Chapter 12
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Max stood in the campus store, looking at the shoe display.
Indoor school shoes. Plain white. Cheap.
He picked a pair in his size. Then went to find gym clothes.
The total came to ¥4,800. More than he'd wanted to spend. His budget was already tight.
He paid. Took the bag.
Back at his locker, he put the new shoes inside. Locked it. Checked the lock twice.
The next day, they were still there.
And the day after that.
No one took them.
Max told himself to stop worrying about it. It was over. Just a strange incident. Nothing more.
But he still checked his locker three times a day.
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Aiko stopped coming to the cafeteria.
Yuki noticed first.
"Have you seen Yamamoto lately?"
Hiro shrugged. "Maybe she's eating somewhere else."
"Or not eating."
"Don't be dramatic."
But Yuki was right.
Aiko had started bringing lunch to the library. Eating alone at a table in the back corner. Away from everyone.
She'd tried sitting with her usual group last week.
They'd been polite. Smiled. But the conversation had felt forced. Uncomfortable.
Then Sato had excused herself. Then Hiro. Then others.
Until it was just Yuki and Aiko.
"They're busy," Yuki had said. Not meeting Aiko's eyes.
"Right."
"It's not personal."
Aiko had nodded. Finished her lunch. Left.
She hadn't tried sitting with them again.
The whispers started shortly after.
Aiko would walk past groups of students and hear her name. Fragments of sentences. Laughter that cut off when she got too close.
Her phone buzzed constantly. Notifications. Messages.
She'd made the mistake of looking.
Her photo. Her face.
But not her body.
Someone had taken her pictures from social media. Her face. And put it on someone else. Someone naked. Someone in pornographic images.
Dozens of them.
Hundreds.
Spreading through message groups. Posted on forums. Shared. Reshared.
Comments underneath.
*"Yamamoto finally showing her true self"*
*"Always knew she was a slut"*
*"Perfect girl act didn't last long"*
Aiko had reported them. Deleted her accounts. Changed her number.
It didn't matter.
They kept spreading.
Screenshots. Downloads. New accounts.
People she'd never met had seen her face on those images. Believed they were real.
Her inbox filled with messages. Propositions. Insults.
She stopped checking.
But she couldn't stop people from showing her.
Someone had left a printed copy on her desk in class.
Another student had "accidentally" held up their phone as she walked past, the image displayed clearly.
In the bathroom, she'd heard girls laughing. Recognized their voices.
"Did you see the new ones?"
"They're getting better at making them look real."
"She probably deserves it. Acting all perfect."
Aiko had stayed in the stall until they left.
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She sat alone in the library. Staring at her textbook. Not reading.
Everyone knew.
Everyone had seen.
Her parents had called. Someone had sent the images to them. To her mother's work email.
The conversation had been worse than the images themselves.
Aiko couldn't go anywhere without feeling eyes on her. Judgment. Disgust. Amusement.
The perfect girl. The class president. The one who had everything together.
Destroyed.
And it was because of Max.
The thought had been growing for weeks.
If she hadn't liked him. If she hadn't invited him to that party. If he hadn't rejected her—
None of this would have happened.
People started targeting her because they saw her as weak. As rejected. As someone who could be torn down.
But if they had someone else—
Someone more vulnerable.
Someone with actual secrets.
Aiko pulled out her phone. Looked at her messages.
A group chat she'd been added to without permission. People she barely knew.
They were talking about her right now. Laughing.
Her fingers moved before she could stop them.
*You want to know something interesting about Max Whitmore?*
The chat went silent.
Then: *What?*
Aiko started typing.
Everything Max had told her. His family. His parents' affairs. His father's drinking. His mother's cruelty. His depression. The scars on his wrist he'd tried to hide. His therapist. The medications. His loneliness.
All of it.
She hit send.
Watched the messages deliver.
Watched the responses start flooding in.
*Holy shit*
*For real?*
*That explains so much*
*He's such a freak*
Aiko closed her phone.
Put it face down on the table.
Tried to ignore the feeling in her chest.
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Max was walking to class when he heard them.
Three students standing by the vending machines. Talking. Laughing.
He didn't know their names. Had never spoken to them.
But they were looking at him.
"—parents both cheating, that's so fucked up—"
"—on antidepressants since he was like fourteen—"
"—tried to kill himself, did you see that part—"
Max stopped walking.
His blood went cold.
"—wrist scars, someone should check if he's still—"
They noticed him. Stopped talking. Looked at each other. Started laughing harder.
Max turned around. Walked the other direction.
Behind him, the laughter continued.
His hands were shaking.
How did they—
Aiko.
The realization hit him like ice water.
She was the only one who knew. The only one he'd told.
Those late nights at the café. When they'd talked about more than just language. When he'd felt comfortable enough to share.
She'd told them.
Told everyone.
Max made it to the bathroom. Locked himself in a stall.
Sat down on the closed toilet.
Put his head in his hands.
Breathed.
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The next week was a blur.
Max stopped going to some classes. Couldn't face them.
When he did go, people stared. Whispered.
Someone had left a note on his desk.
*Does it still hurt? Do you want to finish the job?*
He'd thrown it away.
Another note appeared the next day.
His phone buzzed constantly. Unknown numbers. Messages.
*freak*
*psycho*
*go back to*
*finish what you started*
He turned his phone off.
In the hallway, people would see him coming and move aside. Like he was contaminated.
Some would make gestures across he passed.
Others just laughed.
Max heard that Aiko had stopped coming to class entirely.
That her bullying had gotten worse, not better.
That whatever she'd tried to do hadn't worked.
Now they were both targets.
Both destroyed.
He didn't feel vindicated. Just empty.
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Max was in the library when he overheard them.
Two students at the next table. Studying. Talking quietly.
"Did you hear about Yamamoto?"
"No, what?"
"She's dead."
Max's head snapped up.
"What?"
"Yeah. They found her this morning."
"Oh my god. How?"
"I don't know. Someone said—"
They lowered their voices. Max strained to hear.
"—jumped—"
"—pills maybe—"
"—her apartment—"
Max stood up. His chair scraped loudly.
Both students looked at him.
He stared back.
"What did you say?"
They exchanged glances.
"About Yamamoto?"
"Yes."
"She... she died. This morning."
The words didn't make sense.
Aiko.
Dead.
"How?"
"We don't know details. Just that she's gone."
Max's legs felt weak.
The library tilted slightly.
"Are you okay?" one of them asked.
Max didn't answer.
He grabbed his bag. Walked out.
Down the hallway. Outside.
The campus continued around him. People walking. Talking. Normal.
Aiko was dead.
Max sat down on a bench.
Stared at nothing.
His phone buzzed. He'd turned it back on an hour ago.
Messages flooding in.
*Did you hear about Yamamoto*
*She killed herself*
*This is your fault*
*You destroyed her*
*Murderer*
Max turned the phone off again.
Sat there.
The sun was shining.
Birds were singing.
Everything was normal.
Except Aiko was dead.
And everyone thought it was his fault.
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