Chapter 26: CHAPTER 25 - Akihiko's friend (4)
Ichiro had just arrived home, the familiar comfort of his courtyard within reach, when an unsettling feeling washed over him. Before he could even take a step inside his own sanctuary, an undeniable sense of being followed crept up his spine. His heart quickened, and his instincts screamed at him to be cautious. "I don't like this," he muttered to himself, the words escaping his lips in a hushed tone.
He stood still, the gravel of his courtyard crunching beneath his shoes as he hesitated to enter the safety of his home. Why, he wondered, was the person he had just tried so desperately to escape from now shadowing him even here?
Unbeknownst to Ichiro, right behind him stood Ryoma, a formidable figure with a quiet intensity. Ryoma's tall, well-balanced muscular frame exuded strength and purpose, but it was his sharp mind concealed behind his handsome ash-brown hair and framed by a pair of glasses that made him truly enigmatic. His presence was imposing, yet his expression was oddly serene.
"You seem to be in a hurry," Ryoma remarked, his voice calm and steady, as he locked his intense gaze onto Ichiro's back. As Ichiro slowly turned to face him, a chilling realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Ryoma had followed him the moment he had left his previous location.
Ichiro's pulse quickened, and his mind raced to understand why Ryoma, of all people, would pursue him. It was as if the past he had tried to put behind him had resurfaced with a vengeance, and the secrets he had buried deep within were now threatening to unravel.
Their eyes locked in a tense standoff, the courtyard serving as the battlefield for an unspoken confrontation. Ichiro's thoughts raced, and his palms grew sweaty, but he knew one thing for certain: whatever Ryoma wanted, it was bound to disrupt the fragile peace he had built for himself.
Ichiro's voice quivered as he addressed Ryoma, his words laced with fear that he could hardly contain. "Ryoma-sama," he stammered, using the most respectful honorific he could muster, all too aware of the consequences that hung in the balance.
However, to Ichiro's surprise, Ryoma showed no visible reaction to the fearful tone in his voice. He simply continued to observe Ichiro, his expression unchanging, as if he were an impassive sentinel. The silence that followed weighed heavily upon Ichiro, making him all the more anxious.
"What seems to be the problem?" Ichiro pressed on, the anxiety in his voice growing with each passing moment.
Ryoma responded with a mere, thoughtful hum, leaving Ichiro to wonder about his intentions. The uncertainty gnawed at him as he tried to fathom why Ryoma had sought him out.
Ichiro's mind raced, and then, a realization struck him like a bolt of clarity. "Ah, if this is about earlier," he blurted out, a hint of desperation in his voice, "I'll go apologize now." He thought that perhaps Ryoma had overheard the disrespectful words he had spoken about his parents, and now sought to teach him a harsh lesson.
But Ryoma's response was unexpected. He regarded Ichiro with an intense, serious look on his face and uttered a cryptic statement. "You've changed."
Ichiro furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to grasp the significance of Ryoma's words. He couldn't discern any overt transformation in himself, nor could he pinpoint what Ryoma was alluding to. There was an undeniable air of mystery surrounding Ryoma's presence and his cryptic remarks, leaving Ichiro both perplexed and increasingly apprehensive.
"Changed?" Ichiro repeated, his voice trembling with uncertainty as he awaited an explanation that seemed elusive in the enigmatic gaze of Ryoma.
"Let's find out then," Ryoma said with a chilling calmness, his tone devoid of any hesitation. With a deliberate motion, he removed his glasses and tucked them away, as though preparing for what was to come.
Ichiro's heart raced as he watched Ryoma's actions. The feeling of impending dread intensified, and he began to utter Ryoma's name in a desperate plea. "Ryo-" But his words were abruptly cut off as a sudden and brutal blow struck his stomach, driving the air from his lungs. The force of the punch sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his body.
To Ichiro's surprise, as he gasped for breath and doubled over in pain, Ryoma appeared genuinely impressed. There was a flicker of curiosity in Ryoma's eyes, a hint that perhaps what he had suspected held some truth.
"Impressive," Ryoma stated, his voice maintaining its stoic demeanor. He followed up his words with a swift kick that sent Ichiro sprawling to the side, the momentum of the impact propelling him like a ragdoll across the courtyard.
Ichiro landed with a sickening thud, the force of the kick leaving him badly wounded. His body convulsed in agony, and the pain was so excruciating that he couldn't contain it any longer. He coughed and sputtered, blood pouring from his mouth in a gruesome display.
-WARNING: Severe blood loss detected.-
It was a stark reminder of the dire situation he now found himself in. But as he lay there, struggling to breathe and overwhelmed by the pain, he couldn't make sense of why Ryoma was subjecting him to this brutal assault.
"What is he thinking?" Ichiro thought to himself, his mind clouded by pain and confusion. He wondered why Ryoma was beating him so mercilessly, and what secrets or suspicions had driven him to such violence. The answers remained elusive, hidden behind Ryoma's enigmatic demeanor, leaving Ichiro in a desperate struggle for both his survival and his understanding.
As Ichiro writhed in pain on the ground, clutching his aching stomach, Ryoma's voice cut through the agony like a sharp blade. "You have indeed changed," he remarked, his tone less harsh than before but still filled with curiosity. "Tell me, who trained you?"
Ichiro's bewildered gaze met Ryoma's, his mind struggling to process the sudden line of questioning. "What?" he stammered, his voice quivering with confusion and pain.
Ryoma's patience waned, irritation evident on his face as he grew increasingly frustrated with Ichiro's lack of direct answers. Without warning, he delivered another kick to Ichiro's already battered stomach, the force of it sending Ichiro sliding several feet away. The pain was excruciating, and Ichiro felt as though his body had been mercilessly pummeled.
Gasping for breath and struggling to regain his composure, Ichiro finally comprehended Ryoma's intent. "Who is it?" Ryoma demanded angrily, his frustration mounting. He couldn't fathom how Ichiro had undergone such a transformation without the family's knowledge.
Ichiro's eyes met Ryoma's with newfound determination. He understood the gravity of the situation and realized that he couldn't keep secrets any longer. Summoning all his strength, he looked Ryoma squarely in the eyes and spoke the truth, his voice unwavering despite the pain. "I don't know what you're talking about."
But Ryoma was not satisfied with Ichiro's response. His intuition told him that there was more to the story than Ichiro was willing to divulge. A sense of unease settled upon him, driving him to probe deeper. "Not saying, eh," he muttered with a glint of determination, determined to uncover the mysterious truth that seemed to elude him.
Ryoma's anger continued to escalate as Ichiro's defiance persisted. Blow after merciless blow rained down upon Ichiro, his body becoming a canvas of red and blue bruises. The pain was excruciating, but Ichiro refused to yield to Ryoma's relentless assault.
Amidst the brutal beating, Ryoma's thoughts swirled with frustration. He had not anticipated that all the rumors circulating within the household during his absence would prove to be true. His parents had complained bitterly about Ichiro's disrespectful behavior, a fact that had initially left Ryoma indifferent. However, witnessing Ichiro's defiant spirit firsthand was a different matter altogether, and it irritated him to no end.
With Ichiro now battered and bruised, Ryoma paused for a moment in his assault. He could sense that his actions had taken a toll on Ichiro's physical strength, and he decided to pose a question amidst the chaos.
"When did it all start?" Ryoma asked, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and curiosity.
Ichiro, still gasping for breath and barely able to muster the strength to respond, questioned with genuine confusion, "What? Start what?"
"The training," Ryoma clarified.
Ichiro's response was a weak and bewildered, "What?"
Ryoma sighed, growing increasingly annoyed with the fruitless interrogation. It was clear that Ichiro was in no condition to provide meaningful answers. What frustrated Ryoma even more was the realization that, despite the relentless beating, Ichiro showed no signs of fighting back. What's more, his body made no effort to shield itself or protect against the onslaught. It was a telltale sign that Ichiro lacked any magical abilities.
"What a waste," Ryoma thought to himself, his anger giving way to a sense of resignation. He considered the possibility that Ichiro's transformation had occurred due to the extraordinary circumstances of his return to life, perhaps granting him newfound physical strength. However, the absence of magical abilities meant that the truth remained elusive, and Ryoma was left to grapple with the enigmatic puzzle that Ichiro had become.
As Ryoma stood over the battered and bruised Ichiro, a dawning realization swept over him. The thing he had been so worried about, the reason for his relentless pursuit, had never actually transpired. It became evident that Ichiro was not the threat he had feared, nor did he possess the magical prowess that had haunted his thoughts.
With an air of detachment, Ryoma calmly retrieved his glasses, sliding them back onto his face. His expression remained stoic, and he displayed no signs of remorse or concern for Ichiro's pitiable state. In the grand scheme of things, Ichiro was nothing more than a distant relative, a bastard child of the family with an uncertain lineage.
Ryoma's final words cut through the tense silence that hung between them. "Don't you dare act like that in front of my parents again," he warned, his tone stern and final. With that, he turned and began making his way back to the main mansion, leaving Ichiro behind in the courtyard.
Ichiro, battered and bloodied, lay on the ground, his vision blurred and his body drained of strength. However, despite the pain and suffering he had endured, a triumphant smile gradually spread across his face. He had survived the brutal onslaught, emerging from the confrontation with his life intact.
Summoning the last reserves of his energy, Ichiro mustered the strength to slowly drag himself inside the house. His body felt like lead, and exhaustion washed over him in waves. Collapsing onto the floor, he lay there, a battered but resilient figure, grateful for the chance to live another day, his smile of victory never fading, even as darkness closed in around him.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone