Chapter 22 Worlds Apart

He slammed his fist against the wall, the sharp pain a fleeting distraction from the storm raging inside him.

“Why… why can’t I just be better? Why can’t I be someone who deserves to be happy?”

He hated himself for crying, for being so weak, but he couldn’t stop. The pain was too much, the weight of his own inadequacy too heavy to bear.

"She’s everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And I’m… I’m nothing. I’m just a shadow, watching her from the sidelines, too afraid to step into the light. Too afraid to tell her how I feel. Too afraid to risk losing her. But what do I even have now? Nothing. I have nothing. Because I’m too much of a coward to fight for what I want."

He curled in on himself, his body trembling as the tears continued to fall. He hated himself. Hated every part of himself. His weakness, his fear, his inability to take even the smallest step forward. He was trapped in a prison of his own making, and he didn’t know how to break free.

"I’m pathetic. I’m worthless. I’m… I’m nothing. And she deserves so much more than that. She deserves someone who can stand beside her, someone who can make her happy. Someone who isn’t… me."

The words echoed in his mind, a cruel, unrelenting mantra but eventually, the tears stopped, and he returned to his job. The storm inside him quieted, leaving only a hollow emptiness in its wake. He wiped his face with his sleeve, his movements slow and mechanical. He didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel anything. Just… numb.

"I’ll never be enough for her. I’ll never be the man she deserves. But… I can’t stop loving her. I can’t stop wanting her. And that’s the worst part. Knowing I’ll never be good enough but still wanting her anyway."

Kataomoi’s self-loathing was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway. He looked up and saw Professor Ichiban rushing toward the exit. Her usual composed demeanor was gone, replaced by a sense of urgency that made his heart skip a beat.

She was on the phone, her voice sharp and clipped, completely unlike the warm, gentle tone he was used to.

  “I’m on my way, Kaiju! Just keep it contained until I get there. Do not let anyone near it! Understood?!”

Kataomoi’s instincts kicked in, and he stepped forward, his voice trembling as he called out to her. 

“Professor Ichiban! Is everything—”

She barely glanced at him, her expression cold and distant.

  “I'm sorry, not now, Kataomoi-kun. I don’t have time.”

Her words hit him like a slap, freezing him in place. He had never heard her speak like that before—so sharp, so dismissive. Whatever was happening, it was serious. More serious than anything he had ever seen her deal with.

Before he could say another word, a car screeched to a halt at the gates, the tires skidding on the pavement. The driver, a man Kataomoi didn’t recognize, jumped out and opened the door for her. Ichiban didn’t hesitate. She slid into the back seat, still on the phone, her voice low and urgent. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Kaiju, don’t do anything until I arrive.”

The car door slammed shut, and the vehicle sped off, leaving Kataomoi standing there, stunned and helpless. His mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. Something was wrong. Something big. And she was at the center of it.

He wanted to run after her, to demand answers, to do something. But he couldn’t. He was just a security guard. His job was to stand at his post, to watch and wait and follow the rules. He wasn’t part of her world, not really. He was just… there.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He had spent so much time wallowing in his own self-pity, so consumed by his feelings for her, that he hadn’t even noticed the weight she was carrying. She had her own battles to fight, her own responsibilities to handle. And he? He was just a bystander, watching from the sidelines as always.

"I’m useless," he thought bitterly, his fists clenching at his sides. 

"I can’t even help her when she needs it. What good am I?"

He wanted to do something. Anything. But what could he do? He didn’t even know what was happening. All he knew was that she was in trouble, and he was powerless to help her. All he could do was stand at his post and wait... Like always.

A few minutes later, Akarui appeared from around the corner, his usual carefree grin plastered across his face. He sauntered up to his brother, hands in his pockets.

 “Hey, big bro. Still mad at me? Or are we cool?”

Kataomoi didn’t even look at him. His gaze was fixed on the gates, his mind still replaying the image of Professor Ichiban rushing off in her car. His response was mechanical, devoid of any real emotion.

  “Yeah, whatever. We’re cool.”

Akarui’s grin faltered. He tilted his head, studying his brother’s face. Kataomoi looked… off. His eyes were distant, his expression blank, and his shoulders slumped as if carrying an invisible weight.

  “Hey, you look terrible. Is everything alright?”

Kataomoi’s reply was flat, almost dismissive.

  “Yeah. Just great.”

This wasn’t like his brother. Kataomoi was usually the serious, responsible one, but even he had his limits. Right now, though, he looked… dead inside. Akarui hesitated, unsure whether to press further. He wasn’t used to seeing his brother like this, and it made him uneasy.

“Okay, then,” Akarui said slowly, deciding not to push. 

“I’ll be going, then. Class is over, the professor ran off, and I’m thinking about heading over to see Dad. You don’t mind if I step out early, do you?”

Kataomoi shrugged, his tone still detached. 

“Sure, whatever. Do what you want. You’re not a little kid.”

His brother’s response was so unlike him. Normally, Kataomoi would at least lecture him about responsibility or staying out of trouble. But today? It was like talking to a shell of the person he knew.

“Okay, I’ll be going, then,” Akarui said, “Take care of yourself, big bro. Don’t work too hard.”

Kataomoi didn’t respond. He just stood there, staring at the gates. Akarui hesitated for a moment longer before turning and walking away, his usual swagger replaced by a more subdued pace. He glanced back once, but Kataomoi hadn’t moved. He was still standing there, like a statue, lost in his own thoughts.

As Akarui disappeared down the street, Kataomoi finally let out a long, shaky breath. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, but the weight of everything—his feelings for Ichiban, her sudden departure, his own helplessness—felt like it was crushing him. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to do anything to release the storm of emotions raging inside him. But he couldn’t. He just stood there, trapped in his own mind, unable to move forward.

"What am I even doing?" he thought, his chest tightening.

"I’m just standing here, useless as always. She’s out there dealing with something serious, and I’m… I’m just here. Doing nothing. Being nothing."

The thought made him sick to his stomach. He hated himself for it. Hated how weak he was, how powerless. But no matter how much he loathed himself, he couldn’t change the truth: he was just a security guard. And she? She was a world apart.