Love Is The Most Twisted Curse | Suguru Geto

Chapter 11: Cold Mess

The weight of the world had settled deep into Suguru’s bones, carving exhaustion into every muscle. The mission had been long, grueling—a relentless hunt for curses that had multiplied like vermin in the wake of disaster.

If someone asked, he would not speak of that day. He could not. Even as a special grade sorcerer, he could not find the words to describe the sight of Haibara's life slipping away, the helplessness that had choked him as he stood, incapable of saving his junior. Just as he had been incapable of saving her—not in their childhood, not now.

So he had drowned himself in duty, in endless battles, in the desperate pursuit of something that might silence the voices clawing at the walls of his mind. They whispered accusations, bitter and cruel. How can you save anyone when you couldn't even save her? What worth did his beliefs hold if they had crumbled so easily? Why fight for those who would never see them as human?

Back in his room for the first time in weeks, Suguru did not pause to gather himself. He discarded his bag onto the bed and walked into the washroom, turning on the shower without shedding his clothes. The water soaked through fabric, tracing his skin like ghostly fingers, but it did nothing to cleanse him. The filth clung to him, the curses he had absorbed like bile in his throat.

He alone knew the taste of them, a putrid sensation that reminded him of swallowing something that was never meant to be consumed. He had done this since he was a child.

For who?

That question haunted him, looping through his thoughts like a cursed incantation. He had chosen this life, knowing its horrors. He had steeled himself against it. And yet—

"Do not flinch. A special grade sorcerer must carry out their duty."

The words belonged to a memory, to a voice from his past. But now, they only rang hollow.

For whom would he sacrifice himself?

For those who didn’t even see them as human?

"Fucking monkeys," he muttered under his breath, the fury curdling in his veins.

His knuckles met the wall, a violent collision that sent a sharp jolt of pain up his arm. But before he could sink deeper into the abyss of his own torment, a voice called his name.

A voice so achingly familiar, so painfully missed.

He had avoided her all these months, not because he wanted to, but because he could not face her. Not when his mind was a battlefield of doubts, not when his heart ached with the knowledge of their past—something she did not know he remembered.

Yet, here she was. And as he turned toward her, regret slammed into him like a tidal wave.

She had not changed. She was as stunning as ever, and yet, the fear in her eyes was new.

It struck him like a knife to the gut.

No. No, don't look at me like that.

He wanted to see anything in her eyes—anger, sadness, longing—but not fear. Never fear.

Because her fear was the one thing in this world he could not bear.

Still, even now, she was his weakness.

Even if the world turned her against him, even if they stood on opposite sides of a battle, he knew one thing for certain—

He could never hurt her.

If the world tried to take her from him, he would burn it all down.

Sayuri rushed toward him, concern laced in every step, ignoring the water still cascading around them. She did not flinch, even as she grasped his wounded hand with gentle fingers.