Chapter 24

Mei lies stiffly in the hospital bed, the sterile sheets tucked tightly around her as she blankly stares at the ceiling.

The doctor’s words still echo in her mind:

“The force around your neck caused one of the cervical vertebrae to fracture,” he had said gently.

“That fracture damaged your spinal cord. That’s why you can’t move or feel anything below your shoulders right now. We’ve stabilized your spine, but injuries like this often result in permanent paralysis.”

Mei lets out a slow, fragile sigh. The sound is quiet, almost swallowed by the hum of the machines, but inside she feels the weight of it.

For a moment, despair threatens to sink in―but then rage flares, hot and raw.

“I-Isamu,” she rasps, her voice shaking with barely contained fury.

“Dori.. Hajime..” she spits the names like venom, each one sharp and jagged. “Yuki..”

Her chest heaves violently, shallow breaths coming faster now. A low, trembling whine escapes her throat, like a growl trapped behind her lips. Her nostrils flare, and though her body refuses to move, her shoulders jerk slightly with each ragged pant.

And then her mind latches onto the memories, dragging her back.

○○○

It was break time.

Mei waited a bit until the hallway was quiet. The sound of her footsteps muffled against the tile. She slipped into the restroom and ducked into an empty stall.

The door clicked shut behind her, cutting off the outside world.

From the waistband of her skirt, she pulled out her phone, a small pack of cigarettes and a lighter she had tucked there.

With a quick flick of her thumb, she struck the lighter and brought it to the tip of a cigarette. Smoke curled sharply around her, filling the cramped stall as she drew it deep into her lungs, savoring the sting and the freedom of doing exactly as she pleased―thanks to her father’s status, which she took advantage of.

She hummed and scrolled through her phone, answering a few messages of her friends.

The faint click of the outer door barely registered. Someone had entered.

Mei glanced under the stall, curiosity lighting her sharp eyes―but then it hardened into a frown.

The polished shoes and neatly pressed pants of a male student came into view.

Worse, he was locking the door.
Locking it.

Something only teachers or staff should be able to do. Something that shouldn’t have been possible at this hour.

Mei didn’t hesitate. She shoved the stall door open with a sharp motion and stepped out. Smoke still curled from the cigarette between her fingers, her expression cold and unimpressed.

It was Dori.

The transfer student.

He stood in the middle of the restroom like he’d been waiting for her―feet planted steady, shoulders relaxed, posture annoyingly confident.

But the thing that made Mei’s eyes narrow was what he held.

Dangling loosely from his right hand was an electric hair clipper.

“The f*ck are you doing in here? And why did you lock the door? How’d you get the keys?” she eventually snapped.

Smoke curled from her lips as she stared him down. “You know this is the girls’ restroom, right?”

Her eyes flicked to his white hair, falling over one eye.

“What, you couldn’t see the damn sign with that mop hanging over your face?” she mocked, taking another slow drag from her cigarette, but before she could blow out the smoke, the world jerked sideways.

Dori lunged, grabbing her hair so abruptly her breath snapped in her throat. She barely had time to snarl before he swung her forward, her phone flying out of her hand.

Her forehead struck the mirror with a sickening crack. The glass splintered in a jagged spiderweb, and for a split second she saw her own reflection fracture with it. 

A hot sting blossomed above her brow. She lifted a hand on instinct, and when her fingers came away damp, she froze.

Blood.

Warm, thin, sliding down toward her eye.

Her cigarette hit the floor with a faint hiss, rolling uselessly away.

“Y-You!” she choked, grabbing at his wrist, trying to claw him off. “Get off me, you f*cking psycho―”

Dori yanked her back and slammed her head into the mirror once again, making it spider-web further from the first cracks.

Her skull felt dazed, a heavy weight pressing behind her temples. And then, instinct took over.

Mei’s hands shot up, clawing at his grip on her hair again, her nails scraping against his fingers as she twisted her body with all the strength she could summon.

He still held her firmly, but she managed to pivot just enough to face him. Her leg shot out in a desperate, wild kick aimed at his groin.

Dori shifted just in time, sidestepping her kick and retaliating with a brutal counter. His foot slammed against her knee with bone-jarring force.

Pain exploded up her leg, white-hot and blinding, and she heard the sickening ‘crack’ of her joint giving way.

A sharp, terrified scream tore from her throat as her body gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, gasping, clutching her mangled knee.

Dori released her hair and straightened, looking down at her with that smug, infuriating smirk.

“F*ck you! Get the f*ck away from me!” she yelled, trembling but venomous, her hands scrabbling at the cold tile.

He grabbed her hair again and yanked her toward a stall. Before she could struggle, he forced her head down into the toilet. The icy water splashed over her face, dripping down as he slammed the lid, flushing it abruptly.

A cold rush surged over her head and shoulders, and she coughed and gagged.

Finally, he let go, stepping back with that same unreadable smirk.

Shivering, soaked, and humiliated, she dragged herself across the stall floor, crawling on the slick tile as best she could.

“My dad.. my d-dad will bury you! You don’t know who you’re dealing with!” Her breaths came in ragged pants, her glare wild.

Dori stepped forward slowly―deliberately. His shoes clicked against the floor with an almost casual rhythm, each step shrinking the space between them. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement as he watched her drag herself away like a wounded animal.

“You always run your mouth,” he said quietly as he crouched, bringing himself closer to her level. “But you really shouldn’t threaten people when you’ve got so many.. secrets.”

Mei froze mid‑crawl, her nails digging into the tile. “T-The f*ck you saying?”

Dori tilted his head, the faintest smirk touching his lips. “You think your father will ‘bury’ me?” he asked. “B*tch, if he ever found out what you’ve been doing to get those perfect grades..”

Her blood ran cold.

The room seemed to shrink around her, the walls tightening.

“Your father―Raito Hanekawa.” His smile sharpened. “He’d bury someone, all right. But it wouldn’t be me.”

Mei’s hands trembled on the cold tile beneath her, her back pressed against the wall as if she could disappear into it.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Dori’s smirk widened.

Slowly, almost lazily, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen glowed, illuminating his face in the dim light of the restroom.

“Really?” he said softly, tilting the phone so she could see. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Before she could respond, he swiped, and the screen displayed a video―just enough for her to recognize herself.

Her stomach dropped, heat and terror flushing her face. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven pants, and a cold pit of panic bloomed in her stomach. 

Her mind raced straight to her father. His expectations for his children were merciless. Success wasn’t enough; perfection was required. And she knew, painfully, what happened when she failed.

When her grades had slipped in the past, she’d felt the sharp sting of his hands, the way his anger could explode without warning.

And now.. the thought of him discovering what she had done with the principal to secure those good grades made her stomach twist and churn violently.

Her wide eyes flicked up at Dori, searching his face for any clue, any hint of reason. Her lips parted, voice barely a whisper.

“Who.. who are you? Why..? How..?” she murmured, her heart thudding rapidly. “Why are you doing this? W-What do you want from me?!”

Dori leaned in slightly, the phone dangling before her eyes. His smirk was gone, replaced by a cold, hard seriousness.

“I’m Yuki’s boyfriend,” he said quietly.

He let the words hang as his eyes bore into hers. “And I know everything you did. You made her life a living hell, and I won’t let that go, b*tch.”

Suddenly, the low buzz filled the quiet of the restroom as he flipped the switch of the electric hair clipper he was holding.

Mei’s eyes went wide. She thrashed wildly, jerking backward.

“Get the f*ck away from me! I swear―don’t you dare touch my hair! I’ll f*cking kill you!” she screamed, her voice high and frantic.

Dori didn’t hesitate. The electric clippers buzzed loudly as he pressed them to her scalp.

She tried to twist, to shove him away, her nails raking at his hands and arms, but he held firm, his grip tight and unrelenting. 

“F*ck you! You piece of shit! Get your f*cking hands off me!” she shrieked, voice breaking. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t stop cursing.

“I’ll f*cking kill you! You bastard! No, n-no, no! My hair―my f*cking hair!”

The buzzing clippers stayed firm against her scalp, vibrating through her skull no matter how desperately she thrashed. Strands of her hair fell fast, tangling in her fingers as she clawed and kicked, her movements violent and desperate.

And then―just as abruptly as it had begun―the buzzing stopped.

Dori stepped back a few inches, letting his hand drop, the clippers falling quiet at his side.

Mei froze, shoulders shaking. The cold air hit her newly exposed scalp in a way that made her skin prickle. She didn’t dare move―didn’t dare lift a hand to confirm the horrible emptiness she already felt.

For a long, heavy moment, neither of them said anything.

Then Dori took a step closer again, and a sharp, cruel laugh slipped out.

“You look pathetic,” he sneered.

“SHUT UP!” Mei screamed, trembling with fury.

Dori pointed the clippers at her like a warning. “Listen carefully, b*tch,” he started. “You’re going to apologize to Yuki. In front of the whole class. On your knees. You hear me?”

He tilted the phone in his other hand, letting the corner of the paused video catch the light.

“If you don’t,” he continued, “this―” he gave the phone a small shake, “goes everywhere. Teachers, classmates, friends, boyfriend, family, the news―hell, I’ll make sure it’s the first thing your dad sees when he wakes up.”

Mei’s nostrils flared as she glared up at him, humiliated and seething. “F*cking hell..” she muttered under her breath, the words bitter and defeated.

Dori straightened, rising to his feet with a slow, deliberate movement.

For a moment he just stared down at her―bald, shaking on the tiles―his expression unreadable except for the cold satisfaction in his eyes.

He stepped back toward the door, unlocking it. “Oh and, don’t even think about getting your loyal fanclub involved,” he warned, glancing over his shoulder one last time. “I’ll kill them.”

“Wait.”

Mei pushed herself up a little, eyes narrowed. “Tell me how you got that video.. It’s from last year, you weren’t even here yet. Who recorded it?”

Dori tilted his head slightly, letting the tension stretch between them.

A faint, cold smile tugged at the edge of his lips, and his eyes flicked toward his phone before snapping back to her.

“Yuki did.”
 
 
TO BE CONTINUED…