Chapter 35: The Shape of What Was Taken || Ubawareta Mono no Katachi

  Shunsuke’s apartment, Roppongi → October 31st, 2022

  “Cruelty rarely stands alone. It repeats, refines, and learns.”

  Miyu leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Shunsuke’s temple, her scent acting as a brief sanctuary. Sensing the shift in the room, Kuro hopped down from Misaki’s lap and padded over to Shunsuke, nudging his leg with a persistent, cold nose. Shunsuke sat up slowly, his movements stiff, and scooped the raccoon into his arms.

  “My little fluffy prince,” he murmured into Kuro’s fur, the animal’s steady heartbeat helping to regulate his own. He looked at Ryuichi and gave a single, sharp nod. He remained anchored between the two: leaning against Miyu’s shoulder while holding Kuro tightly to his chest.

  “Can I stay... like this?” Shunsuke asked, his eyes pleading for a shred of comfort in the middle of this cold procedure.

  Ryuichi’s expression was infinitely gentle. “Of course. Stay however you’re most comfortable, Nii-san.” He took a breath, resetting his professional mask, and tapped the screen. The red light began to pulse. “I am beginning the testimony of Shunsuke Kawamura. Twenty-five years old, born October 28th in Tokyo.”

  Shunsuke nodded at the phone, his grip on Kuro tightening.

  “Shunsuke, as with Misaki, you have the right to remain silent to avoid family conflict,” Ryuichi said, his voice regaining its clinical precision. “However, if you choose to proceed, it must be the absolute truth. Furthermore, given your public status as the heir and a known figure in the business world, I must ask: do you wish for this testimony to remain anonymous within the legal filings, or are you prepared for your name to be attached to the case?”

  Shunsuke’s gaze lingered on Miyu. He saw the flicker of understanding in her eyes—the realization that if his name was attached to this horror, his career as a high-fashion model was over. The clean, polished image of the "Prince of the Runway" would be replaced by the reality of a survivor in the middle of a Yakuza blood-feud. And because Miyu had been sighted with him as "Shion," her public life would be forever tied to this scandal as well.

  “What happens if the file stays anonymous?” Shunsuke asked, his voice trembling but curious.

  “Your name is omitted,” Ryuichi explained, his tone strictly professional yet tinged with a warning. “The facts remain—the host club history, the physical evidence—but no names. The problem, Shunsuke, is that anyone who knows your history could still put the pieces together. And legally? An anonymous accusation carries a fraction of the weight of a named one."

  Ryuichi leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Shunsuke’s. “It is your call, Shunsuke. Do you want to hide, or do you want to hit back?”

  Shunsuke took a deep, jagged breath. He looked down at Kuro, then at the ring on Miyu’s finger. He felt the weight of the crown descending.

  “You’re allowed to attach my name to the case,” Shunsuke said, his voice dropping an octave, gaining a cold, hard edge that even Ryuichi hadn't heard before. “I’m done running away. If the world has to see the scars to see who Tsukasa really is, then let them look.”

  Ryuichi nodded. "Then if you're ready Shunsuke, tell me about your relationship to your older brother"

  Shunsuke’s voice was hollow, echoing the emptiness of a childhood spent in a house that felt like a cage. "I'm the youngest child," he began, his fingers disappearing into Kuro’s thick fur. "Because I was always... kind, open-hearted... my parents despised me. They told me I was a disgrace, a weak link in the bloodline. But outside those walls, it was different. People avoided Tsukasa like a plague, while I was always surrounded by friends. That made him deeply jealous. He couldn't stand that I had what he could never take by force: genuine affection."

  He pulled Kuro closer, the raccoon’s weight a physical anchor. "When I was five, he started to beat me. He was calculated, even then. He only hit me where the clothes would hide the bruises. My parents knew. I went to them crying, showing them what he’d done, but they never intervened. They called it 'normal' between brothers. They told me I was too soft, and that I needed to 'toughen up' if I was ever going to carry the Kawamura name."

  Shunsuke let out a jagged breath. "So I learned to stop crying. I learned that in our house, pain was just a lesson I hadn't mastered yet."

  “The older I got, the worse the beatings became. Eventually, they weren't just outbursts... they were literal torture sessions,” Shunsuke said, his voice as brittle as dry glass. He pulled Kuro closer, seeking the rhythmic warmth of the animal's breathing. “He started dragging me into the Gumi's torture rooms. There was one night... I nearly died. If Ryuichi hadn't found me and gotten me to the hospital, I wouldn't be sitting here.”

  Ryuichi’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. He remembered that night with terrifying clarity—the smell of copper and cold concrete, the sight of his brother looking more like a broken doll than a boy.

  “I don’t really remember that night,” Shunsuke sighed, his eyes distant as if looking at a fog. “I’m sorry, Ryuichi. I know it’s not helpful for the case.”

  Ryuichi shook his head, his voice strained but infinitely patient. “No need to apologize, Nii-san. Memory loss is a natural defense against that level of trauma. Just tell me what you do remember, even if it’s fragmented. Every image, every word spoken—it all matters.”

  Shunsuke nodded, his knuckles white as he gripped Kuro. "When I was fifteen... like Misaki said... I went into her room because I wanted to show her something. A drawing, maybe? I don’t remember." He took a jagged breath. "I found Tsukasa in there. He was hurting her. I didn't fully understand what was happening—only that my sister was in pain. I tried to pull him away, I screamed at him, but I couldn't move him. I wasn't strong enough to protect her."

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  His voice began to fray, the shaking in his hands transferring to the raccoon in his lap. "I ran. I wanted to find help, find our parents, anyone. It was raining... the garden was slick. Tsukasa followed me out there. He caught me by the koi pond."

  Shunsuke’s voice broke completely, a small, wounded sound. "He told me that I... that I wanted it. He pointed to my body's reaction—something I couldn't control because I was terrified and confused. He used my own biology to make me feel like the monster."

  He squeezed his eyes shut. "After that night... it became a routine. He shifted his focus from Misaki to me. Every time he came to my room, I told myself it was okay. As long as he was with me, he wasn't with her. I could finally protect her, even if it was just by being his target."

  “It... it really escalated when Tsukasa found out about my relationship with Ren,” Shunsuke said, his voice paper-thin and vibrating with a terrifying intensity. “He wouldn’t let it be. He made these... crude, sick comments... asking me who was better, him or Ren...”

  Miyu’s fingers flew to Shunsuke’s wrist. Under the skin, his pulse was a frantic, irregular drum—a tachycardia born of pure, unadulterated panic. She looked up at Ryuichi, her eyes wide with alarm, and gave a sharp, definitive shake of her head.

  Ryuichi didn't need a second signal. He could see the grey tint to Shunsuke's complexion.

  “We’re taking a break right here, Shunsuke,” Ryuichi said, his voice dropping into a firm, grounding register that brooked no argument. “I know there is more. I know the timeline isn't finished. But we can do the rest tomorrow, or next week. I am not going to let you suffer more than you need to for a case file.”

  Ryuichi reached out and tapped the screen of his phone, ending the recording. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by Shunsuke’s shallow, ragged gasps.

  The heavy silence of the living room finally lifted, replaced by the soft sounds of a retreat. Shunsuke’s strength had been spent on that recording; he looked like a man who had walked through a fire and was only just now realizing he was burned.

  Kuro’s nudge was the final catalyst—the animal's simple, uncomplicated affection cutting through the static of Shunsuke's trauma. In that moment, the "Prince" was just a man who needed to sleep in a place where no one could hurt him.

  Miyu led him into the bedroom, the space they had claimed as their own. The air here was lighter, free from the weight of legal files and ancient grudges. She moved with a practiced tenderness, pulling back the duvet and helping him settle in.

  “Kuro is here with you,” Miyu whispered, her voice a soothing balm. She watched as he settled against the pillows, the raccoon immediately curling into a warm ball against his side. The animal’s rhythmic breathing became a substitute for the irregular, frantic heartbeat Shunsuke had been battling moments before.

  She brushed a stray hair from his forehead, her gaze lingering on his face with a fierce, protective love. “If you need anything—if the shadows come back—then just call me, Shunsuke. I’m right outside.” She paused, leaning down to press one more kiss to his brow. “I’m so proud of you, Shunsuke. You were the bravest person in that room today.”

  Miyu sat back down, her movements slow as if the air itself had become thick. "Thank you for stopping, Ryuichi," she said softly, her gaze drifting toward the bedroom door. "Shunsuke would have never stopped on his own. He would have kept talking until he stopped breathing if he thought it was what you needed."

  Ryuichi nodded, his face etched with a weary respect. "I know. He has a martyr’s heart. Thank you for taking care of him, Miyu. I’m not sure he would have made it through the first five minutes without you holding him together."

  Miyu offered a small, sad smile. "He never told me most of this. I knew there was pain, I knew he was afraid... but the details? He feels so ashamed." She sighed, twisting her engagement ring. "Sometimes I wish he could open up more to me, but I won’t pressure him. I’ll give him the time he needs. Even if it takes a lifetime."

  Misaki looked toward Ryuichi, taking a deep, bracing breath. "Do you still know if Minako is with Tsukasa?" she asked, her voice tinged with a strange, old bitterness.

  Ryuichi and Miyu both inclined their heads in a synchronized movement of confusion. "Who is Minako?" they asked almost in unison.

  Misaki’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Oh. Minako was Shunsuke’s first girlfriend—his first real love—when he was fifteen or sixteen. She was a sweet girl, but Tsukasa..." She paused, her jaw tightening. "Tsukasa seduced her. He systematically worked on her until he took her away from Shunsuke, just to show he could."

  "I never heard about her," Miyu said softly, a pained look crossing her face. "I thought Ren was the first person Shunsuke truly gave his heart to. I never knew there was someone before."

  Ryuichi nodded slowly, his mind racing through his memories of that time. "Neither did I. He never mentioned her to me, and I’ve been at his side since we were children. He must have buried that memory even deeper than the rest."

  Ryuichi leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he mentally calculated the years. "Minako... was she the same age as Shunsuke?"

  Misaki nodded, her expression curious. "Yes, actually. She was a month older than he was. I remember clearly because Shunsuke saved up for weeks to buy her a birthday present—a small locket, I think. Why are you asking, Ryu?"

  Ryuichi’s voice was like cold flint. "Because while eighteen is the age of consent in Tokyo, Tsukasa was an adult—a twenty-one-year-old ranking member of the Gumi—when he targeted a sixteen-year-old girl. Legally, that’s predatory. Socially? It’s a disgrace that even the Gumi elders can’t ignore. If he used his position or threats to ‘seduce’ her away from Shunsuke, it adds to the pattern of coercion."

  He tapped his chin with his pen. "I need to find her. If she was discarded by Tsukasa once he was bored, she might be a vital witness. If she’s still under his thumb, she might be a victim we need to extract."

  Misaki looked toward the bedroom door where Shunsuke was sleeping. "Shunsuke never spoke of her because he felt he 'lost' to his brother. He thought it meant he wasn't man enough. If you find her, Ryuichi, you have to be careful. Bringing her back into his life could be the thing that finally breaks him—or the thing that heals him."

  Misaki leaned back, her brow furrowed as she processed the new name. "Who was Ren?" she asked, her voice quiet but curious.

  Ryuichi took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to Miyu as if gauging how much of this wound was already open. "How much do you know about him?" he asked.

  Miyu shook her head slightly, her expression pained. "Not much. Just that he was his mentor and his first real love. Shunsuke has implied that it wasn't a healthy relationship... that Ren eventually betrayed him in the worst way possible."

  Ryuichi nodded grimly. "Ren was the 'No. 1' at Club Crystal when Shunsuke started. He was twenty-seven—a seasoned veteran of the nightlife—when Shunsuke, at barely eighteen, fell for him. To this day, I’m convinced there was something more calculated at work than just 'romance.' The power imbalance alone was staggering."

  He leaned forward, his hands clasped tight. "Shunsuke was vulnerable, desperate for the affection he never got at home, and Ren saw a golden goose. He didn't just mentor Shunsuke in the host business; he groomed him to be dependent. And when Tsukasa found out... he didn't try to 'save' Shunsuke. He used Ren as another tool to break him."