PUTTING a bit of distance between myself and Nonoka, I plopped myself down on a lobby bench. Just as I sighed, lamenting the utter positive mental attitude of this girl, I noticed a shadow creep over me.
“Why the long face, Little Miss Tsundere?”
Startled, I looked up, and was promptly startled again to find Ruki standing over me. But I quickly composed myself and fell back into my role. “Mr. Ruki, while I appreciate your attempt at humor, I assure you, I am anything but a tsundere.”
Ruki’s expression shifted, like he’d heard something interesting. “You didn’t know we all knew?”
“Don’t tell me you honestly buy into the drivel that spews out of that girl’s mouth?”
“Drivel? Not at all. I believe her, not because I take her word for it, but because I trust my own judgment. I’d known it ever since you covered for her at the mixer.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”
Just like the time with Rikka, this was a game of he-said, she-said. Ruki had no proof, just his intuition, like I had mine. Deny, deny, deny, and all would be fine—or so I had thought.
Ruki snorted. “That act of yours might fool someone who didn’t see your expression that night.”
“My expression?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, and this imbalance of information unsettled me.
“So, you really had no idea…” he mused aloud, then smiled. “That night, when you stepped in as the antagonist to spare me from a confrontation with Riku and Nonoka, you gave quite the performance with your words, but your face—you looked so guilty you might as well have burst into tears right then and there.”
“Nonsense!”
“Nonsense? Or simply the truth? Why else do you think Riku and I have buried the hatchet? It’s the same reason Nonoka believes in you. I’m afraid only a fool could have looked at your expression that night and failed to grasp your true intentions.”
Words failed to describe the storm of emotions I was feeling in that moment. I’d been nothing but hostile to everyone, but both Nonoka and now Ruki had seen through to my real intentions. I was surrounded by such insightful, wonderful people, and it was impossible not to feel a glimmer of happiness at being so deeply understood. In a different world, under different circumstances, I might have even fallen for Ruki. But in this narrative, I was the villainess. My path was predestined to culminate in a dramatic confrontation with Ruki and the others in three years. My demise was necessary, a key to saving Shizuku and a trigger to propel the game to its good ending. They could trust me now, but they couldn’t trust me forever. And the more they believed in me now, the more devastating the eventual betrayal would have to be. Just thinking about it caused a deep ache in my chest.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a notification from Shizuki’s app—an update with a new mission for the villainess. No doubt Shannon had been watching me, perhaps sending me a subtle reminder of my duty. I appreciated it, but it wasn’t necessary. I knew better than anyone what was truly at stake. This thorny path I walked was one of my own choosing.
Standing up from the bench, I straightened myself, but even then, I had to look up slightly to meet Ruki’s eyes. “Why don’t you just say what you’re thinking? You believe I’m playing the part of a villain, don’t you?”
“I do. I just can’t fathom why,” he replied.
“Oh, but you won’t need to fathom it. Just when the time comes, Mr. Ruki, do what’s necessary. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
I left him with these words, turning away. Whether he completely understood my charade was irrelevant. The crucial point was his actions at the decisive moment. He needed to pursue his own happy ending, even if it meant leaving me to my downfall. My only wish was for him to fulfill his role, that he could set his emotions aside to deliver the justice I deserved.
As I walked away, I allowed my hair to flow dramatically behind me, slipping seamlessly back into the villainess persona that had become my second skin.
“Now then, let’s get to villainessin’, shall we?”