V6Ch4: Snow and Ink part 2

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Translator: Soafp

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“Yuu-chan! The sports festival is coming up soon!”

“The sports festival?”

Full of energy as always, his childhood friend Hinagi Suzurikawa was fired up and ready. Watching her shine so brightly, Yukito Kokonoe remembered—it really was that time of year.

“I’m slow, but I’ll do my best!”

“I’m cheering for you, so do your best, Hii-chan.”

To his always hardworking childhood friend, being slow didn't matter. Results were secondary. What mattered was putting in the effort, and the attitude with which you faced things. Unlike Yukito, who walked in the shadows, she walked proudly under the sun. That was her charm—and Yukito liked that cheerfulness about her.

“Yuu-chan, I'll be cheering for you too!”

“I’m okay. I'm not participating in the sports festival, after all.”

“Eh? Yuu-chan, did you get hurt somewhere?”

Ah, he had made her sad again. Her expression quickly turned to one on the verge of tears, and Yukito didn't know how to handle it. But there was nothing he could do. Participating would only make things worse for the class.

There was no goal to aim for with people who weren't comrades. He couldn't cooperate, and he was sure to drag them down. That was the correct choice, and what was expected of him—or so he believed.

All Yukito could do was cheer on his sister and childhood friend. That was enough.

His mother was surely looking forward to seeing his sister shine. There was no reason to dampen that mood by inserting himself into it. He didn't wish for much. If others could smile during a fun event, then that had value. He didn't need to be there. He had always been an outsider anyway.

“So, have fun, Hii-chan.”

---

“I decline.”

“Why? We need you. Without you—”

Just the two of them in an empty classroom. Despite Suzuka Sanjoji's pleas, Yukito didn't waver.

A firm refusal—Yukito Kokonoe was being stubborn to the end.

The sports festival. While everyone could choose which events they wanted to enter, there was one special event: the “Class Relay.” The highlight of the entire festival, run by selected members.

Unlike the other events, it wasn't voluntary. The runners were chosen by the fastest times recorded in P.E., boys and girls alike. Usually, this made the decision straightforward.

Normally, being chosen was an honor. The boy standing before her, Yukito Kokonoe, had earned that right.

It was a special day where the fastest kids got to be the stars. But—

“It has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not true! You’re part of the class too! Let's do our best together, okay?”

Teamwork, comradeship, unity—Suzuka desperately recited these ideals, even though deep down, she knew they were just pretty words. So empty. How could such a shallow argument ever convince him?

The class atmosphere was the worst. The kids didn't even smile much anymore. She couldn't even tell whether this situation could be called bullying or not. It wasn't that the classmates were ignoring Yukito—he was ignoring them. There was no clear solution. Maybe there wasn't one.

“If someone like me, who disrupts the harmony, joins, I'll just be in the way. Now, if you'll excuse me.”

His tone made it clear it was a waste of time. And with that, Yukito briskly walked off, ending the conversation. Suzuka Sanjoji stood frozen in place, stunned.

School isn't just about studying. Especially not in elementary school.

There were school events for a reason—to develop a sense of unity, to learn sociability and cooperation.

She had dreamed of it—everyone holding hands and smiling together. Charging toward the finish line.

But that dream crumbled all too easily. Maybe deep down, she knew this would happen. She could almost hear something cracking.

“He's just being stubborn, just sulking”—if she started thinking that way, it was just escapism. Suzuka Sanjoji was disgusted by her own pettiness. Who was actually in the right here?

They had unfairly pushed all the blame onto him. Incited the others. Shouted abuse. Hid his things. Destroyed them. Physically punished him. Hurt him. Used violence.

And when he finally retaliated without holding back, they wanted to say “Let's make up because we apologized”? Who would accept that? It was absurd. The hatred wouldn't disappear.

Even if she were in the same situation, she would never forgive. She wouldn't forget.

Just because a perpetrator pays damages or serves time doesn't mean the victim has to forgive. That's just fulfilling a social responsibility—it has nothing to do with personal emotion.

Yukito Kokonoe would never see his classmates as comrades. Superficial friends, superficial cooperation—was it right to force that, even as a teacher? Suzuka Sanjoji was utterly drained.

He likely saw her as just another enemy. That truth was the most painful of all.

“I failed again…”

She clenched her fists on her lap and let out a heavy sigh. Dizzy, she swayed slightly.

Nothing was going right. Trying to urge participation under the guise of sound logic had been a mistake.

Her inability to strip away the armor of rationalization — her pride as a teacher — had only gotten in the way and made her come off as insincere. No matter what she said, she wouldn't be heard. To him, Suzuka Sanjoji was just another enemy — part of the problem.

What she should have done was seek the truth. Approach him from an equal footing. Apologize while looking him in the eye.

She hadn't done that. And because of it, maybe he had deemed her not even worth dealing with.

Since that day, he had never once called her “sensei.”

Yukito Kokonoe didn't speak to anyone in the class.

He was quiet — but eerily so. His presence couldn't be ignored.

“If we end up losing to the other classes because of this, the responsibility will…”

Takayama was also one of the relay team members. Ever since then, he had turned into someone completely different — meek and quiet. Kazuhiro Okamoto wasn't very athletic either. Expecting them to make up for the gap was unrealistic.

If their class lost because Yukito Kokonoe didn't participate in the relay, the backlash from the classmates would grow even worse. Misplaced anger — a tantrum in the form of blame. The truth was, everyone who had gone along with the atmosphere was just as guilty.

But they refused to face that, instead seeking a convenient outlet for their frustration.

And they found it: Kazuhiro Okamoto.

He would be their sacrificial lamb. The torment would continue. It was a runaway train no one could stop.

Yukito Kokonoe, by doing nothing — saying nothing, changing nothing — had made that inaction the most effective form of retaliation.

It was maddening. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“…To be this powerless… this utterly powerless!”

In the empty classroom, tears fell. A sob of despair.

She had held on for the sake of Misaki Himiyama, who had given up on her dreams. She had done her best, trying desperately to endure. But maybe… she had reached her limit.

More than anything, what scared her now was the thought of being the one to cause further harm to the children.
To distort their future. To crush their potential. That thought alone terrified her more than anything.

She hugged her trembling body tightly.

And in a voice that barely qualified as a whisper, she sobbed.

“I'm sorry, Misaki-san… I don't think I can do this anymore…”

---

With all the wrongdoing brought to light, Kazuhiro Okamoto's hell had begun.

His classmates ignored him. If he listened closely, he could hear them whispering insults behind his back.

If their eyes met, they immediately looked away.

Luckily, because the issue had blown up into something serious, he wasn't directly bullied anymore — no punches, no stolen belongings, no verbal abuse.

Everyone had learned their lesson. No one had the courage to repeat that mistake.

In the classroom, Kazuhiro Okamoto had been erased.

Meanwhile, Yukito Kokonoe had erased everyone else.

One was passively excluded. The other actively excluded.

That gulf was vast.

They might have seemed the same, but they were fundamentally different.

Everyone still cared — perhaps too much — about Yukito Kokonoe.

No one cared about Kazuhiro Okamoto.

At best, the homeroom teacher would occasionally ask how he was doing. But nothing changed. The suffering continued.

Through this, Kazuhiro Okamoto learned just how helpless and useless adults could be.

“Why me…? Don't screw with me! Don't screw with me! Don't screw with me!”

He threw his backpack at the wall, screaming uncontrollably.

He ripped up the school handouts into shreds. For a moment he snapped back to his senses and wondered what he was doing, but quickly decided it didn't matter.

After all, he didn't believe he'd done anything wrong.

He hadn't meant to steal Misaki Himiyama's belongings. He'd just gotten startled by someone approaching, panicked, and shoved it into the nearest desk — not even realizing it was Yukito Kokonoe's.

Yes, he'd pinned the blame on someone else. But it had just… turned out that way. He hadn't meant for that to happen.

Even when people told him it was a terrible thing, Kazuhiro Okamoto couldn't fully accept it. He had no awareness that he had pushed someone else into hell. And because of that, he couldn't endure the unjust reality he now found himself in.

It filled him with a rage so deep it felt like his guts were boiling.

Pain, suffering, humiliation — this endless trial. It was an unbearable injustice.

The situation had spiraled out of control almost immediately. Terrified, he had clammed up.

He had meant to come clean. But when Suzuka Sanjoji had condemned him so harshly in front of everyone, everything had been ruined.

He had felt some guilt — enough that apologizing hadn't been difficult. He thought it was the right thing to do. And he had hoped, if they reconciled, things could go back to normal.

“What the hell is with that guy?!”

He thought back to Yukito Kokonoe's expression and lashed out again.

Even after Kazuhiro Okamoto had admitted fault and apologized, Yukito had looked at him like he was trash — like something foul stuck to the bottom of his shoe — and walked away without a word.

They had never really interacted much before. Never had a proper conversation. But he couldn't stand him. He had apologized — wasn't that enough?

No matter how much he raged in his room, his frustration wouldn't go away. Tomorrow, he'd be back in that school — back in hell. Back to those scornful, icy glares from his classmates.

Because Misaki Himiyama, the intern teacher, had been involved, the incident hadn't stayed confined to just their class — it had spread. Other students knew. Now, even they treated him like something untouchable.

Being publicly shamed had crushed Kazuhiro Okamoto's pride.

And now, his anger had turned toward the teacher as well.

No — more than that. Suzuka Sanjoji had become the primary object of his hatred.

It had all started because of her misstep in the beginning.

And yet, he had followed her instruction — he had apologized to Yukito Kokonoe.

But nothing had changed.

He had been tricked.

“…Sports Day, huh.”

He looked at the calendar. It wasn't like he was looking forward to it—if anything, now it was nothing but a source of dread. He didn't want to go to school. His parents were worried about him. He hadn't done anything wrong.

Kazuhiko Okamoto kept playing the victim, placing the blame on everyone but himself—that was his true nature.

“Damn it!”

He had run home from school and cursed under his breath in his room. They had decided the events for Sports Day.

Prompted by the homeroom teacher, Kazuhiko ended up participating in the tug-of-war. Not because he wanted to, but because that was the only event left he could join. He didn't care about that part.

He never liked sports to begin with. The problem started after that.

Yukito Kokonoe, who was fast, didn't join the relay. In fact, he didn't seem interested in participating in Sports Day at all and ignored everything about it.

That weakened the class's overall strength. The classmates who were looking forward to Sports Day turned their anger on Kazuhiko. He was directly blamed and yelled at face-to-face. Takayama and others were among them.

For Kazuhiko, who was scraping by emotionally just to attend school, it was an unbearable humiliation.

Even after that, Yukito continued to not participate in anything. And the consequences of that were all dumped on Kazuhiko. No one talked to him unless it was to criticize him—and in those moments, they became disturbingly vocal and relentless. Even when Suzuka Sanjoji tried to intervene, it was like pouring water on a hot stone.

Of course that was how it turned out. Who would listen to the words of an adult who had lost all trust? Suzuka Sanjoji had become someone the students no longer respected. The class was falling apart. What barely held it together was the fear of Yukito Kokonoe. He had proven the effectiveness of violence.

Eventually, Kazuhiko couldn't stand being in the classroom anymore and started going to the infirmary instead.

That day, too, his parents were arguing again.

“If he’s going to stop going to school, maybe we should transfer him.”

“What about our jobs? He’s like this because you coddled him!”

That was the moment their marriage began to crack.

---

“…Four o'clock?”

He checked the clock. He had woken up at an awkward time. He didn't feel like getting up and just let his eyes wander.

Outside the window was nothing but darkness. The sun wouldn't rise for a while.

He had woken up at the wrong time. His alarm would go off at six. If he went back to sleep now, he might oversleep and be late for school. He wasn't especially diligent, but being late didn't sit well with him.

Rubbing his eyes, Kazuhiko grimaced at the discomfort of his sweat-dampened T-shirt.

He'd had a dream. A memory from his past. A time he didn't want to remember—those hopeless days.

There was no question about when his life began to derail. It all started after he transferred schools.

Back in elementary school, Kazuhiko had changed schools as a form of escape. It didn't change the fact that he ran away.

Since they owned their home, they couldn't move. So he had to commute to a school outside his district, increasing his parents' burden. Maybe it had been building up for a while—maybe it was already strained—but that's when his parents began to argue more often.

At first, he was just glad to be out of hell. But Kazuhiko, who was never good at communication, found the role of “transfer student” to be another trial.

He never really fit in. He felt like a foreign object.

When classmates asked why he had transferred, he couldn't tell them the truth and lied, saying, “It was because of my parents' work.” That miserable excuse.

He couldn't say it was because of bullying. Not that he had been bullied, exactly. He wanted to exaggerate and act like the victim, but admitting what he had done carried risks. On some level, he knew.

His dissatisfaction accumulated. The poison slowly settled. It grew more concentrated.

In the end, Kazuhiko never got the school life he wanted even at his new school.

He chose to attend a private middle school far enough away that he wouldn't run into his old classmates.

Around that time, the stress of work caused his father's debt to be exposed, and Kazuhiko's family completely fell apart.

They didn't divorce, but they lived separately. Their home became one of cold silence.

He began staying in his room more, fiddling with his computer. With endless time on his hands, Kazuhiko started soaking up knowledge. The internet became his domain.

If a person has even one thing they're good at, it can become a source of confidence. He had finally found a way to rebuild his wounded self-esteem. Kazuhiko fell deeper into the online world, his ego growing more inflated.

Thanks to the start of free high school tuition, the family's financial burden lessened, but they never really had breathing room.

He remembered clearly the day his mother said, “It's your fault.”

Because of his transfer, his father had pushed himself too hard. That stress exploded, and everything fell apart.

She must have been bitter—he was always complaining without understanding his father's struggles.

He had wanted to attend Shoyo High School, but chose a closer school instead. He couldn't push for his own desires anymore.

That, too, became poison that coursed through him, eating away from the inside.

Feeling idle, he opened his phone and checked social media, as was his habit.

Immediately, he saw a name he didn't want to.

They were thriving—radiating so brightly it almost hurt to look.

“…Why are you there?”

Surrounded by friends and living a noisy, lively life—it was a disgusting joke. The boy who once rejected everything, who stole everything, who drove him into the depths of despair—was now enjoying his days?

That was not where Yukito Kokonoe belonged. That was where Kazuhiro Okamoto should have been.

Kazuhiro Okamoto was leading a dull, uninspired high school life.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reclaim what he had lost.

If only he hadn't transferred schools and had continued on a normal path, he could've reached a different future.
A dropout, banished from the classroom and cast out of normal life. The world was wrong.

His hatred only deepened—it would never fade, not now, not ever.

Not that Kazuhiro Okamoto had felt intense hatred from the beginning. He had made it this far, however clumsily.
He had studied, made friends, gotten into high school, and was getting by.

Even if he had complaints and dissatisfaction, they were things he could swallow.

Then one day, by chance, he ran into his old elementary school classmate Akari.

She had entered Shoyo High School, the school Kazuhiro had wanted to attend. It was an awkward reunion, but Akari wasn't heartless enough to treat him coldly, especially knowing their own behavior had cornered him into transferring schools back then.

She apologized, and the two began talking again. Unexpectedly, it became enjoyable.

Inside, Kazuhiro was surprised at how much Akari had changed. Gone was the headstrong girl he remembered—
she had become a beautiful girl with a somewhat melancholy air. And more than anything—

He didn't pry too deeply. Kazuhiro himself had things he didn't want asked.

From their conversations, he learned that Yukito Kokonoe and Suzuka Sanjoji also attended Shoyo High School.
The names irritated him, but he forced himself to brush them off. He didn't want anything to do with them.

However, according to Akari, Yukito was apparently in a rather interesting situation.

Suddenly, his interest was piqued. It was a sharp pleasure, like scraping off stubborn rust stuck deep in his chest.

Before they knew it, the two had become silent co-conspirators, unable to share their connection with anyone.

Rumors about Yukito Kokonoe were already spreading on message boards. All they did was add a little bit to it.

Just a small prank. A little revenge. It felt amazing. Liberating. A first-time emotion.

For Kazuhiro, just seeing Yukito in trouble was satisfying. It calmed his rage. Akari had no real grudge either—she just wanted to get a little payback. So, they decided to stop after that. That was supposed to be the end.

But Yukito's situation began to change drastically.

While Kazuhiro lived through suffocating days, Yukito kept rising higher and higher. To a place so far above, it was like Kazuhiro was nothing more than a pebble on the roadside. Even Akari felt inferior—she wasn’t even in Yukito's field of view. That's why… just once more, they teamed up.

This time, Akari carried out Kazuhiro's idea. It was too malicious to be called a mere prank. But by becoming the one who acted, Akari gave Kazuhiro leverage over her.

And yet, the result was a failure. The ripples it caused died down immediately.

After hearing the full story from Akari, Kazuhiro was left baffled. The cheating accusations vanished almost instantly.
Soon, no teachers were speaking ill of Yukito at all.

They couldn't even land a single blow. It was just like elementary school all over again—soaked in humiliation.

By then, Akari had begun distancing herself from Kazuhiro. As Yukito's presence grew larger, she could no longer bear the weight of what they had done.

The once-close relationship between Kazuhiro and Akari began to cool.

Then, one summer day on his way back from cram school, Kazuhiro happened to see them.

Yukito Kokonoe walking with MisakiHimiyama. Kazuhiro recognized her instantly.

She had the same gentle air as before, but had become even more beautiful. She exuded more mature charm now, but it was unmistakably her. What struck him as strange was that she was walking arm-in-arm with Yukito.

(Why is she with him…?)

Endless questions surfaced. The sight was too surreal.

If they were enemies, he could understand. Even if she harbored resentment, it would make sense.
They were supposed to be on opposite sides.

But their atmosphere was sweet, like they were on a date.

Kazuhiro wasn't about to scream about “betrayals” or anything like that. He was just… furious.

(Just how much are you going to mock me?)

He felt like he could hear the words “lifelong loser.”

Maybe it was his first love—he couldn't even remember. Not that it mattered now. Misaki had never known how he felt.
At best, she had been a fleeting childhood crush.

He had no lingering feelings for her. Had he not seen her, he wouldn't even have remembered.

But he couldn't accept it.

It felt like a nightmare—like a fresh defeat had been forced onto him.

Had she been sweet-talked? No matter how much he thought about it, there was no answer.

He asked Akari, but she was just as shocked and didn't know anything either.

He didn't know what path Misaki had walked since then, but he believed she must have hated Yukito too.

He had assumed she was on his side. And yet—

The contrast between their lives became overwhelming. Kazuhiro's resentment hardened into a blade of hatred.

According to Akari, Yukito's attention-grabbing behavior was getting him disliked. He was often summoned and scolded by Sanjoji, who was supposedly in charge of student guidance. Served him right.

The ones who had ruined his life—Suzuka Sanjoji and Kokonoe Yukito. Now joined by Misaki Himiyama.

Kazuhiro Okamoto began to feel as though he had been dragged back into those miserable, humiliating days of elementary school.

Is something like this—this kind of absurdity—really allowed?

Thrown into hell, burned endlessly by the flames of purgatory. While his family was destroyed and he led a miserable high school life, Yukito Kokonoe became famous, always in the spotlight, surrounded by people.

“What the hell is this…?”

A cruel contrast. The dormant desire for revenge stirred awake. At the same time, a calmer self issued a warning: the opponent is powerful. A head-on confrontation won’t work. He would need a more indirect, cunning approach.

Personal grudge? So what? The one who deserves all this pent-up resentment is right there.

He had never intended to risk his life for revenge. But at the very least, he could leave a scar that would never fade. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair. A revolution born from a scorned and underestimated slave. A dark flame began to burn.

“The die is cast.”

Thanks to Akari, a more direct and powerful method had been set in motion. The risk was high. The punishment Suzuka Sanjoji deserved had been carried out. To let her go on living comfortably as a teacher—he would never allow it.

After hearing from Akari about Suzuka Sanjoji’s condition, he smirked. Let her waste away just like Kazunari Okamoto once did. Let her fall, lose everything, and be left with nothing but envy from the bottom.

He headed to the living room, poured water into a cup, and chugged it down. Regaining a bit of composure.

“…Pathetic.”

Fiddling with his phone, he clicked his tongue, hoping to find something interesting.

There was a huge scandal involving a part-time job gone viral. A case of attention-hungry fools self-destructing. Uploading their own crimes on social media—utter stupidity. He scoffed at how people never learn.

(Wait a second…?)

A spark of inspiration lit up. These past few days, Kazunari Okamoto had felt a sense of purpose like never before.

Though shrouded in gloom, his heart was burning with excitement. A twisted grin spread across his face.

“This is it! Hahaha! This is exactly it!”

Yukito Kokonoe is an influencer. He has tons of followers. But in the end, they're nothing more than a disorderly mob. Still, all that attention can easily become his downfall.

“I’m going to drag you down from that pedestal.”

The one to strike Yukito Kokonoe down wouldn't be him directly. There’s a famous trope in SS (short stories): “a drug that reverses affection.” Without a doubt, Yukito Kokonoe would fall right into that trap.

Those he believed to be allies would betray him in an instant and become enemies.

Behind every word of praise lies an ugly jealousy. All it takes is the right moment to explode.

He planned the strategy. From the looks of it, Akari was reaching her limit. Getting her cooperation again would be difficult.

“If that’s the case—”

Ideas kept pouring in. He was having the time of his life. He had never felt more alive.

“Hm? A message?”

He checked it—it was some nonsense from some worthless people.

(Ugh, annoying… but I can't just ignore it.)

He figured he could talk to them directly tomorrow. They had agreed not to say anything explicitly in writing. It was part of their risk management plan—just in case something happened, they'd have a way to escape blame.

They could use self-erasing messaging apps, but even using something like that was basically admitting they had something to hide. Better to stay cautious.

He got into bed and closed his eyes. His consciousness drifted toward sleep.

It looked like he might have a good morning for once.

—Kazunari Okamoto's fate had arrived at yet another turning point.