The atmosphere in the Shinozaki living room was a suffocating blend of expensive sandalwood and unspoken threats. Rentaro stood by the door, his presence a dark, sharp contrast to the cream-colored walls. He had refused to sit, acting more like a bodyguard than a classmate.
Rika’s father paced the length of the Persian rug. He hadn't touched the tea sitting on the glass table. "Rika, think logically. One 'misunderstanding' on your record means nothing for a girl working at a convenience store. But for Mio? A shoplifting charge is a death sentence for her career. If you take the fall, I will pay your tuition for any university in the country. No more 7-Eleven. No more 'Sunrise Heights.'"
The offer hung in the air like a poisoned lure. Rika looked at the floor. University. Security. A way out of the "dive" and back into the light. She looked at Mio, who was curled up in a velvet armchair, looking small and broken.
"I... I don't know," Rika whispered.
"I do," Rentaro’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
Rika’s father turned, his eyes flashing with disdain. "I don't believe I invited the 'help' to speak."
Rentaro didn't flinch. He walked over to Rika, ignoring her father entirely. "Shinozaki, look at me."
Rika raised her head. Rentaro’s eyes weren't cold; they were filled with a raw, jagged honesty she had never seen before.
"I didn't move cities because I wanted a 'quiet life,'" Rentaro said, his voice low enough only for her. "I moved because I did exactly what your father is asking you to do. Back at my old school, my 'best friend'—the star of the soccer team—got caught with something he shouldn't have had. I took the hit. I thought I was being a hero. I thought I was saving his future."
Rika’s breath hitched. "What happened?"
"He didn't thank me," Rentaro said, a bitter smile touching his lips. "He started the rumors that I was the 'troublemaker' to distance himself. The teachers stopped looking at me. The bullies realized I was an easy target because I had no one to defend me. I lost my reputation, my friends, and my sense of self. And him? He didn't change. He just got better at not getting caught."
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "If you do this for Mio, you aren't saving her. You're just teaching her that someone else will always pay the price for her mistakes. And you? You'll be the one living in the dark forever."
"Enough!" Rika’s father barked. "Rika, this is family business. This boy knows nothing of our world."
"He knows more about my world than you ever will," Rika snapped, her voice finally finding its strength. She looked at her father, seeing the desperation behind his pride. "Rentaro is right. If I take this for Mio, she’ll never learn. And I’ll never be able to look at myself in the mirror without seeing a lie."
She turned to her sister. "Mio, I love you. But I won't be your shield. You have to face the board. You have to tell the truth."
Mio let out a fresh sob, but for the first time, she looked at Rika—not with pity, but with a terrifying realization of her own weight.
"Get out," her father whispered, his face turning a deep, mottled red. "If you walk out that door without signing the statement... don't bother coming back for the finals. Don't bother coming back at all."
"I wasn't planning on it," Rika said.
She turned and walked toward the door. Rentaro followed her, his hand briefly resting on the small of her back—a steady, solid weight that kept her from collapsing.
As they stepped out into the night air, the silence was heavy. The "deal" was dead. The security was gone.
"Rentaro," Rika said as they reached his bike. "Why did you tell me that? About your old school?"
Rentaro put on his helmet, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "Because I don't want you to be a ghost, Rika. I’d rather have a rival who beats me fairly than a memory of a girl who gave up her soul for people who don't deserve it."
Rika didn't answer. She just leaned her forehead against his shoulder for a single, fleeting second. It wasn't a confession. It was an anchor.17Please respect copyright.PENANAl1UddtaEaN


