บท 12: Noguchi Minako 1
"Goddamn. That felt good but I also feel like shit," I muttered as I got into my car and drove off.
It was a strange sensation that I couldn't really explain to you in a way other than that it felt like two minds, two ideals, two different sets of morals were clashing while simultaneously working together as a single unit.
Even though I was late to my appointment, I returned back to campus and walked into the office anyway as if I owned the place.
It wasn't like they would stop me; they feared my family name far too much to reprimand me for such a "trivial" act.
I met with the person I had intended to meet, delaying their appointment with another student by a few minutes, and once the paperwork was signed, I was done.
I was out.
It didn't even take long because while the person I was speaking to was saying words like, "Oh... are you sure you want to leave?" and "Is there anything that we can do to make you stay?" — the look on their face was one of relief.
It felt like just the thought of me quitting their college was going to make them turn a decade younger and their grey hair would all turn black.
Within half an hour, I received hundreds of texts from my classmates and so-called "friends" asking about the rumor that I had dropped out of college.
Was it true? That's what all of them were wondering.
I guess the student whose appointment I delayed had either overheard or eavesdropped on the conversation and shared it around.
Not that I minded.
This was for the better anyway because it would finally put those losers I'd been bullying at ease.
Don't worry, boys.
This bully will be out of your hands.
Enjoy the rest of your years at the college. Make friends, strengthen your relationship with your girlfriends (for those who didn't break up with them once finding out they were cheating), and live out your youth without fear.
It wasn't exactly Christmas yet but it might as well have been my early Christmas gift to all of them.
Call me Santa Claus.
"Should I take a trip home?" I pondered.
My family didn't live in the same city as me however, they were only the next city over so the trip to them wouldn't take that long.
'Mother has been begging for me to have dinner at home for quite some time now.'
It felt so natural calling her Mother.
"I should probably be a filial child and explain my decision to my parents," I concluded as I got into my car and began driving off.
With how doting of a mother I had and how much cleaning up my father had to do for me, I assumed that they were already aware of my decision.
They probably have a few spies at the college, students or professors — maybe both.
The memories of Yasuo (which included muscle memory) felt so naturally mine that I drove all the way back to my family home without needing the GPS once as if I had been living in that mansion myself all these years.
At the gate, they opened up immediately without even needing to confirm my identity.
Who else would be driving the car tI was driving other than me?
"Welcome back, young master," the head butler greeted me as I got out of my car. I handed the keys to my car over to another butler who was going to park it in the garage.
'Butlers and maids. This almost feels like another world. A world that I'm now a part of,' I chuckled internally as I stepped through the front door.
Immediately, I was greeted by my mother who wrapped her arms around me.
"Welcome home, son."
"Thank you. Good to be home," I responded.
Yasuo was a funny person. Even though he ignored his mother's request and treated his parents as if they didn't exist when he was off at college, he was actually a loving person to his parents.
When I spoke to my mother with love and respect, the clog that would appear in my throat when I acted too out of character didn't appear.
"What took you so long to visit your poor mother once in a while?" she asked me, her eyebrows burrowing.
"Sorry sorry. I've been busy," I responded. That answer was a lie while all the same time — it also wasn't.
Yasuo has been pretty busy since he began living by himself. Except he was busy doing the wrong things.
These are things that I knew my parents were definitely aware of.
The fact they hadn't scolded me or punished me was a sign that although they were good parents, they probably weren't good people. But how does one get rich if they don't have a black heart?
I couldn't judge them too harshly. After all, I was their one and only son.
"So, why are you home then?" my mother asked, feigning innocence.
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