yourself until the towel doesn't turn black anymore. Wash your hair until the shampoo lathers properly. If I see even a hint of dirt left, I’ll make you get back in there."

Kunihiko handed Isamu some clean clothes and shoved him toward the bathroom. Then, quietly, he peeked into the bedroom. Shun'ichi was sound asleep, breathing softly. Kunihiko had been worried that the argument might have woken him up, but it seemed everything was fine. Sighing with relief, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a can of beer from the fridge, and gulped down half of it in one go.

His childhood friend hadn’t changed one bit. The moment Kunihiko took his eyes off him, he got dirty again. And just when things became unmanageable, he came running to Kunihiko for help. There was something frustratingly endearing about it.

Kunihiko had been in love with his childhood friend, who was now a father, for a very long time. From the outside, it probably didn’t look that way at all. But no matter what, Kunihiko Kamioka was in love with Isamu Sanada.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Kunihiko grew up in a small mountain town where several forest paths branched off from the national road. It was a slow-paced town, full of rice paddies and fields. Even within the town, Kunihiko’s home was set further back. There were few houses nearby, and the only child around his age to play with was Isamu, who lived about a hundred meters (about 328 ft) away. Every day, Kunihiko would walk down the road to Isamu’s house—a road carved from the mountain’s slope, with peeling pavement and few cars ever passing through. Isamu’s house was so old and worn that it looked like it could collapse at any moment. After heavy rain or a typhoon, Kunihiko would visit with a flutter of anxiety, wondering if that tilted house, which even a child could see was leaning precariously to the right, had finally fallen flat. A small part of him hoped it had—if Isamu’s house was destroyed, maybe Isamu would come live with him, and then they could play together every day.

But Isamu’s house was surprisingly stubborn, never crumbling no matter how strong the rain or wind. Kunihiko disliked Isamu’s parents, who lived in that shabby house. His father was always either yelling while drunk or sleeping with his round belly sticking out like a raccoon. His mother would always glare at Kunihiko with sharp, fox-like eyes. The child of the raccoon and the fox was a mouse. Small, dark, quick, and never able to sit still.

When it came to swimming, running, climbing trees, or anything involving physical activity, Kunihiko could never beat Isamu. He envied him for that. He wanted to be able to swim, run, and find snake skins like Isamu did, as if he had a sensor in his head. But as they neared elementary school age, Kunihiko gradually began to notice something odd about Isamu. Unlike in the daycare they had both attended, where everyone knew each other, in the larger world of elementary school filled with unfamiliar faces, Isamu stood out in a strange way. At the entrance ceremony, while all the new students sat neatly dressed in their clean, formal clothes, Isamu alone wore the same dirt-stained clothes he had played in the day before. Neither his raccoon father nor fox mother had shown up. Surrounded by so many adults and children, Isamu clung tightly to Kunihiko, unwilling to leave his side.

"That guy has a weird face. His eyes are too far apart, like a flounder."

In fourth grade, someone said that about Isamu.

"He’s dirty and dumb too."

Unlike in the lower grades, where simply excelling in physical activities could make you the “best,” as the students grew older and more aware, other factors started to matter.

“Cute kids, cool kids, smart kids.”

Isamu’s position grew weaker and weaker, and he became a target for bullying because he was always dirty and couldn’t keep up in class. Though he struggled with even basic comprehension, if someone took the time to slowly and repeatedly explain things, he would eventually manage to solve a problem. But by the time Isamu had finally grasped one thing, the others had learned four or five and moved on. There was no way for him to keep up. Kunihiko didn’t care that Isamu was dirty or that he wasn’t good at studying, so he couldn’t stand seeing him bullied for those reasons.

One day in July, Kunihiko didn’t part ways with Isamu like usual. Instead, he pulled his reluctant friend by the hand and brought him back to his own house.

"Wash Isamu’s clothes."

When Kunihiko asked this of his mother as soon as they arrived, she looked surprised and then smiled. While the clothes dried, the two of them played inside the house, rolling around in just their underwear. But later that night, Isamu’s mother stormed into the house, furious. She looked terrifying, like a demon with her eyes raised in anger. Kunihiko was so scared that he couldn’t even bring himself to peek out from the entryway.

"Mind your own business!"

"Don’t embarrass me!"

Fragments of those words reached his ears. After the demon left, Kunihiko’s mother cried alone. She didn’t say anything to him, but after that, he could no longer ask, “Wash Isamu’s clothes.”

In fifth grade, Isamu shoplifted. For a few days before, he hadn’t been given much to eat at home, and he had barely gotten by with school lunches and snacks that Kunihiko shared with him. But on Saturday, there was no school, no lunch, and no way to stave off his hunger. Unable to bear it any longer, Isamu acted out of desperation. Kunihiko heard about it from his mother. That Saturday evening, Isamu had rushed into a supermarket, grabbed a loaf of bread, and ran out. He was caught almost immediately, but no matter how much they tried to stop him, no matter how much they hit him, Isamu didn’t stop eating the stolen bread. After that incident, it wasn’t just Isamu’s lazy parents who were labeled, but Isamu himself as well.

"With parents like that, the kid’s bound to be bad too."

Kunihiko knew Isamu was being abused by his parents. He had seen them hit and kick him without hesitation, even right in front of him. After the shoplifting incident, the violence towards Isamu grew even worse, and the bruises in hidden places deepened by the day. When the homeroom teacher saw Isamu’s back during swimming class, they were so shocked they gasped. Even when social workers visited Isamu’s ramshackle home to try to discuss things, his parents ignored them. After that, Isamu stopped attending the swimming lessons he once loved so much.

“They threw away my swim trunks.”

On the way home from school, Isamu muttered quietly.

“I’ll lend you mine.”

“No, if I swim, my mom will hit me again.”

Even though Isamu no longer swam at school, he still swam when it was just the two of them. During summer vacation, they swam every day at a hidden pool deep in the mountains, a place no one else knew about. Isamu would stay in the water for what seemed like forever, like a fish, reluctant to come out. The two of them, completely naked, would press themselves against a large, smooth rock, letting the sun dry their wet bodies. The sun’s rays were so hot, it felt like their heads were boiling. The constant buzz of cicadas droned in their ears like tinnitus.

“I’ve never cried, not even once.” Isamu said this proudly, showing off the worm-like swelling on his back as he laughed. His face is tanned, his teeth are full of cavities, and his front teeth are full of gaps. When it was just the two of them, Isamu wasn’t a bullied kid. He was someone to admire, someone who could swim and run faster than anyone.

But they couldn’t stay children forever, chasing dragonflies and staring wide-eyed at colorful shaved ice. As they got older, Isamu gradually became aware of the way people looked at him and what those looks meant. And as if reflecting this, Isamu’s behavior started to resemble that of a "truly bad kid." It started with stealing. But unlike before, it wasn’t because he was hungry. He now stole erasers and notebooks for the fun of seeing people get upset. That much was still tolerable. But when he started stealing money and spending it for fun, his already poor reputation hit rock bottom. Though scolded by both his teacher and Kunihiko, Isamu eventually stopped stealing money, but once trust is broken, it’s hard to regain.

“I heard Sanada might not be able to get into middle school. You know, he’s really bad at studying, so there’s no way he’ll make it into a regular school. They say he might have to go to one of those special schools.”

The thought of middle school without Isamu was unimaginable. The moment Kunihiko heard this, his mind went blank. Despite his worries, Isamu ended up advancing to the local middle school with Kunihiko, as if nothing had happened.

As soon as they entered middle school, Isamu became a target for the upperclassmen and was beaten up. After that, he grew scared of going to school. No matter how much Kunihiko tried to encourage him, Isamu wouldn’t put on his uniform. Even when Kunihiko managed to coax him into going, Isamu would often skip class because he couldn’t understand the lessons. Their classes were separated, and Kunihiko could no longer keep track of everything Isamu did, like he had before. It wasn’t long before bad friends began to gather around Isamu, like bugs drawn to honey. These friends would skip class with him and play around. They spent entire days in the downtown area, stealing bicycles, and when they ran out of money, they shoplifted. Isamu was taken into custody several times, and in the spring of his second year, he was sent to a juvenile reformatory. The incident that led to this was when he injured an elderly person while pickpocketing, combined with the dire situation of his home life. While Isamu was in the facility, Kunihiko wrote him letters several times, but not once did he get a reply.

During Isamu’s absence, their entire town was set to be submerged beneath a dam. The few families who lived there all moved away. The creek they had played in, the forest paths they used to explore—everything was swallowed up by the dark waters.

By the time Kunihiko became a first-year student at the prefectural high school, he heard that Isamu had been released from the facility. It was around the time of the May holidays, and Kunihiko, skipping soccer practice despite having just joined the team, set out to meet Isamu. The address an old classmate had given him was in the neighboring town. Isamu now lived in an apartment as old and dilapidated as the house he had lived in before, slanting dangerously.

Kunihiko’s emotions were a swirl of regret for not being able to protect Isamu back in middle school, sadness that he hadn’t been informed of Isamu’s release, and happiness at the prospect of seeing him again. He knocked on the door, his feelings all jumbled together. A muffled voice came from inside. Isamu was there. His anticipation reached its peak. There was so much to talk about after two years of not seeing each other. The door opened. Standing there was Isamu—his skin a little darker, wearing a stretched-out T-shirt with a sagging collar. He had grown a little taller, but his face hadn’t changed. Isamu glanced at his visitor with unfocused eyes and muttered,

“Who are you?”

Kunihiko couldn’t find any words. The loud voices of children playing in the apartment courtyard gradually faded away.

“Hey, someone’s here?”

A woman’s voice came from inside the room.

“Some guy I don’t know,” Isamu replied.

“...It’s me, Kunihiko.”

As Isamu started to close the door, his face shot up in surprise. He stared intently, as if trying to bore a hole through Kunihiko with his eyes.

“Oh, it really is Kunihiko. I didn’t recognize you at all. You’ve gotten so tall!”

Isamu grinned, revealing the same goofy, gap-toothed smile he had always had.

“What brings you here all of a sudden?”

“I came because I heard you got out.”

“Who is it?” The sound of footsteps and another voice came closer. Leaning on Isamu’s shoulder, a woman appeared, looking up at Kunihiko. She seemed older than Isamu, thin, with brittle-looking brown hair.

“This guy’s my childhood friend,” Isamu said, pointing at Kunihiko.

“Huh.”

“Kunihiko, this is my girlfriend.”

The woman introduced as his girlfriend looked Kunihiko up and down without any hint of politeness. Her shirt, so thin that Kunihiko could make out the outline of her chest, made him hastily look down in embarrassment.

“He’s handsome, but he seems serious. Is he really your friend?”

“Shut up, stop bugging me. Go away. Kunihiko, come on in.”

The room they entered was a small, four-and-a-half tatami-sized space. Even with the narrow hallway connecting the kitchen and bathroom, the whole apartment seemed smaller than Kunihiko’s own bedroom. Isamu rolled up the futon laid out on the floor and shoved it into the corner, like he was rolling a sushi roll.

“Aren’t you living with your parents?”

While grabbing a can of beer from the fridge, Isamu gave a lazy, “Ahh.”

“While I was in the facility, everyone moved out when the town was going to be submerged by the dam, right? After that, I have no idea where they went.”

With the move, Isamu’s parents had abandoned him. Kunihiko had always known they were terrible parents, but he hadn’t imagined they would go as far as to leave their own child behind. The cruel reality of it, and the anger at such irresponsible adults, made Kunihiko’s body tremble.

"Well, whatever, it's no big deal. But I'm glad you wrote to me. If you hadn't, I wouldn’t have even known our town was gone. Anyway, drink up."

Isamu set the beer down in front of him. Without hesitation, he cracked open the tab and raised the can to his mouth, but Kunihiko lunged forward and grabbed his hand.

"We're still minors, you know!"

From the corner of the room, where she was intently painting her nails, Isamu's girlfriend burst out laughing.

"Minors, huh? That's hilarious."

Kunihiko could feel his cheeks and ears burning. They were probably bright red. Isamu, looking surprised, widened his eyes.

"W-What? It's just beer. It's no big deal, everyone drinks it."

Despite knowing he was in the right, Kunihiko couldn't help but feel embarrassed as he scolded Isamu.

"Not everyone drinks it. It's just the people around you, but it's actually against the law."

Isamu obediently set the beer down. His girlfriend kept laughing, seemingly finding the situation endlessly amusing. The awkwardness in the room made it difficult for Kunihiko to say anything more, so he fell silent, staring down at the floor. In his mind, he kept repeating to himself, I’m not wrong. I’m not wrong.

Eventually, Isamu’s girlfriend, still giggling slightly, walked over to the closet with a swaying gait. She retrieved something that looked like a sheet of stamps and returned.

"Since Isamu’s friend came all this way, here’s a little present from me."

She shrugged, her expression mocking.

"This stuff’s expensive, you know. So make sure to enjoy it."

She tore off a piece from the sheet and held it out to Kunihiko. A bad feeling crept up inside him. But no, it couldn’t be… It wasn’t possible.

"Put the side without the picture on your tongue. You’ll feel really good, really fast."

When Kunihiko didn’t reach out to take it, Isamu's girlfriend gave him a disappointed look, then handed it to Isamu instead.

"Here, take it."

"This stuff is seriously great. I love it."

Without hesitation, Isamu placed the strip in his mouth, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Ahh…"

His expression became hazy, like he was drifting off into a fog. Kunihiko, panicking, tackled Isamu and shoved his hand into his mouth, pulling out the strip. Then, he snatched the remaining sheet from the girlfriend’s hands, ran to the bathroom, and flushed it down the toilet.

"What the hell are you doing, you idiot!"

Isamu's girlfriend started hitting him on the back.

"Idiot! Idiot! Do you have any idea how much that cost? Isamu, kick this jerk out already!"

Her shrill voice rang painfully in Kunihiko’s ears. Isamu just stood there, staring at him in shock.

"Do you really think that stuff is good for your body?"

"Quit spouting your stupid logic!"

The girlfriend screamed, clawing at Kunihiko’s face and arms. Even though she cursed and kicked at him, Kunihiko couldn’t hit her back. She was a woman, after all.

"Everyone does acid! I know it’s bad for me, but who cares? It doesn’t matter! Even if we die from this, no one gives a damn about us anyway!"

She kicked him out of the apartment. From that day forward, Kunihiko realized his battle with Isamu had only just begun.

Footnotes

T.N: I want to thank Runa for the Ko-fi and for purchasing the raw for this novel 💕

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