Yukinoshita Haruno hadn't gone far. She was just walking aimlessly along the coastline, trying to let the sea breeze blow away the confusion in her heart. However, a series of hurried and heavy footsteps came from behind her, carrying an unsettling aura of malice.
She instinctively looked back and saw Hayama Hayato rushing toward her. His eyes, which were usually gentle, were now bloodshot, and his face was contorted and hideous, completely devoid of his usual sunny and cheerful demeanor.
"Hayato? You..." Haruno was startled, but before she could finish, she was rudely interrupted by Hayama Hayato.
"Why?! Haruno! Why did you lie to me?!" Hayama Hayato was practically roaring, his voice hoarse and filled with pain and fury.
Haruno frowned, forcing herself to remain calm. "What did I lie to you about?"
"You clearly like Uncle Kanjuro! But you kept it from me all this time! You didn't reject my kindness, making me hold onto hope like a fool! Did you enjoy watching me suffer for you?!" Hayama Hayato waved his arms excitedly, spittle nearly splashing onto Haruno's face.
Seeing him out of control, Haruno understood in her heart that this must be Kanjuro's doing. She sighed, her tone apologetic but mostly calm as she tried to explain: "Hayato, I'm sorry for causing this misunderstanding. But I think you might have been provoked by something, or believed some untruths. I didn't intentionally deceive your feelings."
She tried to calm him down: "I just... have someone I like in my heart. I didn't explicitly reject you at first because I was considering your feelings and feared you'd be sad. Later at the cafe, didn't I make it clear to you? The person I like is Kanjuro. I thought you would understand then..."
"Understand?! Understand what?!" Hayama Hayato couldn't listen at all. He lunged forward, his hands like iron pincers gripping Haruno's shoulders, shaking her violently with a crazed look in his eyes. "You kept me on a leash while being with Uncle Kanjuro! You're a bitch! A piece of trash! What did you take my feelings for?!"
The pain in her shoulders made Haruno gasp. She forcefully broke free from Hayama Hayato's grip and stepped back to put distance between them. Rubbing her aching shoulders, she managed to squeeze out a bitter smile filled with pity and helplessness:
"Hayato, calm down! I'm telling the truth! I like Kanjuro, and that's an unchangeable fact! For you, I've only ever had the concern an older sister has for a younger brother, nothing more! After the cafe, I thought we had reached an understanding!"
She hoped her honesty would restore Hayama Hayato's reason.
However, Hayama Hayato, his mind corroded by Black Magic, had long since lost the ability for rational thought. To him, Haruno's "admission" and explanation sounded more like proof of "deception" and "betrayal"!
"An understanding? Hahaha..." Hayama Hayato let out a shrill, hideous laugh that sounded particularly eerie in the sea breeze. "So, if I can't have you, don't think you'll have it easy either!"
Before his voice finished echoing, he suddenly pulled a shiny folding knife from his pocket. With a "click," the blade flipped open. Under Haruno's terrified gaze, he stepped forward, and the cold blade was instantly pressed against her slender, fragile neck!
"Since I can't have you while I'm alive..." Hayama Hayato's blood-red eyes stared fixedly at Haruno's instantly pale face, his voice like a curse from hell, filled with desperate madness, "then let's go to hell together!!"
The sharp tip of the knife pressed against her skin, bringing a bone-chilling cold and a lethal threat. Yukinoshita Haruno's whole body stiffened; she could clearly feel the blade's sharpness and Hayama Hayato's uncontrolled, trembling hand. The shadow of death had never loomed over her so clearly.
Looking at this complete stranger before her, a Hayama Hayato consumed by hatred and madness, what welled up in her heart wasn't fear, but a deep sorrow and powerlessness.
(Kanjuro... is this your method?)
(Utilizing someone who truly liked me and turning him into a weapon to kill me...)
(You really are... outrageously cruel...)
She knew that no matter what she said now, she couldn't wake the controlled Hayama Hayato. She closed her eyes, waiting for the expected sharp pain, or... a turn of events. The sea breeze continued to blow, but it carried the scent of death. The cold blade pressed against the skin of her neck, bringing a slight but clear stinging sensation as a trickle of warm blood slid down her collarbone, staining Haruno's light-colored collar red. She didn't struggle, nor did she show much fear; she was like a puppet that had lost its strings, held at knifepoint by the maddened Hayama Hayato behind her, stepping one, then another, toward the deep blue seawater churning with white foam.
Waves lapped at their ankles and calves, soaking their pant legs and skirt with a bone-chilling cold.
"Hayato," Haruno's voice sounded somewhat ethereal in the sea breeze, yet exceptionally calm. "Actually... dying with you isn't really a problem."
Hearing her words, Hayama Hayato grinned hideously, his laughter mixing with the sound of the waves to sound particularly bizarre: "Yes! This is good! This way we can be together forever! No one can ever separate us again!"
Haruno shook her head gently, allowing the seawater to gradually submerge her waist, her voice carrying an exhaustion that had seen through everything and a deep despair: "Being together... is impossible. But, I truly... don't want to live anymore."
She tilted her head back slightly, the golden afterglow of the setting sun spilling onto her pale yet still beautiful profile. Those eyes that were always filled with cunning or aloofness now held only a dead, silent tranquility.
"You can't understand... what it feels like to be personally sent to one's end by the person you love most."
A flash of confusion crossed Hayama Hayato's blood-red eyes, quickly replaced by a morbid excitement: "The person you love most is sending you to your end? You mean me? Hahaha! Haruno! You really do like me after all, don't you?! You finally admitted it before death!"
Haruno shook her head again, her movements slow but firm, causing a few more beads of blood to seep from the wound on her neck.
"No, Hayato." Her voice was very soft, but it struck Hayama Hayato's heart like a hammer (even though that heart was corroded by darkness), "The person sending me to my end... isn't you. It's... the person who controlled you and turned you into what you are now."
"Controlled me? Who controlled me?! No one controls me!" Hayama Hayato argued excitedly, but there was a momentary look of confusion deep in his eyes, quickly covered by even thicker madness. He roared viciously, "You really... won't like me even until death! Your heart only has Kanjuro! Only him!"
Haruno ignored his roar and didn't care about the blade cutting deeper. Her gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, as if remembering something, or making a final farewell.
"I once thought... the happiest thing in this life would be being with Kanjuro." Her voice carried a trace of sleepwalking-like trance. "When we were little... he was always so gentle, so strong, as if he could shield me from all wind and rain... that period was indeed carefree."
The seawater had already reached her chest, bone-chillingly cold and making her tremble slightly, but her tone remained calm.
"But... as I grew older, I gradually understood... there is a chasm between him and me that can never be crossed. It's bloodline, it's ethics, it's a taboo destined... to never be together."
"Shut up! Shut up!! Why do you have to mention Kanjuro in front of me even when you're about to die!!" Hayama Hayato hissed in a rage as if his sore spot had been stepped on. His free hand suddenly swung up and slapped Haruno hard across the face!
"Slap!" The crisp sound was particularly abrupt amidst the sound of the waves.
Haruno's cheek instantly became red and swollen, but she only tilted her head, without even a cry of pain. She didn't even look at Hayama Hayato, stubbornly continuing to speak of that unspeakable, twisted love and pain as if talking to herself.
Hayama Hayato completely lost his mind. The blade in his hand pressed harder due to his excitement, cutting a deeper gash into Haruno's fair neck. Blood gurgled out, spreading a faint red in the seawater.
The two continued walking toward the deep sea. The water had submerged their chests, and waves crashed over them, nearly swallowing them. The setting sun cast its final rays onto the sea, reflecting this desperate and cruel scene.
Haruno closed her eyes, her long eyelashes wet with either seawater or tears. She stopped speaking, as if she had accepted this arranged final ending from her 'most beloved.'
Cold seawater washed over her chin, surging toward her mouth and nose... the shadow of death completely loomed over her.
Just at the moment her consciousness was about to be snatched away by the cold and suffocation—
A familiar voice, carrying a bit of laziness and playfulness, pierced through the roar of the waves like a ghost and clearly reached their ears:
"Oh my... what kind of double suicide scene is being staged here? My good 'nephew,' and... my dear Haruno." The moment that familiar, spine-chillingly leisurely tone rang out, Hayama Hayato felt his wrist go numb as if struck by an invisible current, and his fingers involuntarily loosened! Before he could even see what happened, the folding knife that had been pressed tightly against Haruno's neck had changed hands and landed steadily in Yukinoshita Haruno's hand!
Haruno instinctively gripped the cold handle, looking in bewilderment at the murder weapon in her hand, then suddenly looked up toward the source of the voice.
Kanjuro stood on the shallow beach not far away, the seawater only reaching the soles of his shoes. The afterglow of the setting sun outlined a dazzling halo behind him, yet he seemed to be standing in an independent shadow. With that eternal, gentle yet profound smile on his face, he was watching with great interest, as if enjoying a play that had nothing to do with him.
"Kanjuro..." Haruno's voice was hoarse. The calmness she had when facing death earlier had completely vanished, replaced by a massive anger at being toyed with and a bone-deep chill. "What exactly... do you want?!"
Her tone had completely changed; it was no longer the smooth social mask or the awkward concern for her sister from her daily life. Instead, it was a naked, sinister coldness like a poisoned icicle after all disguises were stripped away.
To her questioning, Kanjuro only gave a slight sigh as if in regret, as if blaming her for her lack of understanding.
"What do I want?" he repeated, the curve of his lips unchanging, but a dark light suddenly flashed in those deep eyes!
[Gospel of Matthew: Magic Manipulation]!
An invisible, cold force instantly seized Haruno's arm that was holding the knife! It wasn't physical coercion, but a more direct, absolute dominance over her limbs and movements!
"No...!" Haruno's pupils shrank as she tried to resist in terror, but her arm would no longer obey her!
Under Kanjuro's gaze filled with a cruel smile, her arm was like a marionette's, forcibly controlled by a tyrannical power, swinging forward with incredible speed!
The cold blade drew a shrill silver arc in the air!
The target was aimed directly at the neck of Hayama Hayato, who was still stunned in place because his knife had been snatched, his face still showing traces of madness and blankness!
"Puchi—!"
The dull sound of the sharp blade slicing through flesh and bone clearly reached Haruno's ears, even drowning out the roar of the waves.
A warm, metallic-smelling liquid sprayed out violently, drenching Haruno's head and face!
She froze in place, watching helplessly as Hayama Hayato's blood-red eyes widened to their limit, filled with extreme shock, pain, and disbelief. He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but only a wheezing sound of escaping air came out. Soon, the light in his eyes faded rapidly, and his entire body went limp as if his bones had been removed, falling backward with a heavy 'thud' into the sea.
Bright red blood gushed from the horrific wound on his neck like thick ink, quickly staining the azure seawater and forming a glaring, expanding crimson area. It mirrored the blood-like setting sun on the horizon, creating a hellish tableau.
The sea breeze blew past, carrying a heavy scent of blood.
Haruno stood dazed, her hand still tightly gripping the murderous blade stained with warm blood. Her face, hair, and clothes were all splattered with Hayama Hayato's blood. She could feel the stickiness and warmth of the liquid, and smell that nauseating metallic odor.
Tears welled up without warning, mixing with the blood on her face and winding their way down.
She looked at the spreading crimson in the sea, at Hayama Hayato's lifeless body being swallowed by the waves, then slowly raised her trembling hand to look at the blood-stained knife. Finally, she turned her gaze toward the perpetrator—Kanjuro, who was still smiling as if he had just casually brushed away a speck of dust.
Her lips quivered as she squeezed out a cold sentence from the depths of her throat, a mixture of endless pain, despair, and a thorough realization of reality:
"You... are truly... a madman."
In response to her accusation, Kanjuro merely shrugged indifferently, as if the title of "madman" was nothing more than an inconsequential compliment to him.
Stepping through the seawater, he walked step by step toward the stiff, soul-shorn Haruno. His smile, framed by the blood-colored sunset, appeared increasingly eerie and... satisfied.
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