Chapter 16 : “The Anonymous Post”

Rurika kept staring at the picture on her phone.

Touko Nishima, the perfect girl who stole every spotlight without even trying, was wrapped around the arm of an older man at the market. Touko’s smile looked soft. Her grip looked intimate. The man’s hand rested near hers like they belonged together.

Rurika didn’t know who he was.

She never saw him at school events.

She never heard Touko mention him.

But it didn’t matter.

Touko looked too happy in the photo.

Too close to someone.

Too untouchable.

Something bitter twisted in Rurika’s stomach.

She zoomed in.

Touko’s head leaned toward the man’s shoulder.

Their shadows merged on the street behind them, like husband and wife.

Rurika’s jaw tightened.

Perfect Touko.

Silent Touko.

Flawless Touko.

Everyone loved her.

Teachers praised her.

Boys admired her.

Even mothers looked at her with longing.

It wasn’t fair.

Rurika’s thumb hovered above the “upload” button.

Her heart raced with a thrill she felt guilty enjoying.

She switched to her anonymous account—one she kept just for moments like this.

One tap.

One upload.

And one quiet caption:

> “The perfect girl has a secret.”

No hashtags.

No name.

Just enough to ignite a fire.

She hit “post.”

And as the screen refreshed, a sharp satisfaction slid through her chest.

---

By the next morning, the school was buzzing.

The hallways pulsed with whispers the moment Rurika stepped inside. Students huddled in groups, hiding their faces behind phones. Even the usually calm second-years looked stirred up.

Rurika walked slowly, pretending she didn’t know anything.

But the glances people gave her—quick, guilty, curious—made her smirk inside.

She passed a group of boys crowding around a screen.

“That guy’s gotta be in his thirties.”

“She’s really doing that behind everyone’s back?”

“Look at how close she’s holding him.”

“Man… I didn’t think she was that type.”

A cluster of girls whispered near the shoe lockers.

“She’s so perfect. Maybe that’s how she gets everything.”

“I feel fooled.”

“She looks expensive…”

“Oh my god, don’t say that out loud.”

Rurika hid her smile behind her hand.

It was working.

Touko’s glass-perfect image was cracking.

She walked into the classroom before her, just to watch Touko’s face when she saw the damage.

But Touko wasn’t there yet.

---

When Touko finally arrived, her steps were light as always.

Uniform neat.

Hair smooth.

Expression calm.

She slid open the classroom door gently, bowed her head, and said, “Good morning.”

No one answered.

Half the class had their eyes glued to their screens.

The rest peeked at her with a mix of curiosity and judgment.

Touko blinked once, the way she did when she sensed something was different.

She set her bag down.

Arranged her pens.

Straightened her skirt.

Then she looked at the group crowding around a phone near the window.

Touko tilted her head.

“What happened?”

Himari rushed over, cheeks pale.

“Touko… someone posted a picture of you. With a man.”

Touko didn’t look scared.

Or surprised.

Just thoughtful.

“May I see it?”

Himari hesitated but handed her the phone.

Touko held it delicately, like the screen might break under pressure.

Her eyes scanned the photo calmly.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then a soft smile curved across her lips.

“Ah,” she said quietly. “That’s my papa.”

The room froze.

Someone near the back stammered, “Your… papa? But he looks—”

Touko nodded. “He’s my stepfather. Kei Nishima. He’s very kind.”

She handed the phone back to Himari and smoothed her bangs as if nothing unusual had happened.

The gossip died instantly.

Students who had been whispering now looked embarrassed.

Others avoided Touko’s gaze.

A few muttered apologies under their breath.

Touko bowed slightly.

“I’m sorry if the photo confused anyone.”

Her tone was gentle.

Warm.

Completely sincere.

Which only made it worse.

Rurika’s throat tightened.

Where was the panic?

Where was the shame?

Where was the reaction she had been waiting for?

Touko wasn’t shaken.

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t hurt.

She smiled.

And somehow, that smile felt like a blade sliding quietly under Rurika’s skin.

---

During break, the class started repairing the damage on its own.

“Damn, we really misunderstood…”

“She didn’t deserve that.”

“She must feel awful.”

“But she doesn’t look upset at all.”

Touko sat at her desk, eating her lunch neatly.

Not a single tremor.

Her hands steady.

Her breathing calm.

Himari sat beside her, guilt in her eyes.

“Are you really okay?”

Touko nodded pleasantly.

“There’s nothing to be upset about. Rumors only hurt when they’re true.”

Rurika heard that sentence from across the room.

She flinched.

Touko didn’t look at her.

Didn’t mention her.

Didn’t accuse her.

But the message was clear.

I know.

Later, Touko stood up to throw her trash away.

Her eyes passed over Rurika for a brief second.

Barely a glance.

But something in that look made Rurika’s heart skip.

Not anger.

Not annoyance.

Something colder.

Like Touko had already weighed her, measured her, judged her… and found her small.

Rurika clenched her fists.

Touko wasn’t supposed to win this easily.

She wasn’t supposed to smile.

She wasn’t supposed to stay perfect.

But she had.

And Rurika felt herself shrinking under the shadow of a girl who could ruin people without lifting a finger.

---

After school, Touko walked past Rurika in the hallway.

Just once, she paused.

Her voice calm, barely above a whisper.

“Thank you for the photo.”

Rurika froze.

Touko didn’t turn back.

She didn’t explain.

She just kept walking, her steps soft and steady, like she was memorizing the rhythm of Rurika’s fear.

And for the first time, Rurika understood something:

Touko wasn’t just perfect.

She was dangerous.