The Sinful Liar - Shohei Ohtani x Reader.

Chapter 30: Too far gone

Lars stares at the water, his fingers idly swirling patterns on the pool's edge.

When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, careful, like he's peeling back a layer of himself that's long been buried.

"I lost my brother there," he says after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air, heavy and unshakable.

"Lars..." I breathe, my heart aching for him.

He doesn't look at me. His gaze stays fixed on the water, his knuckles white as his fingers grip the pool's edge. "It was seven years ago. I was nineteen, home from Angels stadium for the summer."

A ghost of a smile flickers across his face, gone as quickly as it appeared. "We were supposed to go to this... family event, you know, the kind where everyone pretends to like each other. I didn't want to go, so Liam—he offered to take me somewhere else. Just the two of us. Said we'd have more fun sneaking off."

His voice catches, and he swallows hard.

"We were driving along the coast, arguing about something stupid. I don't even remember what it was now. And then... the car comes out of nowhere."

"They forced us off the road. The people who did it—they wanted leverage. Money."

Right, he's from a wealthy family. Kidnapping the two sons of a billionaire hoping to get some sort of ransom would be easy money for them. I squeeze his hand lightly, unable to keep the pity from my expression. Lars takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, still staring at the water.

"They took us," he continues, his tone mechanical now, like he's recounting a story that doesn't quite feel like his own. "Shoved us into a car and drove off. Liam—he kept telling me to stay calm, that we'd get out of it."

Lars pauses, his breath shaky. "At some point, they lost control of the car. It swerved, went straight into the water." His fingers press harder against the edge, as if grounding himself. "I was stuck. Trapped in the back seat. I can hardly breath."

I can't help myself—I reach out, placing a hand on his arm. He doesn't pull away, but he doesn't look at me either.

"Liam," he says, his voice breaking now. "He broke the window, dragged me out, and swam to the surface."

Tears well in my eyes as I watch him fight to keep his composure.

"He saved me," Lars whispers, his voice trembling. "But I couldn't save him. I just... I watched. I yelled for him to come up, but he never did."

I feel a lump rise in my throat, my own memories stirring. My father's laughter, his steady hands steering the boat, the way the ocean swallowed him up and left nothing behind.

The pain in Lars's voice cuts through me, not just because of his loss, but because I understand.

"Lars," I whisper, my voice trembling.

He finally looks at me, his eyes glossy and distant, filled with years of guilt and pain. "The beach, the water, every time I'm in there, I think about him. About how I couldn't do anything."

I feel the burn of tears slipping down my cheeks as I tighten my grip on his arm. "You did everything you could."

Lars shakes his head. "No, I let him drown."

"Lars—"

"If I had just—" The ache in his voice is unbearable, and before I realize it, I'm leaning closer, pulling him into a hug.

"Lars, please," I say. "Don't blame yourself for what happened."

It's not calculated or rehearsed—just instinct. My arms wrap around him, and for a moment, he stiffens, caught off guard. Then he exhales shakily and leans into me, his forehead resting on my shoulder.