The Heroines All Regretted It

"Please… stop… don't tickle me…"

"I-I can't stand it… it's too much… ahahaha…"

"Hahaha… I can't breathe…"

Eriri had long since cried herself dry. Her throat burned as she tried to suppress her voice.

She had never felt this humiliated in her life.

"I'd rather you hit me… ah… please…"

"Don't tickle me anymore… I'm… dying of laughter…"

A proud young lady like Eriri, who hated being tickled more than anything, was now reduced to a mess on the floor. Her dignity was in pieces.

Yoru finally seemed tired of it. He let go of the collapsed Eriri, dragging her by the twin-tails to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"Hmm…"

He took out a bottle of sparkling water and drank most of it, then looked down at the dazed girl with disinterest.

That was enough of a physical lesson—for now.

He felt calmer, but it wasn't over.

She had destroyed his reputation, and now he wanted to return the favor.

'What's inside this treasure chest, I wonder…'

He looked at the golden system chest as its progress bar filled quickly.

Before closing the fridge, he glanced at Eriri again—still lying there blankly.

He grabbed another bottle of water, opened the cap, knelt down, and gently held it to her dry, blooded lips.

"Drink," Yoru said softly.

Eriri's blank blue eyes widened. She couldn't believe it.

Yoru gave a small nod.

After a long hesitation, she finally took a few sips.

Now, it was time to get serious.

…

"Open your mouth."

Yoru ordered, not caring about her consent. He forced her mouth open and shoved in a rug.

The odd taste caught her off guard. Her eyes widened.

"Don't want to damage those teeth," Yoru muttered.

Eriri: "???"

"Get up."

He pulled her up by her hair and twin-tails until she was standing.

She didn't understand what he was doing—until he raised his hand and placed it against her cheek.

Only then did she realize—he was threatening to slap her.

His large palm was nearly the size of her entire face. If he hit her with full force, it would be dangerous.

Eriri flinched, trying to dodge.

Yoru didn't restrain her tightly—he just held her by one twin-tail.

"Don't move. I'll hit once. Dodge again and it'll be twice."

His frown deepened, and his voice carried weight.

"Mm-mm… please…"

She shook her head frantically, tears forming again.

But as his palm came closer, she tensed up, closed her eyes, and braced herself.

Her toes curled involuntarily inside her stockings—her whole body on edge.

Yoru smiled faintly.

He wasn't actually going to hit her.

"Don't flinch. If I hit your ear or skull, it'll be bad."

"Also, your family's 20 million yen—it's nothing."

"My family donated the same amount just to get me into Shuchiin Academy."

"You think your 20 million makes us equal? Not even close."

His cold voice pierced her ears.

Before Eriri could react, his palm swept past her face with a loud "smack."

But he hadn't hit her.

He had clapped his own hands right next to her ear to startle and humiliate her—just to frighten the girl who had always looked down on him.

"Sawamura…"

He released her hair, letting her stand on her own.

But then—she fainted.

Yes, she passed out cold.

"Seriously? Just from that?" Yoru blinked and crouched down to check her.

The proud blonde heiress now lay crumpled on the cold floor, face twisted in fear.

Yoru carefully pulled the cloth from her mouth. Her teeth were unharmed, but her cheek was red from where it had bumped the floor.

Nothing permanent. That was good.

If her parents came back and noticed real injuries, he'd be in serious trouble.

"Whew… not done yet though~"

He glanced at the golden treasure chest hovering above her head.

After a short rest, Yoru grabbed his bag and carried Eriri upstairs.

He brought her into her room, locking the door behind them.

Just a precaution—he didn't want her escaping if she woke up suddenly.

"What a huge room. It even connects to the balcony."

He tossed her to the floor and turned on the light.

He didn't bother snooping through her personal things. That wasn't his style.

Instead, he sat down, pulled out his phone, and scrolled through news articles.

Night fell.

Around 8 p.m., Eriri slowly woke up.

Her left cheek, swollen from the fall, throbbed painfully as she opened her eyes.

"You're awake?"

Yoru said casually, releasing her arms with a courteous smile.

The treasure chest's progress was almost done. Something good was definitely coming.

"Hngh… you…"

As soon as she heard his voice, Eriri curled up against the wall in panic, remembering everything in an instant.

She immediately checked herself—nothing felt out of place. Her body was unharmed.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and gently touched her swollen face.

Yoru didn't pay her much attention.

Instead, he opened his backpack and tossed out a thick stack of medical documents—hospital records, lab results, X-rays, even post-surgery photos.

"Now, let's settle the second debt."

He gestured toward the pile.

"All of this…"

Eriri shrank back in fear, glancing at him, then cautiously looked at the documents.

The first page was a photo of Yoru under general anesthesia, surrounded by doctors and nurses, electrodes all over him.

He'd asked for it to be taken.

"This is…"

She didn't want to keep looking, but his gaze compelled her.

Lab reports, positive test results, complicated prescription lists—over 70 pages in total.

When she finished, she looked up in stunned silence.

It was clear this was all related to Yoru's surgery.

"Heh…"

Yoru gave a strange laugh and peeled off his shirt, revealing his chest.

He stood over Eriri like a mountain, showing her the long, curved scar across his torso.

"Ah—! You freak! Pervert! Get away from me!"

Eriri shielded her eyes instinctively.

"Take a good look. Two incisions—thanks to you."

Yoru's breath was heavy, and his tone deadly serious.

When Eriri heard that, her first reaction was confusion.

What did she do this time?

But hearing that someone had undergone heart surgery twice, that it sounded serious and even life-threatening, she instinctively looked up.

"Look."

Yoru puffed out his chest.

Two faint reddish scars across his chest were clearly visible under the light.

Eriri's innocent eyes were filled with confusion.

"You borrowed my umbrella and never returned it. I had to walk home in a storm."

"It was pitch black, the rain wouldn't stop, and I couldn't see the road clearly. I slipped several times, walking through the storm barely able to breathe..."

"When the skies completely darkened, the rain kept pouring. I had no choice but to curl up in a dirty public bathroom corner, shivering, and didn't get home until past nine."

"I came down with a fever, runny nose, constant coughing. My immune system weakened..."

"When I went to find you to get the umbrella back, you called me a disgusting pig and rolled your eyes at me…"

"Do you know why I didn't show up to school since that morning?"

"It's because you upset me so badly, I developed high blood pressure and fell ill. My immunity collapsed. After you left, I had trouble breathing and almost passed out. In the end, I had to be rushed to the hospital. If I hadn't been, I might not have made it."

"I was hospitalized for over one and half a month. Two heart procedures. Countless medications. Endless suffering. And it was all because of you."

…

Yoru enunciated each word slowly and clearly, glaring at Eriri as if to force her to meet his gaze.

Eriri had never imagined any of this had happened.

"I… I thought the rain stopped quickly... didn't it…?"

She trembled, her face pale.

She swore to herself she had no idea.

She hadn't realized that her actions had hurt Yoru this deeply.

That he ended up in the hospital, in pain, because of her…

Eriri, deep down, wasn't a bad person. She was just stubborn, prideful, and prone to impulsive outbursts.

But she still knew right from wrong.

Yoru, reading her thoughts, heard it all.

But so what?

"That's enough. Save your tears—I don't need them. Look up."

Yoru pulled out a second-hand Sony camcorder from his backpack and pointed it at Eriri.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily.

Seeing the overweight guy holding a camera, her mind instantly conjured up scenes from stories her peers in the doujin community had created.

"Confess. Say clearly what you did—how you stole from Kasumigaoka Utaha. I need to clear my name."

Yoru let out a breath. He was starting to feel hungry.

What should he have for dinner?

"This…"

Eriri collapsed to the floor, no longer caring about the pain in her body.

If Yoru used that video to clear himself, she'd be ruined.

But if she refused now…

She'd still be ruined.

"I'll give you three seconds to think about it," Yoru said, holding up three fingers.

He immediately bent one down.

"I… I'll talk to Kasumigaoka Utaha. Please, don't do this…" Eriri pleaded, gritting her teeth.

"You hesitate even when asked to do the bare minimum to make up for what you did? Pathetic."

Yoru scoffed.

"No… absolutely not… I'll be finished…"

"I'm already ruined. I don't have your family background. I'm not a cute girl. You'll be able to move somewhere new and start fresh…"

Yoru narrowed his eyes.

"I'll explain things to Kasumigaoka Utaha, and I'll compensate you. Please…"

Eriri started crying again. Was this still the same proud heiress from before?

"I'll agree. I'll let you record it as evidence so you can explain things—but you have my word, I won't spread it. After all, you're only speaking under pressure."

Yoru's tone was calm.

Eriri froze, then nodded furiously.

That seemed reasonable!

"Then let's begin."

Yoru took a few steps back and lifted the camcorder, pointing it at the arrogant heiress, now huddled pitifully in a corner, bruised and disheveled.

"Beep—"

Recording started.

Eriri froze.

She stared at the overweight man with a camera aimed at her, while she sat collapsed on the ground in a pitiful state.

He'd barged in, overwhelmed her, forced her into this corner and now made her face the camera…

Her mind, still trained in drawing "those kinds" of stories, spiraled out of control again.

She opened her trembling lips, still stained from dried tears and blood.

A few minutes later.

Eriri closed her eyes and let tears roll down her cheeks under the warm yellow glow of the lights, filled with mixed, complicated emotions.

"Not bad," Yoru murmured, exhaling.

But it wasn't enough.

He kept the camera rolling.

"Now, apologize."

"I'm sorry… I'm truly sorry… please forgive me…"

Eriri opened her eyes and, in a cracked and unsteady voice, apologized to the grotesque figure standing boldly in her once-private room.

Her previously clear, cute voice had turned hoarse and weak.

"That's your apology? Do you even realize how much pain you caused me?"

Yoru frowned.

If he'd had more ways to restrain her, he definitely would've pushed things even further.

That said—the progress bar above the golden chest had soared. It was now well over halfway.

Hearing his words, Eriri realized her apology wasn't enough. She bowed her head and apologized again—this time with sincerity.

Would an apology fix anything? If so, why would the police exist?

Yoru didn't care about justice.

He just wanted to humiliate her.

"Kneel properly. Do a proper apology pose—hands down, head low. You know the form, right?"

Yoru shook his head.

"You… jerk!"

"Ow… that hurts…"

Eriri nearly cursed but stopped herself just in time.

The kneeling posture he wanted—known in Japan as dogeza—represented surrendering everything: pride, dignity, and the self, all in exchange for forgiveness.

It was like a dog begging its master for a treat.

And Yoru wanted her—Eriri, a proud, elite heiress—to do that in front of him.

She was humiliated, furious, and yet… she knew it wasn't unreasonable.

But could a girl raised in luxury and status truly lower herself to that extent?

Yoru didn't rush her. He didn't even look her way.

He just stood there, wondering what he'd eat for dinner. He was genuinely hungry.

Should he celebrate this victory a little?

He hadn't even celebrated when he activated Kasumigaoka Utaha's golden chest or got discharged from the hospital.

Eriri remained on the ground, locked in a mental struggle.

Eventually, she convinced herself.

If she didn't do this…

She'd suffer even worse consequences.

Fear overtook pride. Her tiny frame trembled as she slowly leaned forward.

Both palms and forearms pressed tightly to the floor, fingers splayed, her entire body forming a straight line.

She lowered her proud head at an agonizing pace—like time slowed down—until her forehead gently touched the back of her hands.

Her face turned crimson from the shame and anger.

"I don't remember that pose being so half-hearted. Aren't you supposed to raise your hips a little more?"

Yoru felt a surge of vindictive satisfaction as he approached her with the camera, filming from every angle.

He wanted to leave her no room to forget this moment.

That was the only way she'd always fear him—to maintain that delicate balance between revenge and control.

"If only that chest gave something useful…"

Yoru mused to himself again.

Eriri, in that posture, had abandoned all pride. She wasn't acting arrogant anymore. Instead, she was just quietly following orders.

She raised her hips slightly, even though she knew she didn't have to.

It was clear Yoru was humiliating her on purpose.

[He grabbed my twin-tails… forced me to make a confession on camera… now this… and he even called me cute… super cute…]

[It's so late… he must've known my parents aren't in Japan tonight… did he find out from the news?]