At ten years old, the light filtering through the curtains of the Nakamura living room was nothing but warmth. In the golden dust dancing through the air, two small six-year-old silhouettes collided, laughing. Issei and Takeru. Back then, their crystal-clear voices were the only melody in the house.
— Careful not to fall, boys! called Issei's father from the doorway.
Issei, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with joy, turned around laughing.
— Yes, Dad! Look, Takeru can't catch me!
— That's not true! Takeru shot back with a cheerful breath. I'm just letting you win!
Near the couch, Issei's mother watched them, a smile so gentle it seemed capable of healing any wound. The father grabbed his briefcase, ready for work, but paused. His protective gaze took in the two children.
— Alright, I have to go… Be good… and make your mother smile!
— Yes! Bye-bye, Dad! they shouted in unison.
At that exact moment, little Issei's face radiated absolute purity. The world was simple. The world was beautiful. Secrets did not exist yet.
Present – Seisun High School, Classroom DS1
Gold had turned to gray.
The fine rain scratching against the classroom windows seemed to mourn the past. Issei no longer laughed. His eyes, once full of light, were fixed on Takeru's back, seated a few rows ahead.
His fingers tightened around his pen. The plastic nearly cracked under the pressure. His knuckles turned white.
You promised to make her smile, Takeru, he thought, rage boiling in his chest. Not to steal her.
Suddenly, the silence of the classroom shattered into a cacophony of vibrations.
BZZZ. BZZZ.
One phone. Then two. Then thirty.
An electric shiver ran through the room.
This wasn't an ordinary notification.
It was the moment paranoia crossed the school's gates.
The Message
During the 10 AM break, the air in the hallways became suffocating. Students crowded around their screens, faces twisted with shock or malice.
— Did you get this? one whispered. "The angel of the school hides a demon beneath her wallet."
— Look at the attached photo… That's the luxury bag Emi had yesterday!
A few meters away, Emi felt the ground give way beneath her feet. All color drained from her face. Every gaze turned into an arrow piercing her skin.
Without a word, she slipped away, fleeing the crowd—especially Kenji's eyes.
She ended up leaning against a cold wall behind the gym, where shadows were deepest.
But she wasn't alone.
Hiro was waiting.
He spun a small SD card between his fingers with cruel nonchalance.
— Was it you who sent that message? Emi hissed, her voice trembling.
— I'm just a photographer, Emi, he replied with a smirk. But I know that bag isn't with you anymore. You sold it online last night.
He leaned closer.
— Your reasons? I don't care. But if you don't want the next message to include your name and address… you're going to pay me.
A pause.
— With information. About Shin, the student council president.
The blackmail had begun.
The Raven's web had caught its first prey.
Brothers No More
By the end of the day, the tension hadn't eased.
In the empty emergency stairwell, Issei blocked Takeru's path. The air was so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife.
— You were at my house again last night, Issei spat.
— Your mother isn't doing well, Takeru replied calmly. She needs someone who doesn't yell at her all day.
Something snapped.
Issei grabbed him by the collar and slammed him violently against the concrete wall.
— We were like brothers! You're using my father's death to worm your way into her life? To take his place?
— "We were," Takeru repeated, his cold eyes locking onto Issei's. You stopped being a brother the day you became this frozen stranger. If you can't protect her, I will. Even if you hate me for it.
Issei raised his fist, breathing hard.
He was about to strike.
He wanted to shatter that calm arrogance.
But suddenly—
A memory flashed.
Six-year-old Takeru, laughing in their living room.
His fist froze mid-air, trembling.
Then slowly… he let go.
With pure disgust, he turned his back.
Poisoned Blood
Meanwhile, in the luxurious Mizuno residence, the lighting was soft—but the atmosphere was anything but.
Takeru stood in front of a mirror, tending to his split lip.
Sayuri sat nearby, watching him with royal indifference.
— Issei again? she said lazily. You should stop playing the martyr for that teacher, big brother. It's pathetic.
— Look who's talking, Takeru replied. Planning to start your little game with Daiki again?
— Daiki is mine, she answered simply. Yuna is just an insignificant obstacle I'll crush.
Takeru let out a cold, humorless laugh.
— "Yours"? You've already embarrassed me enough back in middle school. When you went after the math teacher's son. You seduced him just to destroy him—until he was forced to lick your shoes in front of everyone.
— That was justified revenge, Sayuri snapped, a spark of pure cruelty in her eyes. His mother made me clean the classroom alone. I hate being treated like I'm beneath someone.
— You destroy lives over nothing. You're not looking for love—you're looking for slaves.
She stood up slowly, walked over, and tapped his cheek with poisonous gentleness.
— We share the same blood, Takeru. We take what we want. The only difference… is that I embrace my darkness.
The Beginning of the End
Night fell over the school, but the student council office was still lit.
Alone under his desk lamp, Shin stared at his screen.
His eyes scanned a document he should never have found:
"MIZUNO HISTORY – MIDDLE SCHOOL INCIDENTS."
Reports of harassment.
Testimonies from broken victims.
— If Daiki sees this… Shin murmured. But who dug this up now?
The investigation had just begun.
But the poison had already spread.
The Broken Promise
Miles away, in the silent Nakamura house, Issei stood before a photo frame on the shelf.
The glass was cracked.
A thin fracture cut across his father's face.
In the reflection of the broken glass, Issei saw his mother's shadow—sitting alone in the living room, crying silently in the dark.
The promise was dead.
And the ruins… were starting to collapse