Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 125: Chapter 46

The front door clicked shut as Yukina stepped into the apartment, the familiar scent of her home hitting her immediately.

“I’m back,” she called out, though she expected no response.

She kicked off her boots and headed straight for the kitchen to prepare dinner for her and her older sister.

But as she entered the kitchen, she caught a figure hunched over the table, eating an instant ramen who immediately froze seeing her.

It was her older sister, Watanabe Marika.

Marika was the polar opposite of Yukina’s flashy, gyaru aesthetic. She has a black hair that was a tangled nest that seems like it hadn’t seen a comb in forty-eight hours, and her purple eyes were bloodshot behind thick-rimmed glasses, framed by heavy, dark eyebags.

She wore a baggy white T-shirt that draped off one shoulder, stained with a single drop of soy sauce.

She looked every bit the shut-in otaku, the kind of person who forgot the sun existed and would probably feel like burning if exposed from a fresh air.

“Sis,” Yukina sighed, dropping her bag. “How many times have I told you? Those things are salt and preservatives. At least eat something green while I’m away.”

“S-sorry,” Marika muttered, slurping the last of her instant ramen with frantic speed before she set the cup down and tried to bolt. “I have to go! The manuscripts! The editor called three times and I think I heard her crying!”

Yukina’s hand shot out, snagging Marika by the back of her oversized collar. “The editor can wait thirty minutes. You’re taking a bath. You reek of sweat and ink.”

“Do I have to?” Marika looked back, her expression one of genuine, pathetic reluctance.

Yukina didn’t say a word. She simply narrowed her eyes, her gaze turning into the cold, predatory stare she had developed under the waterfall.

The sheer weight of her presence made Marika cower, her shoulders hunching as she nodded vigorously.

Yukina let out a soft sigh, her expression softening.

She loved her sister fiercely. Marika was the one who had sacrificed her youth to raise them after their parents passed, turning her hobby into a grueling career as a mangaka to pay for Yukina’s education and their home.

The least Yukina could do was ensure her sister didn’t wither away in a room full of G-pens and screen tones.

In the bathroom, the steam began to rise. Yukina helped her sister peel off the baggy shirt, and as the fabric fell away, Marika’s true silhouette was revealed.

Despite her sedentary lifestyle, Marika possessed a body that defied her “nerd” persona.

As the shirt dropped, the sheer volume of her chest, previously hidden by the loose cotton, bounced with heavy weight.

Yukina couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

She was arguably the most well-endowed among Seijirou’s circle, but Marika was in a league of her own—a cup or two larger, a hidden masterpiece beneath the mess.

“Yukina-chan… join me?” Marika asked softly, testing the water with her toe. “It’s been so long since we bathed together.”

Yukina nodded, shedding her own clothes. As she stepped into the light, her tattoo and the silver piercings on her nipples glinted under the bathroom light.

Marika’s tired eyes swept to the piercings and tattoo as she reached out a finger, hovering near the piercings. “You know, I want these too… they look so cool on you.”

“Nope. Not allowed, sis,” Yukina said firmly, pushing Marika down onto a small stool and grabbing the washcloth. “You have a reputation to uphold. You won’t be able to find a decent husband if you start looking like a delinquent’s masterpiece.”

“But you have them,” Marika pouted, her cheeks flushing as Yukina began to scrub her back with methodical care.

“I’m not planning on getting a husband,” Yukina replied, her voice steady. “I’m satisfied with being a mistress. My path is already set.”

She squeezed a dollop of shampoo into her hands, working it into a rich, fragrant lather before massaging it into Marika’s scalp.

“Then I can just be a mistress too,” Marika murmured, closing her eyes as the tension began to bleed out of her shoulders.

“No can do,” Yukina countered, her fingers firm. “You worked too hard for us. I won’t allow you to be a ’mere’ anything. Don’t be a no-good gyaru like me. I’m already beyond hopeless.”

The splashing of the water stopped.

Marika turned around suddenly, ignoring the soap suds sliding down her face. Her usually half-lidded eyes were wide and filled with a sudden, sharp determination.

“Don’t say that! You’re not hopeless. You’re the strongest, kindest person I know. You’re my sister, and I love you exactly as you are.”

Yukina blinked, the coldness of her “training” mask cracking for a moment. She offered a small, genuine smile. “I know. I know you do.”

Marika’s serious expression broke into a playful grin as she stood up, reaching for the sponge. “Well then! Since you’re so worried about my hygiene, let your big sis help you wash for a change. You’ve got muscles in places I didn’t even know humans had them!”

Yukina smirked, “Is that so? Then thank you, sis.”

*

*

*

Emi was humming a high-energy opening theme of the latest magical girl anime, the rhythm guiding her steps as she entered the convenience store.

A lollipop was tucked into the corner of her mouth, and her eyes were bright with a specific mission: a strategic stockpile for a late-night marathon.

She grabbed a plastic cart and moved with practiced efficiency through the aisles. 3 liters of cola, towers of spicy instant ramen, and several family-sized bags of potato chips were tossed in with a satisfying thud.

With her haul complete, she navigated to the checkout counter, only to freeze mid-stride.

Standing behind the register, dressed in the sterile, blue-and-white uniform of the store, was a face from a past Emi had tried to bury.

Emi couldn’t recall her full name immediately—the memory was shrouded in the fog of middle school trauma—but the name Nanashi surfaced.

She had once been the ringleader of Emi’s bullying, the girl whose laughter was the loudest when Emi was being shoved into lockers or had her shoes hidden.

Nanashi looked up, her eyes widening as she recognized the girl, who now looked completely different from middle school.

She didn’t say anything at first, her hands trembling slightly as she began scanning Emi’s mountain of snacks. The beep of the scanner was the only sound in the tense silence.

“It’s 2,819 yen in total,” Nanashi said, her voice quiet and lacking any of its former sharp arrogance.

Emi hummed, the lollipop stick bobbing between her lips.

She didn’t look away, nor did she flinch, she simply took out her wallet and handed over the bills.

Nanashi counted the change with mechanical precision and handed it back, her fingers brushing Emi’s for a fraction of a second.

Emi pocketed the coins, grabbed her heavy plastic bags, and turned to leave. She had a new anime episode airing in an hour; she didn’t have time for ghosts.

“Itoshi-san, please wait!” Nanashi called out, leaning over the counter.

Emi tilted her head, looking back over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“My shift… Is about to end,” Nanashi said, her gaze darting to the floor. “If you have the time… can you wait for me outside? I just… I really wanted to talk to you.”

Emi pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time before she gave a short, sharp nod and walked out, taking a seat on a wooden bench under the flickering neon sign of the store.

Ten minutes later, the chime of the door signaled Nanashi’s exit. She now had traded her uniform for a plain, worn hoodie and jeans.

She sat on the far end of the bench, looking at the cracks in the pavement.

Emi suddenly bit down on her lollipop, the hard candy shattering with a loud crack.

She threw the white plastic stick into a nearby trash bin and turned to the other girl. “What’s up? I’ve got a schedule to keep.”

Nanashi offered a sad, weary smile. “I just wanted to talk to an ’old friend.’ See how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing fine,” Emi replied, her tone neutral. “But you… you’re the last person I expected to see working a graveyard shift. Wasn’t your family into real estate? You used to brag about your dad’s sports cars every single day.”

Nanashi’s smile turned wry, tinged with a bitter irony. “During our third year in middle school, the business went bankrupt. Everything went under—the house, the cars, the reputation. We lost it all in six months.”

Emi raised an eyebrow.

Back then, she remembered telling Seijirou about the bullying. She wondered, for a brief second, if he had pulled strings behind the scenes to crush Nanashi’s family legacy, but she kept the thought to herself.

“After we lost the money,” Nanashi continued, “I realized how shallow my world was. The ’friends’ who used to follow me around like shadows didn’t even acknowledge me in the hallway. I became the target instead. I learned what it felt like to be on the other side of the locker door.”

Emi remained silent, listening to the hum of the city.

“But… it wasn’t all bad,” Nanashi said, her voice regaining some strength. “I learned how to appreciate things I used to ignore. I learned how to work hard. I learned how to be responsible. I think… I can proudly say I’ve finally grown as a person.”

She turned toward Emi, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she took a deep breath and bowed her head low, her hair shielding her face.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s years too late, and I know I don’t deserve it, but I needed you to know that I regret everything I did to you. I was a monster, Emi.”

Emi stood up, the plastic bags of snacks crinkling in her grip as she looked down at the girl who had once made her life a living hell.

“Did you know? Because of what you and your friends did, I suffered more than I can put into words. There were days I didn’t want to wake up.”

Nanashi’s shoulders shook, her head dropping lower in shame.

“But,” Emi continued, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “because of those dark days, I found the strength to look for a place where I belonged. I met friends who actually cherish me. And I met the man I love—the man who taught me that my life has value. If I hadn’t gone through that, I wouldn’t be the person standing here now. So, a long time ago, I decided that if any of you ever apologized… I would forgive you.”

She reached out and patted Nanashi’s shoulder, a brief, light touch that seemed to break the heavy tension of the past. “There’s no need to carry that weight anymore, Nanashi. We aren’t those kids anymore.”

With that, Emi turned to walk away.

Nanashi stood up and stared at her back and bowed, “Thank you, for forgiving me.”

Just then, Emi paused as she looked back at the girl who had bowed and thanked her. “Hey. Is your contact info still the same?”

Nanashi blinked, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Y-yes. I haven’t changed my number since then.”

Emi flashed a bright, gentle smile. “I see. Then we should hang out sometime. Only if you want to, though.

Nanashi was startled into silence, before a beautiful, relieved smile broke across her face—the first real smile Emi had ever seen on her. “I would love to, Emi! Really!”

Emi waved a hand dismissively as she walked toward her apartment, her heart now feeling lighter than the air.