Repulsive

The door to the small, dingy hotel room creaked open, and Masaru stumbled out, reeking of alcohol and sweat. His shirt was half-untucked, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, barely steady on his feet. Behind him, a prostitute lay on the bed, lazily reaching for the money he'd left on the nightstand. Masaru didn't care—he was too busy looking for his new drinking buddies.

Standing just outside the room were two imposing men, both wearing dark suits. They glanced at each other and smiled as they watched Masaru wobble toward them, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Ahh, there he is," one of the bodyguards, a man with a shaved head, said with a grin. "How was it, Masaru?"

Masaru grinned back, staggering toward them. "It was great… g-great. Nothin' like what I get at home, though. Hah!"

The other bodyguard, a tall man with a scar across his cheek, handed Masaru a fresh bottle of sake. "Here, have some more. We've got plenty to celebrate your time with one of our best women."

Masaru eagerly grabbed the bottle, fumbling with it for a moment before taking a long swig. He wiped his mouth again and let out a loud laugh. "You guys… you're too good to me."

The bodyguards exchanged knowing looks. They had their target right where they wanted him—drunk and stupid.

"So," the scarred man said, leaning casually against the wall, "tell us more about your wife, Masaru. Hana, wasn't it? She's quite the beauty. Our boss was quite impressed by her pride."

At the mention of Hana's name, Masaru's grin faltered for a second, but then he laughed even louder. "Beauty? Hah! Maybe once, but she's just an old woman now."

The bodyguards smiled but said nothing, letting him talk.

Masaru downed more of the sake before continuing. "You know, it was an arranged marriage. I didn't even want to marry her in the first place. But my parents, they thought it'd be good for me and our family." He waved his hand dismissively. "I always hated her guts. All stiff and proper, acting like she's better than me. And everyone—everyone!—always called me useless, like I'm some kind of burden. 'Oh, Masaru, Hana's too good for you. You're lucky to have her.' Pfft. They don't know anything."

"They don't know how that bitch is helpless without me!" He shouted, but quickly calmed down seeing the two men were not fancy about his tantrum. 

The shaved-headed bodyguard gave a low chuckle. "Sounds tough, man. Must've been hard being compared to her all the time."

"You have no idea," Masaru slurred, taking another swig. "I never asked for any of this. And now look at me—stuck with a woman like her. I can't stand it. I don't even have money. It's all because of that little bitch and her mother."

The two bodyguards exchanged another glance, and this time, they both smiled a little wider.

The scarred man leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if he were sharing a secret. "You know, Masaru, if you need a little extra cash... there are ways. Could even pay off some of your debts, maybe hit the gambling tables a little more."

Masaru's bleary eyes lit up. "Extra cash? How?"

The shaved-headed bodyguard shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Hana. She's still got that look, you know? Plenty of guys would pay good money to spend time with a woman like her. You could set something up. Easy cash. All you have to do is convince her."

For a moment, Masaru looked confused, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what they were suggesting. But then, as the alcohol muddled his thoughts further, a faint smile crept onto his face.

"Wait… you mean… you want me to... sell her off? Like... like a whore?" He blinked, the realization slowly dawning on him, and then he burst out laughing. "That's… that's brilliant!"

The bodyguards grinned, pleased with how easily he'd taken the bait.

"For starters," the scarred man said, sliding his hand into his pocket, "we could be her first customers. Think of it as a business arrangement." He pulled out a thick wad of cash and casually placed it into Masaru's jacket pocket. Masaru's eyes widened at the sight of the money, and he laughed again, slapping the table.

"Yeah, why not? Why the hell not? She's been holding me back all these years. If she's good for anything, it might as well be this!"

With that, Masaru stood up, wobbling slightly as he pocketed the money. "I'm in. You guys are geniuses."

The two bodyguards watched him leave, their smiles turning colder once he was out of earshot. The shaved-headed one lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag before speaking.

"Think he'll actually go through with it?"

The scarred man smirked, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "He's drunk and desperate. He'll do whatever we tell him. And when he's done being useful, we'll get rid of him and take our money back. Either way he is going to spend it all back to Kurosaki family, so we have nothing to worry."

"Yeah," the other bodyguard agreed. "But what about Hana? She's worth more alive than dead. Might be a waste to kill her. Is it okay to go behind our commander though?"

The scarred man flicked his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe. "If we play this right, we could send her and her kid to a brothel. They'd fetch a good price, especially the girl when she gets older. As for Masaru... he'll probably drink himself to death in some ditch. No one will miss him. Boss only want land, he don't really care whether that woman live or die."

They both laughed quietly, the sound dark and sinister. Their plan was in motion, and Masaru was too blind to see that he had just sold out the only person who might have cared about him.

The bodyguards finished their drinks, their minds already on the next step of their twisted scheme. All they had to do now was wait. Hana's fate—and Kaede's—were already sealed, at least that's what the two bodyguards thought.

***

As Anzu and her friends entered the classroom, they immediately noticed the whispers. Heads turned, and murmurs filled the air. The atmosphere felt tense, and it was obvious why. The incident with the bullies had spread like wildfire, though no one knew the full story.

"Isn't that the girl who got bullied?" one voice whispered from a nearby group.

"I heard the bullies stopped coming to school because of what happened, but shouldn't it be other way around?" another chimed in.

"What did they do? I really want to know," Another girl murmured keen to know what happened.

Anzu exchanged glances with her friends, all of them clearly uncomfortable. The tension in the air wasn't something they could control, but it wasn't surprising. Ever since Ryo had interfered, things had gotten quieter—too quiet. The bullies hadn't returned to school, as if they were terrified of something bigger.

"Wonder what happened to those boys…" Yui muttered, shifting nervously in her seat.

Before anyone could respond, the bell rang, signaling the start of the interval. As students began to file out of the classroom, Miss Konomi slipped in quietly, her eyes darting around the room. She caught Anzu's gaze, and with a quick, worried expression, motioned for her and her friends to follow.

Anzu frowned but stood up, her friends trailing behind her. They followed Miss Konomi down the hall to a small, unused room at the end of the corridor. Once inside, Konomi closed the door behind them, her face pale with worry.

"Konomi-sensei… what's going on?" Anzu asked, glancing at her teacher's anxious expression.

Konomi took a deep breath before speaking, "I need to know what happened with that incident the other day. The school doesn't have the full details, and… well, let's just say the principal doesn't seem keen on getting involved. No one even wants to talk about it."

Anzu gave a small, awkward smile, realizing that Ryo probably had a hand in keeping things quiet. She scratched the back of her neck, hesitant to explain. "Well… it's a bit complicated. What does the school think happened?"

Konomi sighed, leaning against the desk. "Not much. They know the bullies are too scared to come back, but no one wants to press them for details. The principal is… avoiding the issue."

Anzu sighed too, then finally decided to spill the truth. "The thing is, my step-dad… uh, he kind of dealt with it. But not in a normal way. There were, um, yakuza, bodyguards, and even a biker gang involved in this problem. Sensei you better avoid this problem like others."

Konomi's eyes widened in pure shock. "Y-yakuza? Biker gangs?" she stammered, nearly choking on her own words. "You're joking, right? This… this sounds like something out of a movie."

"I wish I was joking," Anzu replied, her smile awkward and guilty. "But it's real. That's why they're not coming back to school."

Konomi took a moment to collect herself, clearly trying to process the absurdity of what she'd just heard. "This is… unbelievable. And your dad—he just handled it like that?"

Anzu nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

Konomi shook her head in disbelief. After a moment, she composed herself and asked the question that had been lingering in her mind. "Can I… meet this so-called father of yours? I need to understand who he really is. I'm really worried about you girls!"

Before Anzu could respond, the school's PA system crackled to life, and a voice announced, "Konomi-sensei, please report to the principal's office."

Konomi frowned. "That's odd. Why now?"

Anzu's expression darkened as she realized what was happening. "That's not a coincidence. I'm pretty sure my dad doesn't want anyone digging into this."

Konomi blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Anzu sighed, rubbing her temples. "Ryo probably has the principal wrapped around his finger. He's trying to keep his involvement quiet… but I wouldn't be surprised if he's pulling some strings behind the scenes."

Konomi stared at her for a moment, then finally nodded, though her face was still filled with uncertainty. "This Ryo… he's crazier than I thought."

Anzu chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, tell me about it."

With that, Konomi left the room, leaving Anzu and her friends to reflect on just how deep Ryo's influence seemed to run. Anzu couldn't help but shake her head as she thought about how far her "father" would go to protect her—and just how dangerous that could be.