"Hmph, I knew that guy was bad news! But would my sister listen? No! If you hadn't chased after her, she could've been in serious danger."
Airi huffed, arms crossed, pacing back and forth in front of Blake. The frustration in her voice was unmistakable, but beneath it was a layer of deep concern.
She had never liked Masato. From the moment Marina had accepted his confession, Airi had been wary. It wasn't love—Marina had barely even spoken to him before that. But her soft-hearted nature made it impossible for her to refuse. She had agreed out of politeness, too scared of hurting his feelings.
And now, just as Airi had feared, it had ended in disaster.
"Now that she's broken up with him, there's no point dwelling on it," Blake said, his voice calm. "The important thing is making sure Marina doesn't spiral. She's probably blaming herself."
Airi paused, exhaling sharply.
With a deep sigh, she ran a hand through her hair, letting go of her lingering frustration. Then, her expression shifted—her usual fiery spark returning. A slow, mischievous smile spread across her lips.
"So... how should I reward you?"
She leaned in slightly, her eyes flicking downward. She could feel the heat radiating from Blake's body, and her smirk deepened.
Blake's blue eyes gleamed with amusement. He leaned closer, whispering something into her ear.
Airi's face immediately turned crimson.
"Hmph! Men are all the same!" she huffed, turning her head away in fake defiance. But the teasing glint in her eyes betrayed her act.
Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "But... since you saved my sister today, I'll allow it."
Blake chuckled, pulling her into his arms. Having Airi as his girlfriend was the greatest blessing of all.
Meanwhile, in Marina's room, the faint sound of voices carried through the house.
Still groggy from sleep, she stirred, her violet eyes fluttering open. She followed the noise, rubbing her eyes as she wandered toward the living room.
Her hands flew to her mouth as she took in the sight before her, eyes widening.
Face burning, she immediately spun around and bolted back to her room, diving under the covers.
Why... why am I jealous of my own sister?
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the thought away.
But sleep didn't come easily that night.
Masato Oono stumbled through the streets, his steps uneven, his head hung low. His mind churned with thoughts of revenge, dark and twisted.
Passersby glanced at him warily, some stepping aside to avoid crossing his path. His expression was wild, his body reeking of desperation and hatred.
He clenched his fists.
The name burned in his brain like a curse.
A blaring horn cut through the night.
A truck barreled toward him, its headlights glaring like twin suns.
Masato's head snapped up. His eyes widened in panic.
For a split second, time seemed to slow. The world blurred at the edges.
The impact sent him flying. His body twisted through the air before slamming onto the cold pavement.
Blood pooled beneath him, staining the cracked asphalt.
His vision blurred, the streetlights above flickering like dying stars.
"Why... did this happen...?"
Pain unlike anything he had ever known surged through his body. Agony. Regret. A cruel cocktail of emotions as his consciousness faded.
His lips parted, as if to curse the world one final time—
But the words never came.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Someone had called for an ambulance.
By the time they reached him, Masato Oono was gone.
Oblivious to the chaos unfolding elsewhere, Blake stretched his arms, finally feeling satisfied.
Airi lay beside him, her body limp with exhaustion. She barely mustered the energy to glare at him.
"You're such a beast..." she mumbled, her voice hoarse.
Blake smirked. "Can't help it. You started it."
Airi groaned, dragging herself toward the bathroom. Every muscle in her body ached, and she swore that next time, she'd make him suffer a little instead.
After soaking in the tub for a while, she finally felt some relief. Her body relaxed, her mind drifting.
The bathroom door creaked open.
Airi turned her head—and her eyes widened in shock.
Standing there, wrapped in only a pink towel, was Marina.
Her cheeks were flushed, her violet eyes downcast.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
And then realization hit.
This night wasn't over yet.