Deep within the Suzuki Family Mansion, in a room that had been refurnished and was filled with an atmosphere of luxury and darkness, Kanjuro dismissed his attendants, leaving only himself and Megure Midori, who had just been "sent over" by Megure Jūzō.
The door closed softly behind them with a dull thud, cutting off everything from the outside world. The air was thick with a strange atmosphere where old affairs and current power intertwined.
Kanjuro turned around, his gaze falling on Megure Midori, who stood in the middle of the room looking somewhat uneasy yet still trying to maintain her composure. When he truly saw her face and sensed the subtle aura belonging to "that place" that even years could not completely erase, a rare flash of genuine surprise appeared on his usually calm face.
"It's you?" Kanjuro raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone carrying a hint of subtle playfulness. "The girl in the Underground Laboratory who cried the hardest, yet was the most... stubborn."
Megure Midori looked up to meet Kanjuro's gaze. Her eyes were extremely complex, filled with fear, humiliation, and resentment, but deep down, there seemed to be a strange calm that had settled over the years, which even she couldn't understand, and even... a tiny, imperceptible trace of inquiry.
"Kanjuro... it really is you." Her voice trembled slightly, but it wasn't entirely out of fear. "So many years have passed... You've caused such a huge commotion, even going so far as to use this method to force Megure... Is it because... you still care about me? Did you do all this because you wanted to find me?"
Her question carried a logic unique to women, almost naive, as she tried to find a seemingly reasonable explanation for this insane atrocity that related to herself.
Hearing this, Kanjuro was stunned for a moment, then he let out a low laugh as if he had heard an extremely funny joke. He shook his head, walked up to Megure Midori, and reached out to gently lift her chin, forcing her to look directly into his deep, heart-palpitating eyes.
"Midori, you're still as... fond of over-dramatizing things as ever." His tone was one of undisguised mockery. "This is truly a coincidence, a coincidence that even surprised me a little. I had no idea that Megure Jūzō's wife would actually be you."
He lowered his hand, paced a few steps away, and turned his back to her, his tone becoming indifferent and detached:
"I demanded someone from Megure Jūzō only because he was in my way, and taking away what is most important to him gives me pleasure. That is all."
"As for you... you're just an unexpected... bonus in this game."
These words were cold and cruel, completely shattering the unrealistic fantasy in Megure Midori's heart. Her face turned pale, but she didn't break down; instead, she seemed relieved, yet also more disappointed.
She lowered her head and remained silent for a moment. When she looked up again, the complexity in her eyes returned, but with a touch of relieved honesty.
"So... that's how it is." She sighed softly. "Officer Megure... he is a good man. A truly good man."
She seemed to want to defend herself and Megure Jūzō as she slowly said:
"After what happened back then... I left that place, trying to start a new life. Later, I met Megure. He... he didn't know the truth about the Underground Laboratory; he only knew that I might have been deeply hurt in the past and had experienced... bad things."
Her voice carried a hint of gratitude and deep helplessness:
"He pitied me, protected me, and gave me a home and a name. We... are only husband and wife in name. I take care of his daily life, cook for him, and clean the house... but there has never been any... any intimate contact."
She looked up and bravely faced Kanjuro:
"He respected me and guarded my poor little secrets and dignity. Until... you appeared."
Kanjuro listened to her narrative without any emotion on his face, only a flash of understanding in his eyes. He turned around and looked at Megure Midori again, his gaze like he was examining an object.
"A husband and wife in name only? Keeping yourself pure?" A mocking curve hooked the corner of his mouth. "What a touching story. It seems Megure Jūzō is much more 'great' than you imagined. For the sake of so-called 'justice' and the 'people,' he could personally send over the wife he has carefully protected for so many years, even if she is only his wife in name."
These words were like a knife, piercing Megure Midori's heart once more. She knew Kanjuro was deliberately humiliating Megure Jūzō and reminding her of the cruelty of reality.
"Well then," Kanjuro approached her, bringing a powerful sense of oppression with him, "since fate has sent you back to me, and you have 'kept yourself' for me for so many years..."
His finger gently brushed across her cheek with an air of irresistible authority.
"Tell me, how should I 'settle' you... this unexpected 'bonus item'?"
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Megure Midori looked at the man close at hand, the one who had once brought her endless nightmares and had now returned as an even more powerful demon. Her body trembled slightly, her heart filled with fear of her unknown fate and a... strange sense of resignation, as if entangled by destiny.
Her past was like an inescapable curse, dragging her back into Kanjuro's dark vortex once again. And this time, it seemed she had nowhere left to run. Kanjuro's fingers carried a cold temperature, yet they seemed to ignite a heat hidden beneath Megure Midori's skin for years—a heat she didn't want to admit to. His words were like the sharpest needles, piercing through all her pretenses and self-deception.
"Your body clearly misses me too, doesn't it?" Kanjuro's voice was low, carrying a bewitching magic. His fingertips slowly slid down her jawline, past her slightly trembling throat, and rested on her collarbone, which rose and fell with her tension. "Otherwise, why would you be so willing to keep yourself pure for all these years for the sake of a wretched past, for a man you 'should' hate to the bone? What is it that Megure Jūzō couldn't give you, or rather... what you never truly allowed him to give you in the depths of your heart?"
Megure Midori's body jolted violently. She wanted to push him away, to argue loudly, to maintain her last bit of pitiful dignity, but her limbs felt as if they were bound by invisible chains, unable to move. His words were like a mirror, reflecting the dark corners deep within her heart that she didn't even dare to look at directly—that forced past, full of pain and humiliation, had somehow twisted into a morbid obsession, a distorted yardstick she used to measure all the men who came after.
She looked up, her eyes filled with tears, but those tears were not entirely out of sadness; they were mixed with the shame and anger of being seen through, and a sense of resentment with nowhere to vent.
"You... you are truly detestable..." Her voice carried a sob, but it was soft and lacked any strength, sounding instead like a form of coquetry. "Clearly... clearly you did such terrible things to me... took everything from me... yet I... I can't hate you the way I would hate a real demon..."
She sniffled hard, trying to stabilize her emotions, but the grievance and loss in her words became even more apparent.
"I even... I even pathetically thought that you made such a big scene and pressured Megure because you cared about me, because you remembered me, because you wanted to find me... but I didn't expect... that from beginning to end, you had forgotten me... I am just a... a plaything you can discard at will and then happen to pick back up..."
This accusation, filled with strong personal emotion, did not anger Kanjuro; instead, it deepened the smile on his face. He seemed to greatly enjoy this feeling of playing with others' emotions in the palm of his hand.
"Forgotten?" Kanjuro chuckled softly. He raised a finger and gently wiped away a tear that was about to fall from the corner of her eye, his movements carrying a nearly cruel tenderness. "No, my dear Midori, I haven't completely forgotten you. At least, I remember how... stubbornly cute you were back then."
His gaze became somewhat distant, as if he were lost in memory.
"Among so many women, you were one of the few who, under those circumstances, dared to look me in the eye and say 'no' to me with a sob but with determination. You could have been like the others, carrying my bloodline and obtaining a 'distinction' of sorts, but you refused."
He paused, his tone carrying a rare hint of something close to appreciation.
"At the time, I thought that a woman as contradictory and unique as you was indeed rare. Pure conquest is certainly interesting, but preserving a prickly, reluctant 'purity' might... have a different flavor. So, I let you go and didn't let you get pregnant."
These words were less an explanation and more a deeper humiliation. He viewed her fear and struggle from back then as a unique flavor; he viewed her as a 'collection piece' worth 'collecting' but needing to be kept in its original state.
Listening to his words, Megure Midori's emotions reached an extreme level of complexity. There was a sliver of pathetic joy at learning she hadn't been completely forgotten; there was anger at him objectifying her and viewing her pain as amusement; and there was a deep, inescapable sense of powerlessness. It was as if she could never truly escape this man's shadow, whether physically or mentally.
Kanjuro looked at the ever-changing expressions on her face, knowing her psychological defenses were crumbling. He gave her no more chance to think or organize her words. He leaned down, close to her ear, his hot breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe. His voice carried an irresistible command, yet it was like the most intimate whisper between lovers.
"Since fate has brought us together again, and you have 'kept' yourself for me for so long..."
"Then, this long-overdue 'possession,' I shall unreservedly... accept."
As the words fell, he no longer hesitated. He swept her up in his arms and walked toward the large, soft bed deep in the room.
She knew that from this moment on, she would completely fall into the boundless dark abyss woven by Kanjuro. Like Hattori Shizuka, Toyama Kazuha, and the others, she would become another 'treasure' branded with his unique mark in his vast collection.
Kanjuro, meanwhile, looked with satisfaction at the woman in his arms, who was half-resisting and half-yielding before finally giving up the struggle. He felt the slight tremors from the body that had been 'reserved' for him for many years, and the curve of his mouth deepened further.
The dark bond, after crossing a long span of time, was once again tightly entwined in such a distorted manner.
Megure Midori nestled in Kanjuro's arms, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The deep affection and obsession contained within them were almost overflowing, making her a completely different person from the one who had been resisting and resentful shortly before.
Kanjuro's power and that distorted 'appreciation' were like the strongest poison, completely corroding her remaining reason and her past bonds.
Kanjuro gently pushed her away, stood up, walked to a low cabinet in the corner of the room, opened a drawer, and took out an exquisitely shaped handgun that exuded a cold killing intent. He turned and handed the handgun to Megure Midori.
Megure Midori looked at the handgun before her, a flash of doubt in her eyes, but more so a kind of blind trust. She asked softly, "Kanjuro... what do you want me to do?" There was no fear of the weapon in her voice, only a search for Kanjuro's intent.
A cruel and charming smile hooked the corner of Kanjuro's mouth. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his voice like a demon's murmur, full of temptation and command.
"Midori, prove that your love for me transcends everything."
"Now, take this gun and go out. Find Megure Jūzō."
"You must put on an act of being in extreme pain and shame, as if you have just been forcibly defiled by me."
"Then, when he tries to comfort you, or question me..."
A cold light flashed in Kanjuro's eyes.
"...Pull the trigger and kill him."
Megure Midori's pupils shrank suddenly, and her body trembled instinctively. Kill Megure Jūzō? The man who gave her a status and protected her for so many years, who always respected her even though he couldn't give her love?
However, this sliver of hesitation lasted for less than three seconds. When she looked up and saw the unquestionable expectation in Kanjuro's deep eyes, and felt the surging obsession for Kanjuro within her heart that was almost ready to consume her, all morality, gratitude, and hesitation collapsed in an instant.
In its place was a frantic and burning determination to pay any price to be "together forever" with the man before her.
"As long as I kill him..." Megure Midori's voice carried a hint of a tremble, but her gaze was exceptionally bright and firm, "You will... stay with me forever? You won't abandon me again?"
"Of course." Kanjuro smiled, gently stroking her lips with his finger as he made a hollow and dark promise. "If you offer me this most 'sincere' token of loyalty, I will naturally keep you by my side forever."
This promise became the final straw that crushed Megure Midori's conscience.
She unhesitatingly took the heavy handgun, gripping it tightly as if holding a ticket to "happiness." She took a deep breath and tried to adjust her expression. Soon, a look mixed with humiliation, pain, and collapse appeared on her face, and her eyes became vacant and desperate, a world apart from the obsession of a moment ago.
"I... I'm going now..." she said with a sob in her voice, her acting so realistic it was chilling.
Kanjuro looked at her transformation with satisfaction and nodded.
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