Chapter 33: “Reika Breaks”

Reika stared at the phone as if it were breathing.

Her fingers trembled around it. Her lips parted, then pressed together again. The room felt too small, the walls leaning in, the air thick with something sour and metallic.

“This is a lie,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction. It cracked at the edges. “Tell me it’s a lie.”

Rurika shook her head frantically. “Mama, please. I didn’t do anything. I swear. He just helped me. That’s all.”

Reika laughed.

It came out wrong. Too loud. Too sharp.

“Helped you?” she repeated. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

She stepped forward and grabbed Rurika’s arm.

Rurika cried out. “Mama, you’re hurting me.”

Reika’s grip tightened instead.

“Do you know what people would say?” Reika hissed. “Do you know what this looks like?”

Touko stood a little to the side, quiet as a shadow.

Rurika’s phone was still in her hands.

No one noticed when Touko tilted it slightly, her thumb moving with practiced ease. The screen shifted. A familiar interface appeared.

Live.

From Rurika Hanabusa’s account.

Touko lowered her gaze, lashes hiding her eyes, and held the phone steady.

Reika began pacing, dragging Rurika with her.

“I gave you everything,” she shouted. “Everything. Clothes, school, a good name. And this is how you repay me?”

Rurika stumbled, barely keeping her balance. “Mama, please let go. You’re scaring me.”

Reika stopped abruptly and turned.

Her face had changed.

Her eyes were too wide now, shining with something unmoored. Her breathing came in sharp bursts, chest heaving as if she were drowning on dry land.

“Scaring you?” she said. “You’re the one who should be scared.”

She shoved Rurika back. Rurika hit the table, pain shooting through her side.

Touko’s phone captured everything.

The shaking hands.

The raised voice.

The fear.

Reika pointed at her daughter, finger trembling. “Why do you shame me? Why do you ruin everything I touch?”

Rurika cried openly now. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. I just—”

Reika lunged again, grabbing Rurika by the hair this time.

Touko didn’t flinch.

The livestream comments began to appear, sliding up the screen like quiet witnesses.

Reika’s voice broke into something hysterical, words tumbling over each other without order.

“Do you know how hard I worked? Do you know how much I sacrificed? I built this life alone. Alone!”

She shook Rurika hard.

Rurika screamed. “Stop! Please stop! Mama!”

Reika didn’t hear her.

Her face twisted, tears spilling freely now, smearing her makeup, her composure dissolving completely.

“You smile at men,” she sobbed. “You look at them like you’re grown. You think you can take what’s mine?”

Touko adjusted her grip, making sure the image stayed clear.

Reika’s voice dropped suddenly, dangerously low.

“I should never have—”

Rurika’s eyes widened. “Mama…?”

Reika’s hand struck her across the face.

The sound echoed.

Rurika fell to the floor, stunned, ears ringing. She tried to crawl away, vision blurring, hands slipping against the polished wood.

Reika followed.

“You ruin everything,” Reika said, her voice trembling between rage and despair. “Everything I love. Everything I touch turns rotten because of you.”

Rurika’s breath came in shallow gasps. “Please… please…”

A neighbor’s voice shouted from outside. Someone was pounding on a wall. Another voice joined in, muffled but urgent.

Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.

Reika didn’t stop.

She knelt beside her daughter, gripping her shoulders too hard, shaking her again as if trying to rattle the truth out of her bones.

“I should never have given birth to you.”

The words landed heavier than the blows.

Rurika’s sob turned silent. Her body went slack, consciousness slipping away like a tide pulling back from shore.

Touko watched as Rurika’s eyes rolled back.

Only then did she lower the phone.

The livestream continued for several seconds more, capturing Reika frozen over her daughter, hands still gripping, face streaked with tears and terror.

Then Touko ended it.

She placed the phone gently on the table.

Sirens were close now. Red and blue lights flickered against the curtains, painting the room in restless colors.

Touko stepped back, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

Her expression was calm. Almost relieved.

When the door burst open and voices filled the house, Touko didn’t react.

She had already done what needed to be done.

And somewhere deep inside her, a quiet certainty settled.

Nothing would ever threaten Papa again.