Second Serenade: Chapter 12

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The hallway was tinged with the lonely hues of fading orange as the last traces of the setting sun disappeared. The classrooms were empty, the students already gone. He'd made sure Otomo had left first and had confirmed that Kakegawa and Hayashida had also gone home. He didn't want to be caught by those two; dealing with them would be a hassle. He'd waited until the coast was clear.

Sunahara unlocked the door to the prep room first. The small, four-tatami space was lined with shelves packed tightly with old records, videotapes, and other outdated media.

"The film is in here."

He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a box labeled Girl.

"Next, we need the projector and a video camera. A while back, another student wanted a copy of that same film, so I made one for them. I've even marked the best spot for the camera, so... first, we'll set up the projector..."

He went about the task methodically, his actions precise and impersonal. Aketo had thought that being alone together might prompt Sunahara to speak more openly, to maybe touch on what had happened between them, but he felt completely ignored. It left him feeling hollow, like their relationship had snapped back to just teacher and student without so much as a word. If things continued like this, they'd really just end up copying the film and going home.

"I... actually started going out with Minako Otomo."

He forced the words out, creating an opening. Sunahara slowly looked up.

"Good for you."

The response came like a reflex, without a hint of expression.

"She's cute, and kind, too. Not just on the outside, but deep down, she's genuinely—"

"If you dragged me in here just to brag about your girlfriend, I'm leaving."

Sunahara suddenly slammed his palm down on a nearby desk. The loud crack reverberated through the small room, finally betraying some emotion.

"I just thought you should know," Aketo said, lowering his gaze in a show of contrition. He had his excuses prepared, but before he could get them out, Sunahara let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"I knew you had a rotten personality, but I didn't realize you were this completely oblivious to other people's feelings."

The shock hit Aketo like a cold wave, and Sunahara wasn't finished.

"Should I take a guess at why you dragged me in here? It's just to cover your tracks, right? Kakegawa told me you're going out with Otomo now, and you came running to smooth things over. Don't bother. I already know."

He knew everything. Aketo felt a thick, bitter lump form in his throat. Sunahara continued, his words cutting through the silence like a blade, reading every flicker of panic on Aketo's face.

"I thought it was weird from the start. The guy who made it painfully clear that he hated me suddenly claiming he liked me? Of course I didn't believe it at first. But you kept up the act, and I ended up falling for it. Cutting your wrist? That was a nice touch. An impressive bit of theater, really. Well done. After I dumped Otomo, you swooped in and made her your girlfriend. Makes sense you'd want me out of the picture after that."

"So you... knew all along..."

"I didn't. Not until Kakegawa mentioned you two were together. Then it all clicked. It's a pretty straightforward scheme when you think about it. I was furious at first, but mostly I just felt stupid for ever being taken in by someone like you. But I've already stopped caring about you, so you can stop worrying about what I think."

He cut him off without a shred of hesitation, leaving Aketo at a complete loss for words. Sunahara turned back to the projector, carefully packing it back into its box.

"I actually wanted a chance to talk to you, so this worked out. You only used the film copy as an excuse, right? Well, now that you've had your say, we're done here. If you really want that film later, just ask Hayashida to show you how to work the projector."

Sunahara's expression had cleared, as if he'd finally closed the book on the whole ordeal. In contrast, Aketo felt like bile was rising in his throat, his stomach churning with the injustice of it all. He'd been painted as the villain, cut down without mercy, and the thought of just walking away was unbearable.

He couldn't leave without getting in one final shot.

Sunahara was about to leave the room, and Aketo quickly moved to block the door, cutting off his escape.

"Still have some leftover lines you forgot to deliver?"

The sharp taunt struck him, his cheeks flaring with heat. He wanted to lash out, to see the man crumble, to make him cry.

"If you know that much, why not go all the way and hear everything? Don't you want to know exactly what I thought of you? I really did hate you, you know. Always running your mouth despite being such a little shrimp. But Otomo-san liked you for some reason, so I decided to play along. I never expected you to actually fall for me. I only kept humoring you because I had to, but you were a real pain, you know?"

Sunahara's expression grew visibly sharper. Aketo shrugged and forced a bitter smile, figuring a smirk would have the most impact in this situation.

"Honestly, you just kept escalating things. You've got some nerve. Maybe you should take a good, long look in the mirror. You really thought you had a chance against me? No wonder your best friend stole your lover, with a face and height like that."

Sunahara's face went pale. He'd managed to keep his hands off Aketo until now, but the mention of his "former lover" broke something in him. His fingers clamped around Aketo's collar, though the height difference made it a clumsy effort, and Aketo shook him off with a single backward step.

"Talking to you is a waste of my time. Move."

Even when barked at, Aketo didn't budge from the door. Sunahara, clearly reaching the end of his patience, tried to push past him, his hand already on the doorknob. But Aketo kicked the door shut, the sound of his shoe against the metal frame echoing sharply in the cramped room.

"We're not done talking."

He grabbed Sunahara's arm, peeling his hand from the knob and pulling him away from the door.

"I have nothing to say to you."

The fierce glare Sunahara shot him only fueled Aketo's twisted desire to break him. He wanted to shatter this man, to grind his pride into the dirt, to leave him so crushed he'd never stand up again.

"You liked me, didn't you? Should I make that wish come true for you?"

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Probably the same thing you just thought of."

Without waiting for a response, Aketo forced a kiss on him. It was a rough, insistent collision of lips—no sweet words, no gentle breaths. Sunahara tried to hit him with both hands, but Aketo caught his wrists in his right hand, his left grabbing a fistful of Sunahara's hair to keep his head still as he devoured his mouth. Despite the situation, the intensity of it sent a shiver down Aketo's spine.

He hooked a finger around Sunahara's belt buckle with his free hand, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. He slipped his hand inside, seizing Sunahara through his underwear. Sunahara's body jerked at the sudden, rough contact, the muscles in his back going rigid. Aketo tightened his grip, working him in slow, purposeful strokes, feeling him harden against his palm. Sunahara slid down the door, his legs giving out, but his eyes never left Aketo's, wide and unblinking.

"N-No... stop..."

Aketo ignored the weak protests. His own body felt like it was on fire, his hands moving feverishly over the smaller man's trembling frame. He wasn't even sure if he was doing this to hurt Sunahara anymore or simply because he wanted to. He wanted to break him, to make him call his name, to hear him surrender.

He ripped open Sunahara's shirt, exposing his chest, and pinched one of the small, pink peaks roughly. Sunahara's face twisted, looking on the verge of tears.

"Ah, I forgot—you like it here, don't you?"

Aketo let out a low, mocking chuckle.

The next thing he knew, a sharp, stinging pain shot through his cheek. It took him a few seconds to realize he'd been slapped.

Sunahara took advantage of the brief distance to turn away, trying to stand.

Aketo tackled him from behind, forcing him down onto the floor. With his weight pinning Sunahara down, he yanked his slacks down to his thighs.

"N-No... Stop... Stop it..."

He spread Sunahara's trembling thighs and forced himself between them, his own desire already throbbing with a brutal, unrelenting need. It was tight—painfully so—but he shoved himself in, feeling a scant few inches give way.

"Ah... It hurts... It hurts...!"

Sunahara's fingers clawed at the floor, his whole body quaking beneath Aketo's. Aketo ground his hips against the smaller man, his breaths coming in ragged, feverish gasps.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the moments right after it ended, a fierce sense of superiority washed over him. Despite having forced Sunahara down through sheer strength, Aketo felt an irrational sense of triumph, as if he'd won.

Even after he pulled away, the body he'd violated didn't move right away. Only after a long pause did Sunahara slowly push himself up, clumsily adjusting his disheveled clothes. The rustling of fabric was the only sound in the room. When Aketo continued to stare at him, Sunahara eventually glanced back, seeming to notice the weight of his gaze.

"Are you satisfied now?"

His eyes were red, his lips swollen.

"Happy now that you got what you wanted?"

Aketo had no reply.

"Do you really think I can't be hurt by anything you say or do? How much do you have to humiliate someone before you're satisfied? I never once complained to you. Even when you cut me off, I didn't chase after you or demand answers. Even when I realized you'd just been using me, I was ready to forget it all if you'd left me alone. But you had to call me out here just to make some pathetic excuse..."

Sunahara's arm shot up, and for a split second, something glinted under the fluorescent light. A sharp, metallic pain exploded across Aketo's right cheek. The object clinked as it hit the floor—a set of keys.

"Lock up when you leave. And don't ever come near me again."

The door slammed shut with a deafening finality. Aketo picked up the keys, standing frozen in place for a long while. It didn't take him long to realize that, this time, he was the one who had been discarded—thrown away like a worthless scrap.

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