𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼 ~ Hikaru Hizashi x oc ~ Beyblade Burst

Chapter 19

Suisei's POV:

By now, you might be thinking—exposing something as petty as Suisei once being with Kazuma isn't really that big of a deal.

But that wasn't what Suisei feared. Not really.

What kept her awake at night was the truth her mother dangled over her like a blade, the truth she never dared whisper—not even to her brother.

It was a word that belonged in breaking headlines, in courtroom whispers, in grainy black-and-white mystery films. A word that carried weight, dread, finality.

Murderer.

And in her mind, that word had always been carved with her name.

Carved eight years ago.

The streets had been dark that night, the kind of darkness that makes every shadow feel alive. Suisei remembered being so small, clutching her schoolbag as she hurried home, her shoes slapping against the pavement.

That's when she'd heard them.

Two men — strangers, their faces half-hidden by hoodies. She hadn't known why they'd targeted her. She'd just heard the pounding footsteps behind her, the low voices, the surge of instinctive terror.

She ran.

Her lungs burned as she sprinted, every corner turning into another dead end, every breath ragged. She didn't know where else to go. So she went to the only safe place she knew.

Home.

She burst through the front door, screaming for her father. He appeared almost instantly, warm and steady, his tall frame filling the hallway.

"Suisei?" His voice was alarmed but calm, the kind of calm that had always made her feel safe. He looked past her and saw the shadows moving outside. "Go upstairs. Now."

But she hadn't moved. She'd been frozen, trembling in the doorway, when the men forced their way in.

Everything after that came in flashes. Her father shouting. The crash of furniture. The glint of something sharp. Suisei's scream tearing her throat raw.

And then—blood. Too much of it. Her father collapsing, his eyes finding hers one last time.

"Run."

The word was a whisper, but it carried more weight than anything he'd ever said.

So she ran. She bolted into the street, tears blinding her, until she found a neighbor with a phone. She called the police with shaking hands, begging them to hurry.

By the time they arrived, the men were gone. Her father was gone.

And Suisei was left with nothing but the crushing truth: they'd only been there because of her.

Years later, the memory was as sharp as glass. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, heard his last word, felt the hot weight of guilt crushing her chest.

It was her fault. If she hadn't run home, if she'd just kept running somewhere else, if she hadn't been so small, so stupid—

Her mother never let her forget it, either. The coldness in her voice whenever she mentioned that night still echoed:

"Your weakness killed him."

Suisei pulled her knees to her chest on the bed, her breath shallow. No one knew the full story. Not Hikaru. Not Hyuga. Not even Akira. To the world, it was a tragic home invasion. To her, it was the night she learned what it meant to carry a death on your shoulders.

The Kazuma scandal wasn't what terrified her. Rumors didn't matter. What terrified her was the thought of anyone digging too deep, anyone unearthing the truth of that night.

Because what if they didn't see a survivor? What if they only saw the girl who brought death to her own doorstep?

She clutched the bracelet Hikaru had given her until her knuckles ached.

She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to know everything. But every time she thought of the words, she imagined the look in his eyes — pity, disgust, horror. And she knew she couldn't bear it.

So she stayed silent.

Always silent.

When Akira tapped gently on her door later, bringing tea and his usual steady presence, she forced a smile. Pretending. Always pretending.

Because some wounds weren't meant to be shared. Some nights never really ended.