The flood of memories continued to assault Kanjuro's understanding. He saw Eri Kisaki weeping alone countless late nights; saw her working desperately in her career to give her daughter a better life; saw her rejecting suitor after suitor; saw in the depths of her study drawer, that photo of Kanjuro from eighteen years ago—torn up and carefully pieced back together... "Pfft..."
Kanjuro abruptly withdrew his finger, the dark magic instantly dissipating. He staggered back half a step, his usually calm face now showing clear, unmistakable shock and... wavering!
What he saw wasn't betrayal, wasn't cheapness, but a woman's near-tragic perseverance and lonely sacrifice over eighteen years! His long-held beliefs about human nature, especially about women, were utterly shattered by the truth in Eri Kisaki's memories!
(A marriage of convenience...)
(Kogoro and Kudo Yusaku...)
(She... she really...)
Kanjuro looked at Eri Kisaki, pale and breathing slightly from the forced memory intrusion, momentarily speechless. His heart, wrapped in darkness and frost for too long, seemed pierced by something sharp, sending a strange, clear pang of pain.
Eri Kisaki, holding her forehead, regained her composure. Seeing the rare expression on Kanjuro's face, she smiled—a tired, relieved, yet bleak smile:
"Now... do you believe me? Kanjuro."
"Now... will you still say all women are cheap?"
Kanjuro recovered from his brief shock, but instead of understanding or remorse, he chose a colder, more twisted way to dissect and trample on the sincerity Eri Kisaki had just revealed. The emotion on his face vanished completely, replaced again by a layer of frost, his tone carrying an almost cruel "rationality":
"Believe? I saw your persistence, but what does that prove?" He scoffed, as if mocking her naivety, "Eri Kisaki, your so-called deep feelings might have even fooled yourself. What you can't forget isn't the me now, nor some vague emotion. You're just obsessed with that feeling from eighteen years ago—being conquered by immense power, experiencing extreme physical pleasure in the chaos!"
He paced closer, his gaze like a scalpel, trying to strip away all her emotional disguises and sever that unwarranted pang in his own heart:
"Admit it, your obsession with me, like mine with you, stems more from the most primitive, lowest form of physical desire. You're the same, you just refuse to face it."
"I don't believe it!" Eri Kisaki shook her head fiercely, tears welling up again, but her eyes held a stubborn denial, "If it were just desire, I had plenty of chances these eighteen years to find someone else! Why would I cling to a painful memory and a vague shadow?!"
"You don't believe it?" Kanjuro's lips curled into a cold smile, "That's because you're too stubborn, and too pitiful. You haven't experienced the nourishment of other genuine emotions, so you've turned me into the sole illusion in your barren emotional world."
Eri Kisaki, upon hearing this, let out a bitter, cold laugh. Pointing at herself, she demanded, 'Kanjuro! Open your eyes and look! With my qualifications, over these eighteen years, I've encountered countless outstanding men who pursued me! If I just wanted emotional 'nourishment,' who couldn't I choose?! Why haven't I accepted any of them?! Why have I stubbornly guarded the mess you left behind?!'
Kanjuro looked at her agitated state and suddenly smiled faintly. That smile carried an arrogance that saw through everything, and he tossed back a question:
'Fine, even if it's not for desire. Then tell me, what do you like about me? Be specific.'
Eri Kisaki was stunned by his question, then sank into memories. Her eyes grew somewhat dazed, her voice lowered, carrying a gentleness she herself hadn't noticed:
'I like... how you always put on a harmless, gentle smile, like your perfect face that even women envy, like... the warmth you exude when interacting with people, making them feel as if bathed in a spring breeze, without a hint of arrogance or distance...'
What she described was the Kanjuro who hid beneath a perfect facade, skilled at beguiling hearts.
Kanjuro listened to her description as if hearing the world's most ridiculous joke. He burst into laughter, the sound growing louder, filled with mockery.
'Hahahaha... Just because of that? Just because of these shallow appearances?' He stopped laughing, his eyes suddenly turning deep and dangerous. 'Fine, since you like that version of me... let's play a game, Eri.'
'What... game?' Eri Kisaki, seeing his suddenly changed demeanor, felt a surge of intense unease.
The next second, all gentleness and smiles vanished from Kanjuro's face like a receding tide, leaving only bone-chilling coldness and a nearly brutal cruelty! He abruptly reached out—no longer a gentle embrace, but like iron pincers, he harshly grabbed Eri Kisaki's arm, the force so great it made her cry out in pain!
'Slap! Slap!'
Two crisp, loud slaps struck Eri Kisaki's fair cheeks without warning! The force was so heavy it made her vision darken, her ears ring, her cheeks instantly redden and swell, burning with pain!
It wasn't over! Kanjuro roughly dragged her to the ground, looking down at her from above. His eyes held no warmth, only utter disdain and a desire for control. He lifted his foot, seemingly casual yet insultingly, touching her curled-up body with the tip of his shoe.
'Bitch!' he spat out icy, piercing words, his tone full of disgust. 'Look at me! Now, answer me! Facing this real, cold me who hits you, insults you—do you still have any feelings for me now?!'
Like a thorough abuser, he tore apart all gentle masks, laying bare the darkest, most real side of himself before her.
'This is the real me! A demon! A monster who doesn't understand feelings at all, only knows possession and plunder! Can your ridiculous deep affection still exist?!'
Eri Kisaki sat slumped on the floor, clutching her red, stinging cheeks, looking incredulously at the Kanjuro before her who seemed like a strange demon. The immense shock and humiliation made her whole body tremble; tears poured out like a breached dam—not from pain, but from the collapse of faith and extreme despair.
'Kanjuro... why... why have you become like this...' Her voice was broken, full of heartbreak. 'I waited for you for eighteen years... spent every day in conflict and pain... I told myself you might have reasons... I even... even held onto illusions about you... And what I waited for... is this how you treat me?!'
Kanjuro turned a deaf ear to her sobbing. He arrogantly turned his back, leaving her only a cold silhouette, as if the abuse just now was merely brushing away a speck of dust. In an emotionless voice, he delivered the final, judgment-like question, with a cruelty that felt like charity:
'So then? Now, I ask you—'
'I want to have sex with you. Right here, right now.'
'Will you refuse?'
The air seemed to freeze. Eri Kisaki sat on the floor, cheeks swollen, tear stains not yet dry, enduring the dual trauma of body and soul. She looked at Kanjuro's cold, merciless back, listening to his demon-like whisper of a question, feeling as if thrown into an endless hell.
Should she submit to this naked violence and insult, using her body to verify that long-trampled, worthless 'feeling'? Or muster her last shred of dignity to resist, completely severing these eighteen years of obsession?
Despairing tears silently fell. Eri Kisaki's heart, at this moment, seemed to shatter completely with those two slaps. The cold question echoed in the silent apartment, like a final ultimatum.
'I asked you a question?' Kanjuro turned around, his arrogant, icy gaze falling on Eri Kisaki, slumped on the floor with swollen cheeks, waiting for her submission or collapse.
Under his intense stare, Eri Kisaki's body trembled violently. But this time, she didn't cry or argue. She fiercely wiped the tears from her face and any possible blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, giving Kanjuro a deep look with eyes mixed with extreme pain, disappointment, and even a hint of relief.
Then, using her hands to support herself on the cold floor, she stood up somewhat unsteadily but with unusual firmness. She didn't look at Kanjuro again but silently walked to the side, picked up her dropped briefcase, carefully brushed off the dust, and gathered the scattered documents one by one. Her movements were slow, carrying a heaviness like a farewell.
After doing all this, she finally looked up again at Kanjuro, her voice hoarse but clear:
'I refuse!!'
These three words seemed to use all her strength, like a blade severing all entanglements of the past eighteen years.
She took a deep breath, tightly hugging the briefcase as if holding her last shield, and walked toward the door. As her hand grasped the doorknob, she paused. Without turning back, she spoke in a tone carrying a final plea and warning:
'And... Kanjuro, I beg you... don't hurt Ran.'
After saying this, she turned the doorknob and walked out without looking back. The apartment door gently closed behind her with a dull sound, as if drawing a temporary pause to this twisted relationship.
Kanjuro stood in place, not stopping her, not saying anything more. The arrogance and coldness on his face gradually faded, replaced by a rare, deep silence. He looked at the closed door as if he could see through it to Eri Kisaki's resolute departing figure.
After a long while, he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. This sigh held none of the earlier teasing or control; instead, it carried a hint of... confusion? Even he hadn't anticipated it.
A faint ripple stirred in the air. Jeanne, clad in dark armor, appeared like a ghost. Her crimson eyes swept over the empty living room, finally landing on the silent Kanjuro, a habitual, slightly sarcastic curve at the corner of her mouth.
'Isn't this exactly the result you wanted to see, Master?' Jeanne's cool voice rang out. 'Completely shatter her illusions, trample her dignity, prove her so-called feelings are powerless before real ugliness. Seeing her leave in pain and despair, you should be satisfied.'
Kanjuro didn't answer immediately. He walked to the window, watching the slender, stubborn figure of Eri Kisaki merge into the night on the street below, gradually disappearing. His fingers unconsciously tapped the windowsill... 'Theoretically, yes.' Kanjuro finally spoke, his voice low. 'I hit her, insulted her, used the most direct domestic violence to destroy the 'gentle' illusion in her memory. If she really was, as I said, obsessed only with the physical pleasure of being conquered and the deterrence of power from eighteen years ago, then when I showed an even more violent, more real dark side, she should have been more fearful, even... in this extreme fear and humiliation, developed a Stockholm syndrome-like attachment, thus half-heartedly agreeing to my demand, sinking again.'
He paused, frowning slightly—an expression Jeanne rarely saw on his face: a kind of... contemplation arising from a mismatch between logical inference and reality.
'But, she refused.' Kanjuro said slowly, his tone probing. 'After I inflicted violence and fully revealed the 'real' me, she chose to clearly refuse and leave. This instead... makes me feel a bit strange. It doesn't match my psychological expectations of human nature, especially regarding 'dependency on twisted relationships.'
Upon hearing this, Jeanne let out a low, soft laugh, carrying a hint of novelty: 'Oh? How rare, my Master. Are you... contemplating the complexity of 'human nature'? It seems this Ms. Eri Kisaki has indeed brought you some unexpected...'surprises.'
Kanjuro didn't deny Jeanne's teasing. He nodded, his gaze still deep as he looked out at the endless night.
'Perhaps.' He admitted, but then, that familiar, cold calculation returned to his eyes, even deeper than before. 'But it's not enough. One refusal might just be an instinctive reaction to too great a shock, or a last struggle of residual dignity.'
The corner of his mouth slowly curled into a temperatureless, predator-like arc.
'In short, I need to observe more. I need to... 'play' with her a few more times.' His voice was light but carried a chilling determination. 'Using different methods, applying different pressures, watching her struggle, watching her collapse... until she shows the most thorough, most real reaction.'
'I want to see, after she completely collapses, after all her defenses and disguises are crushed by me... what she ultimately becomes. Will she completely fall, or will she... burst forth with something even more interesting?'
His words declared the start of a new, even crueler 'test' for Eri Kisaki. To Kanjuro, Eri Kisaki was no longer just an old lover and the mother of his daughter, but a special human sample worthy of his effort to'study' and 'dissect.'
The night grew deeper, and the dark experiment in Kanjuro's heart had just begun. Jeanne stood behind him, silently fulfilling her duty as a loyal comrade and observer, waiting for the next drama directed by her master—titled 'Collapse'—to unfold.
---------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the story has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 chapters in advance over on my Patreon: patreon.com/TLHimejima1
Every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone and let me know.