Chapter 50: Sudden Attack
Shin'ichiro Ishigami felt like something was off.
At first glance, Senior Kamiki's words seemed fine—the logic held up. Amnesia couldn't change a person's nature; he truly believed that.
But why did it still feel so strange?
Perhaps it was because the "vibe" was completely different?
For instance, the old Senior Kamiki never used to talk to him this much. Every time Kamiki used him, he would have that smile on his face, eyes squinted, ordering him to do this or that without any burden, showing no reaction even after the task was done. After the amnesia, he was entirely different—friendly, polite...
He actually felt like a decent guy.
The sense of dissonance reached its peak the moment Ishigami saw the "Dry Flower" MV.
Having intended to go to the convenience store to buy some cup noodles, he unexpectedly found the clerk watching Hikari's new video. He had a deep impression of Kamiki's voice, but the face on the screen just didn't match up. It didn't look like him before the amnesia, nor after—it was like looking at a third person entirely...
The two clerks huddled together, chirping and discussing: "Hikari-kun is so handsome!" "I want to have his babies!"
Shin'ichiro Ishigami walked away with a dark face.
*Didn't we agree? Lurk by that family's side first, and wait until Aqua is an adult before killing him. Now he's writing songs, filming MVs, and rising to the top of the entertainment industry—what the hell is this?*
*Are these also necessary steps for the plan?*
Ishigami returned in silence to his cramped basement dwelling. In the tiny space, various bits of trash were piled in a messy heap. The moment he opened the door, a sour stench hit him. But Ishigami seemed oblivious, walking straight ahead to collapse heavily onto the old sofa in the middle.
The words spoken by "Kamiki" remained stuck in his head.
—*What is it that you truly want?*
He suddenly remembered that afternoon when his mother abandoned him. A small child left at the pier, watching her recede with eyes full of hatred. It seemed to be drizzling that day; the fresh scent of rain mixed with silt poured into his mouth and nose, as if every breath carried the sorrow of the homeless.
In the next second, the scene shifted. He found himself holding a blade, his blood-slicked right arm plunged into another person's chest. With a momentary lapse in control, he applied too much pressure, and the wound began to "hiss" as blood spurted out. A vagrant in tattered clothes stared at him with eyes like brass bells, trying to speak but lacking the strength. Finally, with eyes wide open, he stopped breathing.
Ishigami stiffly threw the corpse into the midnight sea, and along with it, his former self.
He realized with surprise that he was completely different from Senior Kamiki. While Kamiki's "art of slaughter" was cool, it didn't suit him. He didn't care about the target or the artistic nature of the method; none of that mattered.
He finally knew what he wanted.
It was like that final look a kitten gave him as it drowned in his hands.
Ishigami grinned.
—*As long as someone looks at him with pure hatred... anyone will do.*
Hikaru Hoshino was becoming addicted to watching his own videos.
He casually copied the link onto Line and sent it to Ai. Very quickly, the top of the interface displayed "Read," but no reply came back.
Japanese people tend to use Line like email; every message is meticulously crafted and pondered over. Even close friends might only exchange a few messages a week. Having been in this world for a while, Hikaru was getting used to it, so he just tucked his phone back into his pocket.
He should have rushed back to Miyazaki to continue filming with the crew, even though he didn't actually have any scenes; or perhaps visited the Xini Entertainment headquarters to try and find a band for the Summer Festival performance.
But Hikaru felt a persistent sense of unease. Without resolving the threat of Ishigami, he felt like there were thorns in his back no matter what he did. For example, leaving Ai in Miyazaki felt unsafe, even with Rin Futamichi there for close protection.
Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrated. Hikaru took it out and found that Ai had actually replied.
"Where did Biyoo run off to?"
"In Tokyo," Hikaru answered truthfully.
"You just gave me a huge fright." Ai typed out a line quietly. Hikaru could almost see the image of her patting her chest in relief.
Ai continued typing: "A fan I'd seen at a handshake event came to the door and knocked. I didn't look closely and opened it. He immediately pulled out a knife and started frantically smashing the door chain. Luckily, Miss Futamichi was sleeping next door, otherwise..."
Otherwise, something terrible probably would have happened again.
Ai put down her phone and held the twins tightly in her arms, her eyes filled with lingering fear.
It was supposed to be a normal night. After dinner, the three had returned to their room to rest. Ai was sprawled out on the bed sleeping, while Aqua and Ruby were bickering—standard daily life, shattered in the next instant.
Perhaps having grown complacent for a while, Ai's guard had dropped. Hearing the knock, she didn't think twice, subconsciously assuming it was Hikaru coming over for a visit. Saying "Coming, coming," she opened the door.
What appeared outside was a young male in a hoodie, looking remarkably like Ryosuke.
He had covered half his face with bandages, and the exposed eyes were filled with fire and hatred.
The man didn't say a word. The moment they met, he pulled out a knife and began striking the door chain over and over. The sound of metal clashing echoed through the empty corridor; with every strike, Ai's heart skipped a beat.
Aqua and Ruby's eyes widened, but they could do nothing. They could only stand futilely in front of Ai, like a low wall that would crumble at a single push. A four-year-old's body was simply too powerless in such a scene; Aqua's palms were nearly bleeding from how hard he was clenching his fists.
Aqua had never felt his powerlessness so deeply—like seeing a patient hemorrhaging in front of him, yet being restricted by his tiny body, unable to even stop the bleeding.
Seemingly finding the knife awkward to use, the man frowned, pulled a small hammer from his pocket, and began striking even harder.
In this moment of crisis, the first person Ai thought of was Hikaru Hoshino.
He always gave Ai a sense of absolute reliability, as if any difficulty could be solved through him. Unknowingly, she had become accustomed to his presence and to depending on him.
Accompanied by the sound of the chain shattering, Ai squeezed her eyes shut.
But the pain she expected never came. When she opened her eyes again, the stranger had already collapsed to the ground. Behind him stood Rin Futamichi, her hand still held in a knife-hand strike position.
Ai suddenly felt her eyes grow moist. She wiped them in confusion, only to find her fingers stained with moisture.
It was almost as if she had just been crying.
---
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