Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 107: Chapter 28

Emi sat quietly on the cold wrought-iron bench, the pool of yellow light from the overhead lampost acting as her only sanctuary against the encroaching darkness.

She tilted her head back, her blank, dull eyes reflecting the brilliant, uncaring glow of the full moon.

The night was eerily still, the kind of silence that usually preceded a storm, but for Emi, this silence was an old, intimate friend.

This was the place. The site of her greatest humiliation, the anchor of her deepest shame, and the graveyard of her childhood innocence.

Communication had always been a labyrinth Emi couldn’t navigate. While other children traded secrets and laughter, Emi traded stutters and frozen silences.

Her face, naturally stoic, often betrayed her; whenever she tried to force a smile or a greeting, it came out as a twitch or a grimace, leading her peers to believe she was mocking them or looking down on them.

She was the “weird girl,” the girl who lived in the back of the classroom, invisible until she became a target.

In her second year of middle school, she thought the universe had finally taken pity on her when a group of popular girls had invited her into their circle.

Emi had been so desperate for the warmth of belonging that she ignored the red flags—the snickers when she turned her back, the way they made her carry their bags, the cruel nicknames disguised as “inside jokes.”

At that time, Emi actually had a crush on their class’s most popular boy, the kind of guy who was smart and great at sports.

And when her ’friends’ began discussing about their ’boyfriends’ and ’dates’ and how ’it hurts’ when they had done it, Emi had confessed that she had a crush on the class’s golden boy just to fit in.

They stared at her in silence, before erupting into laughter. She doesn’t know what that meant then, she thought that they simply were delighted that she had joined in on their conversations.

They then told her that her crush also likes her back, that he has been watching her from afar, that he was just too shy to approach her, and that if she wanted to, they can arrang a secret date at this very park.

Emi was so excited, not noticing the mocking expression of her ’friends’ and agreed to them.

She had spent three hours getting ready, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She sat on this very bench, clutching a small gift, ignoring the biting wind and the passing hours.

She never knew that they were all there, hidden in the treeline with their phones out, recording her lonely vigil.

She didn’t know that every time she checked her watch or fixed her hair, they were erupting in silent laughter, preparing to upload her “delusions” to the school’s group chat.

Hours had passed before the realization finally began to sink in, and immediately a cold, heavy weight had settled in her stomach.

By the time she got home and saw the videos online, her world had already ended.

The next day after that, she was about to ask her “friends” for explanations; why had they done that? But what greeted her was a cruel bullying and humiliation.

She became the school’s punching bag, the “delusional freak” who thought she had a chance with a prince.

Her world shattered, and she had finally given up hope of actually having friends. For an entire year after that, she endured bullying, she endured having glue in her locker and whispers in the hallways.

And when she became a third year, she thought that the bullying would simply continue…but she didn’t expect for a miracle to actually happen.

She met and befriended Yukina and Suzune.

They were the first people to ever look at her and see a person, not a punchline.

She was sceptical at first, her heart already closed. She doesn’t want to open it up again only to end up getting crushed.

But when she realized they weren’t joking, that they truly wanted to be her friends, Emi had wept until her chest ached.

It was that debt of gratitude that fueled her desire to help Suzune when her father died later that year.

But Emi, despite her loyalty, was powerless against the void of depression. No matter what she did, Suzune couldn’t get over her depression.

Then, Seijirou arrived…and Suzune had returned to her normal, cheerful and bright personality. The Suzune who had saved her.

At first, Emi viewed Seijirou through a lens of extreme skepticism. After all, he is an infamous delinquent and an even more infamous womanizer.

Surely, he was just another predator sensing blood in the water.

But when Suzune confessed that she had practically offered herself to him and he had turned her down to prioritize her emotional recovery, Emi’s guard began to crumble.

Not only that, Seijirou was so charming and gentle that it made Emi question whether he really was as bad as the rumors say.

Seijirou also the only person who seemed to see through Emi’s “short circuits” and social anxiety, and he had been very patient with her, not judging her when she stutters or freeze up.

The night the following day, Emi had gone out late to a convenience store to buy some instant ramen to go with her anime marathon, her usual comforts.

But at that moment, she found Seijirou standing in the glow of the store’s neon sign, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

He looked “melancholic,” a masterfully crafted facade of sadness that drew Emi in like a moth to a flame. She actually wanted to just greet him and go on her way, but found herself captivated by his ’sad’ appearance.

It made her think, ’This person is just like me’.

He spoke of how he hated how people view him, of how he hated that people judged him for his appearance, and how he is happy that she, Yukina, and Suzune, had been willing to believe in him.

Emi had felt a deep sense of pity and relatability, and before she knew it, she was spilling her entire history of pain into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.

She tried to laugh it off, to run back to her safe, quiet life, but he stopped her.

He told her they were the same, two pairs of lonely souls seeking comfort, and that she didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Emi couldn’t exactly remember what Seijirou said to her that night, all she remembered was following behind him until they arrived at a hotel room.

And that night was a blur of newfound sensations and a reckless, terrifying abandonment of her own rules.

She gave him her virginity not because she was “in love” in the traditional sense, but because she was already planning on giving it to her crush if the date had actually turned out to be real.

For her, it doesn’t really mean anything, but she had heard that boys really liked it when they are the first man that a girl has been with.

Back then, Emi has zero confidence about herself, and she was thinking of what to do to make her crush treasure her if they ever worked out, and the answer she came up with was only her body.

And since it didn’t work out, Emi has no qualms on giving it to Seijirou. After all, back then, she was no longer planning on falling in love once again.

And since she was no longer planning on falling in love, what use was her virginity for? To make her a sage? She might as well give it to the man who desired her.

That same night, under the haze of post-coital bliss, he even talked her into the giving piercings, the silver bar through her navel and the hidden rings in her breasts.

Thinking back, she had been appalled at her choices.

And unlike Yukina, Emi doesn’t like the piercings on her nipples, and would leave them home, keeping only the one in her navel.

Emi stared at the moon, a small, soft smile playing on her lips.

Honestly, she thought that it was a one time thing, but she was surprised that Seijirou would call her and invite her to go out with him from time to time.

She had thought that every call was just for them to have sex, for him to relieve his sexual frustration, but she was surprised that it was mostly them just hanging around, with him showing her places he frequently hang out to, and her showing him places she always hang out to.

In fact, Emi had noticed that their ’date’ would only end in sex whenever she was in the mood. As if Seijirou knew exactly when she wants to do it, or when she wasn’t interested.

If that day she doesn’t feel like doing it, the day would end with Seijirou just driving her home, but whenever she feels like doing it, even when she didn’t say anything, Seijirou would either take her to a hotel or bring her to his home.

And before she realised it, Emi had grown conscious of her image whenever she was with Seijirou.

You see, Emi is someone with zero fashion sense. For her, as long as she doesn’t have any bad odor, and she took care of her hygiene, then what she wears or what she looks like doesn’t matter.

But the more she spends her time, the more she pays attention to her image.

She learned how to dress up, she learned how paint her nails, she learned how to do make up, she learned how to be stylish, she had even began to eat healthy instead of almost instant ramens and cola.

She even began to sleep early and wake up early, going to the gym, and she had even cut her hair short because she had heard Seijirou commented how it would suit her.

Before she knew it, the “weird girl” that people made fun of had vanished, replaced by a striking, modern beauty who commanded attention.

The most bitter irony came when her second year crush, the boy who had helped record her humiliation, approached her during the end of the school year.

He apologized to her, told her she was beautiful, and confessed his “feelings”, hoping that they can start fresh.

In another life, Emi might have accepted.

She might have cried tears of joy that her dream had finally come true, but as she looked at him, she felt nothing but a cold, distant pity.

He was a boy playing at being a man, while Seijirou was a force of nature that had already consumed her whole.

For Emi, Suzune and Yukina were the ones to save her from loneliness, but it was Seijirou who made her love, made her to be the better version of herself, made her truly escape from her past.

“….Too late,” she whispered to the empty park. “You’re just a ghost. He’s the one who gave me a soul.”

She stood up, the metal of her navel piercing cold against her skin. She bit her lip, tasting copper, and let the drop of blood fall onto the concrete under the lampost.

“I am Itoshi Emi,” she declared to the shadows. “I have no pride left to give. I have no shame left to hide. I offer you whatever it is your price. Just give me the power to continue to stay by his side.”

The streetlamp above her flickered and died.

The moonlight turned a sickly, bruised purple, and the shadows of the trees began to stretch toward her like reaching fingers.