Chapter 18: “The Wrong Place, The Wrong Man”

The station was louder than usual that evening.

Trains screeched against metal.

Announcements echoed overhead.

A crowd spilled through the gates, pressing forward in one restless wave.

Rurika blended into the stream of people with her phone in hand, thumb tapping hard against the screen as she typed her frustrations into a half-finished note.

> “The rumor didn’t work. Touko didn’t even flinch.

I need something bigger. Something she can’t smile through.”

She paused, deleted the line, then typed again.

> “Perfect girls always have a flaw. I just need to find it.”

Three steps later she rewrote it once more.

Her irritation was a knot in her chest that wouldn’t come undone. The picture she leaked—Touko holding onto that older man’s arm like some cute wife—should have destroyed her. It should have been enough to shake her perfect little world.

But it didn’t.

Touko smiled.

Touko explained.

Touko walked away untouched.

Meanwhile Rurika felt as if she was being eaten alive from the inside.

The floor beneath her vibrated as another train thundered in. The scent of rain-soaked clothing drifted past her. A child cried in the distance. A station worker blew his whistle, trying to guide people toward the right exit.

Rurika barely heard any of it. Her head was full.

Touko.

Touko.

Touko.

She hated how her mind kept circling back to that girl.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. A notification from the school gossip page lit up her screen:

> “Whoever posted that pic was lying. She literally said it’s her dad.

Stop spreading crap.”

Rurika’s jaw tightened. She locked her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and pushed through the crowd with her bag over her shoulder.

She needed air.

Or space.

Or something that didn’t remind her of Touko.

The far end of the platform looked quieter, so she walked there without thinking. She stood near the yellow line, rubbing her temple. The cold air brushing her cheeks helped, but not enough to settle her thoughts.

That was when she noticed him.

A man in his early thirties.

Unshaven. Tired eyes.

Old jacket, sleeves rolled up hastily.

He stood behind her, pretending to check the train schedule.

Rurika didn’t think much of it. Men stood everywhere in stations. She had gotten used to ignoring them.

She took out her phone again and typed another note.

> “Maybe I should expose Touko in class. Maybe I should—”

A presence stepped closer behind her.

She ignored it. She was used to crowded places.

But then—

Another step.

Too close.

The hairs on her neck rose.

Her breath slowed.

She glanced sideways, pretending not to look at him directly.

The man wasn’t checking the schedule anymore.

He was staring at her reflection in the station glass.

Right at her face.

Rurika stiffened.

Maybe it was coincidence.

Maybe he was just spaced out.

Maybe she was imagining things.

Her irritation from earlier made everything feel sharper.

She shifted a step to the left.

The man matched her, subtle but deliberate.

Rurika’s stomach dipped.

She kept her face neutral and pretended to fix her bag.

He leaned a little closer.

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t stand alone,” he murmured.

Rurika froze.

Her heart thudded once, slow and heavy.

She didn’t turn toward him. She just stared at the tracks.

“Sorry?” she said flatly.

“You heard me.” His voice was too friendly in a way that made her skin crawl. “You waiting for someone?”

She clicked her tongue and stepped forward. “Leave me alone.”

He chuckled, following again.

She moved faster.

He followed faster.

Rurika’s irritation cracked, and unease spilled out. She didn’t want trouble. She didn’t want attention from strangers. She only wanted to go home and plan how to destroy Touko’s calm little life.

This was wrong.

Too close.

Too intentional.

She looked around. The platform was full, but everyone was absorbed in their own world—looking at phones, talking with friends, rushing toward the escalator.

No one watched her.

She tried again, voice lower.

“Don’t follow me.”

The man slipped in front of her and blocked her path with one arm.

“Come on. I’m just being friendly.”

Her chest tightened. Memories she didn’t like to think about flickered across her mind—nightmares of that man from her old school, the one who used to wait outside the gate and whisper disgusting compliments at her. The reason she moved schools. The reason her mother cried for months.

“No,” she snapped. “You’re being creepy.”

His expression shifted.

For a moment there was a flash of irritation, then it softened into something worse—calm, confident, like he enjoyed her fear.

“Why don’t you smile? Girls like you look cute when they smile.”

Rurika tried to step around him. He gripped her wrist.

Not hard.

Not enough to bruise.

But enough to stop her.

Her pulse jumped. Her breath slipped. For a second, anger battled with fear.

“Let go,” she hissed.

He leaned down, breath sour. “I just want your number.”

Rurika tugged her hand. His grip tightened.

Someone glanced their way—but only for a moment—then continued walking. Just another case of people minding their business too hard.

The man’s fingers trailed up her arm, casual and wrong.

“Come on. I’ll treat you well. No need to be shy.”

Her throat tightened.

Her heart raced.

Her legs felt unsteady.

That familiar panic from her past rose like ice water in her chest.

Not again.

Not again.

Not again.

She tried to yank her arm free. “I said let go!”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He smiled, stepping closer. “Tell me your name first.”

Then—

A voice.

Calm. Clear. Unshaken.

“Let go of her.”

The man’s hand loosened for a second, surprised by the interruption.

Rurika turned her head.

A tall man stood beside them, about mid-twenties, black hair slightly messy from work, holding a shopping bag. He looked quiet, steady, almost peaceful despite the situation.

He wasn’t glaring.

He wasn’t shouting.

He simply looked at them with a straightforward expression.

The harasser frowned. “Who are you?”

The newcomer didn’t answer that. Instead, he met the man’s eyes and repeated, “Let go.”

His voice wasn’t loud.

But something about it felt firm enough to cut through the noise of the station.

Rurika held her breath.

The man scoffed and released her wrist, stepping back. “She your girlfriend or something?”

“No,” the newcomer said. “She’s a high school girl who said no.”

The man clicked his tongue and backed away, muttering as he disappeared into the crowd.

Rurika’s knees nearly buckled from relief.

The stranger finally turned to her.

“Are you alright?”

His tone wasn’t condescending. Not overly polite. Just steady. Human.

Rurika swallowed and looked at him properly.

That face.

She had seen him before.

In the photo.

The one she used to expose Touko.

The man Touko held onto like he belonged to her.

Her stepfather.

Kei Nishima.

He didn’t recognize her.

Not even a flicker of recognition.

Rurika’s heart pounded, but not from fear this time.

Something twisted inside her—something sharp, confusing, and strangely warm.

He saved her.

And he had no idea who she was.

He just helped because she needed it.

Rurika straightened her posture, brushed her skirt, and spoke softly.

“…Thank you.”

Kei nodded once. “Be careful around here. Some people take advantage of crowds.”

She stared at him longer than she meant to.

He was calm.

Kind.

Grounded in a way that made her chest tighten.

No wonder Touko clung to him like that.

Rurika lowered her eyes, a strange thought creeping into her mind—

If Touko had someone like him…

Why should she?

Kei checked his watch. “I need to head home. Will you be alright?”

Rurika nodded again, voice smaller. “Yes. I will.”

He gave her a gentle nod before walking away toward the exit, disappearing into the wave of passengers.

Rurika watched him until he was gone.

Her pulse wouldn’t settle.

Not from fear.

From something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

She touched the spot on her wrist where he saved her.

And for the first time…

She wondered what it would feel like

to take something precious from Touko Nishima.