Chapter 14: “Asuka’s Past, Reiji’s Rage”

The morning was supposed to be normal.

Key word: supposed to.

I was halfway through my usual routine of pretending to pay attention in class when I noticed something odd—Asuka-sensei wasn’t smiling as much today. Sure, she still greeted everyone, still handed out assignments, but there was a stiffness in her shoulders.

I told myself it was none of my business. After all, I was just the “problem kid” she’d somehow decided was worth fixing.

But then lunch break came.

I was on my way back from the vending machine when I spotted her in the hallway, talking to a man I’d never seen before. He was tall, dressed in that smug “I work in an office and think I’m better than you” kind of way.

I slowed my pace, leaning just enough around the corner to catch their voices.

> “Still here, huh?” he said, his tone laced with mockery. “Teaching at some small school in the middle of nowhere? Guess that’s all you could manage after… well, you know.”

Asuka stiffened. “That’s not your concern, Mr. Takeda.”

Takeda. I already hated the guy.

He chuckled. “Oh, come on. I heard about you. Single mother, working two jobs, barely scraping by. Thought you’d at least marry someone respectable the second time around, but I guess no one wants—”

I didn’t remember moving, but suddenly I was right there, standing between him and her.

“Got something stuck in your throat, old man?” I said flatly. “Because I can help with that. My fist works wonders.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting some student to step in. “Who the hell are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t like hearing garbage in the hallway.”

His smirk returned, but weaker this time. “You kids think you’re tough. You don’t know anything.”

I stepped forward. He stepped back. “You’re right,” I said, my voice low. “I don’t know much. But I know you’re about three seconds away from eating the floor tiles.”

“Reiji,” Asuka said sharply behind me.

I didn’t punch him. I really wanted to, but her voice cut through my temper just enough to make me clench my fists and step aside.

Takeda gave a sneer that was more nervous than smug now and muttered something under his breath before walking off.

The whole hallway was silent after that.

---

That night, I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head.

I was at her place again—apparently “helping with Yume’s homework” (translation: Yume had insisted I come over for dinner and somehow I didn’t say no). Yume was already asleep, curled up in her blanket.

Asuka was in the kitchen, washing dishes. Her movements were slower than usual.

I hovered awkwardly in the doorway. “You should’ve let me hit him.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Violence doesn’t solve everything.”

“It would’ve solved him,” I muttered.

Her hands stopped moving. She stared down at the soapy water for a long moment before speaking again.

“You heard what he said.”

“Yeah,” I said. “And I wanted to break his teeth for it.”

There was a shaky laugh—more sad than amused. “It’s fine, Reiji. I’m used to it.”

That made something twist in my chest. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

She set the plate down and turned, leaning against the counter. The kitchen light cast shadows on her face, making her eyes seem deeper.

“I met him when I was working at my old school,” she said quietly. “He was a colleague. Back then, I still thought I could… rebuild my life. But people like him—they don’t forget. Or forgive.”

I frowned. “Forgive what? Being a good teacher?”

Her gaze wavered, and she looked down. “Reiji… you’ve probably figured it out already. Yume’s father… left before she was even born. He didn’t want the responsibility. My parents told me to… just marry anyone else quickly, for appearances. I refused. So I raised her alone.”

Her voice cracked slightly.

“People whisper things. That I’m desperate. That I’m easy. That I’m weak because I’m a single mother. And no matter how hard I work, there’s always someone ready to remind me of it.”

I didn’t say anything right away. I just… listened. For once in my life, my brain didn’t jump to some sarcastic comment.

Finally, I spoke. “You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know.”

She froze, looking up at me like she wasn’t sure she heard right.

I took a step closer. “You work all day, raise Yume, put up with idiots like him—and you still smile. If that’s weakness, then everyone else must be made of paper.”

Her lips parted slightly. There was something in her eyes—something I couldn’t name but felt like it could swallow me whole.

I realized then how close we were. Her hand was still damp from the dishwater, and I could see a drop of water roll from her wrist to her fingers.

For one terrifying, exhilarating second, I thought about taking that last step, about closing the distance.

She must have thought the same, because her gaze flicked to my mouth.

My heart was pounding loud enough that I was sure she could hear it.

But then…

She stepped back. “You should… get going. It’s late.”

The warmth between us snapped like a rubber band.

“Right,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

I left without looking back, because I knew if I did, I’d turn around and make the biggest mistake of my life—or the best decision. I wasn’t ready to find out which.