I Married the Girl Who Used to Bully Me - Chapter 21

Why, why, why, why—the same words crumble apart in my chest over and over. I don’t understand. After being so careful, after meticulously crafting every move, the footage of me mocking Misaki, my voice taunting her with laughter, has spread to every corner of the internet in an instant.

On the screen, I’m effortlessly tossing out scorn. Hey, you’ve got a nice body, huh? Doing some sugar-daddy work? My laughing face plays back coldly, mercilessly. Even if I submit takedown requests, they won’t be removed immediately.

And in that time, the fire keeps spreading. Anger and frustration churn in my chest, twisting into a tangled mess. Damn it, damn it, damn it…

It’s already trending online. On video sites, the clip of me bullying her appears every fifth scroll without fail.

The comments are a whirlpool of insults, mockery, and jeers. My phone won’t stop ringing—my hangers-on calling nonstop, my manager’s voice echoing endlessly.

“I always knew she was a bully.”
“Rumor has it she’s into sugar daddies too.”
“Congrats on ruining your life~ lol”
“The guys who simped for her must be dying rn~ lol”
“She was about to get on TV too, what a waste. Stupid bitch.”
“Her face and personality are both trash lol”
“300K followers and this is what she does… hilarious.”
“Apparently this vid’s getting saved everywhere.”
“All the guys who called her cute are flipping on her now lol”
“Get rekt lololol”
“What’s next? Can’t wait~”

Every word of praise I ever received has vanished without a sound.

The voices that once called me cute, that said they loved me, that laughed with me—now they’ve turned into blades to cut me down.

The mocking faces on the other side of the screen carve into my chest.

You’ve gotta be kidding me…! Why… why is this happening…?!

Why… why do I have to suffer like this? My voice shakes. My throat burns, and I can’t breathe right.

I’ve lived seriously. Properly.

I’ve never caused trouble for anyone.

So why is it always me?

This isn’t right. It can’t be. The world is unfair.

“Oh, right!”

I lift my head as if struck by inspiration.

Those pigs who surrounded me, those hot guys, those old men—they’ll help me.

Heh, of course they will. I’m cute. They all said they loved me, didn’t they?

Clutching my phone, I send messages with trembling fingers.

One after another. Waiting for the read receipts.

…But not a single one appears.

“Huh? What the hell…?”

They always replied in seconds before.

But now, not one of them responds.

“You bastards…!”

I bite my lip. Anger and betrayal melt together in my throat, a sticky, suffocating mess.

The hot influencer guys I had connections with? Too scared of the backlash to even message. The sugar daddies who were supposed to throw money at me? Ignoring my messages. The second things got inconvenient, they cut me off.

You pieces of shit… You’re trash, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, DIE.

You’re not even human!!

You’re demons, demons!!

I try messaging classmates, but no one answers. Hey, why!? Why won’t you reply?!

The class group chat is gone—deleted. Am I the only one erased from it?!

My so-called friends? Ignoring me, ignoring me, ignoring me!! You’re seeing this, you’re seeing it, so why won’t you answer?!

SCREW YOU ALL!!

I fling my phone without thinking. The sound of it shattering pierces my skull, the broken screen fragments glittering like they’re laughing at me.

Haha, it’s hilarious, isn’t it? How easily everything breaks—my place in the world, the words of the people I trusted—DAMN IT, SCREW YOU ALL!!

Since that day, the scandal spread like wildfire. The moment I step outside, I feel eyes stabbing into me. In front of the convenience store, on the train—everyone laughing at their phones must be talking about me.

I’m being laughed at. Exposed. Nowhere to run.

In this tiny country called Japan, once a fire starts, it never goes out. This is a public execution.

School is no different.

Graffiti in my desk, trash in my locker. Whispers loud enough to hear as I pass: “You see that video?” “Isn’t it insane?”

The people who used to orbit me? Scattered like baby spiders fleeing a nest.

They’re scared of the backlash. They don’t want to get dragged down with me.

The same ones who used to chant “Chinatsu-chan is the best!” are now laughing at me on their secret accounts.

—Screw you.

The offer for that dating show? Gone.

The producer who gushed “We’re counting on you!” in that sickly sweet voice? Now radio silence.

I groveled, I worked so hard, I had everything within reach…

And now it’s all… burned to ash.

My phone won’t stop buzzing. Insults, harassment, someone’s malice.

The intercom rings. Over and over, annoyingly persistent. Who the hell is it at this hour?

My phone screen is still flooded with notifications. My address, family info, my school—all leaked. Probably by some losers who hate me, jumping on the bandwagon.

“Her house is here, apparently.” “Went to check it out.” “Her parents are guilty too, right?”

Posts like that keep pouring in. Laughing. Casual.

The internet’s self-proclaimed “justice warriors” act like they’re the heroes of some drama, cornering me.

I’ve been holed up at home for days. Why, why is it only me? The same question spins endlessly in my chest. The outside air feels distant. Even the light slipping through the curtains just pisses me off.

The answer narrows to one thing.

The root of it all is him—Itsuki. Misaki’s boyfriend, Itsuki.

If not for him, I’d be living a different life. If not for him, I’d be with some hot rich guy, sailing smoothly through life. Those what-ifs multiply in my head every night.

That’s right, I’ll kill him. At the very least,  I’ll drag him down with me.

My legs won’t move as I grip the knife. Cold clings to my fingertips, the edges of the world narrowing like a tightened noose. The moment I try to step outside, a voice like thunder cracks through the house.

“KAHOU!! What the hell did you do?!”

Mom’s face is pure fury. She must have chased me—standing in the hallway, her face drained of color, none of her usual softness left.

Dad stands at the living room entrance too, his usual calm gone, only a cold outline remaining.

My grip on the knife tightens instinctively. I didn’t want anyone to see. But it’s too late. Mom steps forward, voice shaking as she corners me.

“Don’t screw around. Your video is the talk of my workplace too! I’m too ashamed to even go outside!”

Her eyes glow red. Before she can say “Get out, Kahou!”, Dad’s low voice cuts in first.

“Kahou, leave this house.”

“Huh? …Why?!”

“I really wonder where we went wrong raising you.”

Screw you.

Why, why is it only me suffering like this?

Since the day I was literally thrown out of the house, I’ve been living like a rolling stone. Everywhere I go, my face is exposed online, pointed at by strangers. Every laugh from a passerby feels like it’s about me.

“Look, it’s that girl who got canceled.”

In a tiny internet café booth, only the monitor’s pale light illuminates my face.

The blanket is thin, the air dusty. Laughter and mouse clicks drift from the next booth.

I catch my reflection in the screen and suddenly laugh. Dark circles under my eyes, hair a mess. The “influencer Chinatsu” from back then is nowhere to be found.

I have no money.

But living costs money.

So, I head to the nightlife district.

Under the cold sky, neon lights washing over me, I push open a club’s door.

Caking on makeup, masking myself with cheap perfume.

“It’s just work,” I tell myself, but somewhere inside, I hear something breaking.

On the way back, the night wind stings.

I catch my reflection in a store window and my breath catches.

—Where did I go wrong?

Gaining followers, being praised, getting attention, being fawned over. It just felt good, that’s all.

That was it.

“Why… why could I laugh back then?”

The moment I say it out loud, tears streak down my cheeks.

They won’t stop.

Even though no one’s watching, it feels like someone is—so I lower my head again.

My phone doesn’t buzz anymore.

No DMs, no comments.

But if I search, my name still comes up.

“Chinatsu canceled” “Chinatsu sugar baby” “Chinatsu downfall”

Words that might as well be my whole life.

I whisper softly.

“…Hey, someone help me.”

But the only reply is the low hum of the air conditioner.

The world isn’t looking at me anymore.