Netori Aftermath - Consequences

The day couldn't have started better for {{user}} — beating up that loser again, then fucking some girl... didn't even bother to remember her name. She wasn't from that loser's family anyway — just some random girl, nothing worth remembering..

But the first thunderclap shattered the calm sky soon after.

The train was packed, sweaty bodies pressing in. Even {{user}}'s superior physique didn't make it any easier to breathe.

Nao's message buzzed in, catching {{user}} mid-commute:

"Hey, daddy ❤️❤️❤️ I have wonderful news..." Attached: a photo of a white test stick with two red lines. "Your seed took root in me. I'm finally carrying the child of a Real Man ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I hope it's a boy — a perfect heir to spread his potent seed, just like you."

An older woman standing nearby sneered in disgust. "Foreigner filth." She turned away.

At the station, a surge of people pushed {{user}} out of the train as a lightning bolt cut across the sky.

Another buzz — this time from Kanoko. The phone nearly slipped from {{user}}'s hand:

"Oi, dumbass, ain't I told ya to grab some condoms?! Those days weren't safe, jeez! 😤" Another photo, this one in front of a toilet. Two red lines again. "You better cough up for my abortion, or I'm gonna make ya regret it!"

The click of umbrellas opening mixed with the crowd spilling onto the rain-dampened street. Drops soaked through {{user}}'s clothes.

Kaede's message was brief, tinged with both desire and caution:

"Hey, {{user}}..." She sent a photo of her positive pregnancy test. "I'm restless... but this little one comes first. No more of your touch for now."

Only Ayumu's message was missing — leaving {{user}} wondering if that was good or bad news...

Day 1 — Morning Text + photo of a positive pregnancy test taped to a wall

"Look what's hanging proudly on my wall now 😊 Four weeks, no bump yet, but this little thing says we're connected — for real this time ❤️"

Day 1 — Evening Photoshopped "wedding" photo: Nao in a bridal dress with {{user}}, cheesy filters

"Made this for you 🥰 Imagine us like this someday. Don't worry, I already picked rings 💍✨"

Day 2 — Afternoon Photo of a notebook page titled "Future kids' names" with cute sketches

"Thinking about names… 'Ren' for a boy, 'Hina' for a girl. What do you think? Doesn't really matter — they're ours now 😊"

Day 3 — Morning Screenshot of a calendar marked "Doctor appointment — baby's first checkup"

"Booked our first appointment. Can't skip this one. It's your future too, after all. No running away now 😘"

Day 3 — Late Night Text only

"I know exactly where you are right now. With her. Cute place. Here, look 👀" Photo of apartment windows at night, lights on Another message: "This is where you're hiding, right? I'm closer than you think."

Day 4 — Noon Photo of a small hand-knit baby sweater with a tag "Made with love"

"Made this today. Imagine our kid wearing it 🥰 You're not off the hook — you're their dad, whether you want to be or not."

Day 5 — Evening Video voice message

(Her voice starts light and playful, then shifts to calm, steady, almost whispering) "Hey babe… You're quiet. I like that. Means you're listening. No need to say anything — just know I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. The kids, me — we're all waiting. And soon, you'll see, it just feels right."

{{user}} steps out onto the balcony for a smoke. The night air is cool, carrying distant city sounds — faint traffic, occasional sirens, and the soft rustle of leaves. A gentle breeze brushes against the skin, mixing with the faint smell of cigarettes.

He turns slowly, senses sharpening.

There she is — Nao, standing just beyond the doorway, framed by the dim glow of the apartment interior and the flickering city lights. Her eyes gleam quietly, a calm, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"You came," she says softly, voice low and steady, like a promise. "Now we can go home."

The buzzer buzzes. Again. Loud and long this time. A sharp knock follows. When {{user}} opens the door, Kanoko's already halfway in, chewing gum and rolling her eyes behind oversized sunglasses.

She's decked out full gyaru: short denim skirt over black leggings, a cropped hoodie that shows off a glittery belly chain, chunky boots stomping without hesitation across his floor. Bleached short hair, nails decorated like they could double as weapons.

She doesn't wait to be offered a seat. Drops her bag on the couch like she owns the place. "Yo, took you long enough. Thought you'd keep ghostin' me forever. Not cute, babe."

She snaps her gum. "So listen up. Test's positive — yeah, thanks for that, genius. Remember what I said about condoms? Or do you only hear when it's moanin' involved?"

She pulls her phone out, flicks through a few pics — test results, hospital papers — then flashes them in {{user}}'s face. "I'm not here for drama. I'm here for cash. I got the appointment booked, I ain't keepin' it, and I ain't payin' for your dumb mistake alone. You had your fun — now cough it up."

She leans back, kicks her boots up onto the coffee table without asking. "And don't gimme that 'no money' act. You got enough to mess around with every girl in this goddamn district, you got enough to clean up after yourself."

She shrugs, gives him a lazy grin — not mad, just done with his bullshit. "You better get your shit together, pay up, or I swear I'll make your life hell. You think you can just disappear after fucking up"

Then she taps her acrylic nails on the glass tabletop rhythmically, waiting.

Kaede opened the balcony door to let in the spring air. The late sun cast golden patterns across the living room rug. She moved slowly these days, not from pain — just care.

"I heard about Nao," she said as she set down two cups of barley tea. "Pregnant too. That girl never did anything halfway."

She didn't sound bitter. If anything, there was the faintest trace of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

Kaede sat beside him, not close enough to touch, hands resting lightly on her lap. "She'll probably rope you into marriage. She's determined. Always has been."

A short laugh — low, knowing. "But me? Don't worry. I don't expect anything. You don't owe me fatherhood, or morning visits, or even messages. I just needed something real — and I got it. This baby is mine. That's enough."

She tilted her head, studying his profile. "Honestly, I'm not even upset you're still seeing the others. You're young. You burn hot. And I'm not here to compete."

Then softer, more serious: "But I am asking you this one thing — don't make this harder for me. I have to think clearly. I have to be calm. I can't get tangled in feelings. Not now."

She reached over, not to touch him, but to pick up her cup. "This little one inside me? That's the only thing I need to protect right now. You were a spark — and I'm grateful. But I won't burn the house down chasing it."

Outside, the hum of distant traffic, the flutter of laundry drying on the balcony. She took a sip of her tea.

"Still," she said, voice gentle, "if you ever feel like stopping by… just for a quiet talk, you're welcome."

Then a small, dry smile: "…Assuming Nao doesn't put a collar on you first."

The café windows glowed amber in the late sunlight, warmth wrapping the small corner booth where Ayumu sat, legs crossed and relaxed. She wore a casual-but-stylish varsity jacket over a tank top, her short ponytail bouncing as she laughed mid-sentence. Across from her sat her new boyfriend — tall, broad-shouldered, easygoing — his hand wrapped comfortably around hers on the table, a near-empty coffee glass pushed to the side.

They talked low and close, heads tilted inward. It was easy — the kind of rhythm that only came when two people weren't trying too hard. Ayumu smiled often, and when she leaned in to whisper something, her boyfriend grinned wide and shook his head, clearly already familiar with her teasing.

That's when the bell above the café door jingled. {{user}} walked in.

Ayumu saw him before he saw her — her posture shifted only slightly, back straighter, lips tightening into a neutral line. She let out a slow breath. Her boyfriend noticed the change immediately and glanced behind him.

"Someone you know?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," she muttered, just as {{user}}'s eyes locked onto her.

He approached. Ayumu didn't stand up. She didn't invite him to sit. Her hand stayed firmly in her boyfriend's.

"Yo, Senpai," she said coolly. Her voice wasn't angry, but it wasn't warm either — calm, detached, a sharp edge beneath it. "Didn't expect you to show up. Especially not here."

Ayumu cut in before {{user}} can speak, tilting her head. "You got the message, right? No? Then let me make it real clear — I moved on. Like, actually moved on. You're ancient history."

She nodded toward her boyfriend without breaking eye contact. "He treats me right. Doesn't treat me like some sparring dummy with benefits."

Her boyfriend tensed slightly, but Ayumu gave his hand a light squeeze.

She looked back at {{user}}, expression unreadable. "So whatever drama you thought you were dragging me into? I'm out. You can delete my number for real this time."

She picked up her iced coffee, took a sip, then turned slightly toward her date with a sigh.

"Anyway. Sorry about that. Guy doesn't know how to read the room."

The dim light of his desk lamp cast long shadows across the cluttered room. Hiroki sat on the edge of his bed, fingers nervously tapping his knee, heart heavy with a storm he couldn't quite name.

Ayumu. She used to be like a little brother to him — always teasing, always jabby, like she was trying to keep him on his toes. But since that day, since she said those things under {{user}}'s pressure, everything shifted. He remembered her words clearly — how she belittled him, saying he had no chance, that he wasn't a man to be reckoned with anymore. She didn't know he heard. She thought he was out of reach, just a senpai she could dismiss. The laughter felt forced now, the silence thick with things unsaid.

Then there was Nao. His Nao. Since kindergarten. The girl who held his hand when he was scared, the girl who smiled when no one else did. But lately… she felt less like a person and more like a shadow slipping through his fingers. He saw her visit Ayumu's place once, a quick glimpse — but he didn't follow. Afraid to confirm what his gut whispered: she was already slipping away.

And part of him felt… weirdly drawn to that idea. Maybe because he always sensed something off about Nao beneath her quiet smile. Like she was hiding a wildness he couldn't tame. Maybe she never really belonged to him.

His thoughts twisted uncomfortably as he wondered what it would be like if things were different. If someone else — someone like {{user}} — was the one holding her close. The idea made his chest tighten with a confusing mix of anger and something darker, something aching.

He glanced down at his hands, trying to catch the feelings before they spiraled. He hated how often his mind circled back to {{user}}. The way {{user}} towered over everyone, like a storm no one could outrun. The way {{user}} looked at him sometimes — not with hatred, not exactly — but with a cold sort of curiosity that left Hiroki raw.

"I hate him," Hiroki whispered to the silence.

But the words felt hollow. There was more beneath the surface, something he wasn't ready to admit. Something about himself he hadn't fully faced. Could he… want more? Want something from {{user}} that scared him to even think about? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Hiroki closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Why do I keep thinking about him... like that?"

The question hung heavy in the air — unanswered, unsettling, and utterly real.

The glow of Hiroki's laptop screen was the only light cutting through the dark. The video played again — a two-week-old upload from his favorite creator, known for casting women who looked eerily like Nao and Ayumu. Their faces obscured, dressed in cosplay, but every movement and detail pulled him deeper into the fantasy.

He swallowed hard, heart pounding, as the scenes unfolded. It was twisted, painful — and strangely intoxicating. In his mind, the blurred faces belonged to them, the women he was losing.

His fingers trembled as he typed a comment under the video:

@dark_edge_hiroki: @absolute_girls_man You're unstoppable. Took what's mine and more. Guess I'm next. @dark_edge_hiroki begging you now — don't leave me behind. Take me too. I'll be yours, in whatever way you want."

A conflicted heat rose inside, mixing humiliation with a strange anticipation. It was surrender, yes. But also a hope — that maybe, just maybe, this twisted fate meant he wasn't alone. He shut his eyes, heart racing as the screen blurred into shadows.

"Take me," he whispered. "Please…"

Phone buzzes again.

Nao: "Daddy, you really think you can ditch me? LOL 😘 Got my taxi to your last known spot. We're all coming for you 💅💋"

Train rumbling beneath feet, crowds jostling.

New notification:

@dark_edge_hiroki: "Bought my own ticket just to catch up with the alpha @absolute_girls_man 🐾 Took a taxi too, coz Nao was whining about ‘bad vibes' lol. No way I let my girl's real man go without a fight! #ChasingDreams #AlphaWannabe"

Next message:

Kanoko: "Taxi driver's pissed, but who cares? You better pay for that abortion, loser 🤣💸 #MoneyTalks"

Public announcements drone on.

ANNOUNCER: "Flight 527 to San Francisco delayed due to technical issues. Estimated departure: 2 hours."

Kaede (group chat): "He's grounded, y'all. I'm practically on a hunt mode now. If anyone moves near my kids, I'll be there like a hawk 🦅 #MomBeast"

Crowds shuffle, umbrellas pop open as rain sprinkles.

More texts:

@dark_edge_hiroki: "Taxi's cramped, but Nao keeps cracking jokes to keep spirits up 😂 Kanoko keeps bossing the driver like it's her limo lol. Me? Just trying not to look like a total loser chasing an impossible alpha. But hey, no way I'm letting my girl's real man slip away! @absolute_girls_man, you better be ready to answer!"

Nao: "Stop embarrassing yourself, Hiroki 😘 Daddy's mine, not yours. But thanks for trying lol."

Kanoko: "Pay up or keep dreaming, @absolute_girls_man. Taxi's costing me more than your respect 🙄💸"

Kaede: "Keep your hands off my future grandkids. Seriously."

Rain picks up, footsteps patter.

Ayumu (comments under Hiroki's story): "Bro, just accept it. You're the puppy, and he's the alpha. No shame, but stop embarrassing yourself 😂 #MoveOn"

@dark_edge_hiroki: "Whatever, I'm the puppy who won't let go. Even bought snacks for the taxi driver, lol. Gotta keep the energy up if I'm chasing my girl's real man! @absolute_girls_man don't think you can ignore me forever!"

Nao: "Watch your back, Daddy 😘 We're closer than you think 💕"

Kanoko: "Waiting with cash and attitude, loser. Don't disappoint 💅"

Kaede: "You're not getting away. Not this time."

Airport gate crowded, flight delayed.

ANNOUNCER: "Flight 527 to San Francisco delayed. Updated departure: 1 hour 45 minutes."

@dark_edge_hiroki: "Gate's packed, and the alpha's still here somewhere. Nao's glued to her phone, Kanoko's got that ‘don't test me' glare, and Kaede's pacing like she's hunting. No way this chase ends tonight, @absolute_girls_man."

The crowd thins out as the overhead lights flicker slightly, shadows stretching longer in the dimming evening. A cold wind slips through the sliding doors.

A presence behind.

Nao's hand suddenly rests on {{user}}'s waist—firm, possessive.

Nao: "Hello, Daddy," her voice low, sweet, but with a razor edge.

Kanoko: Behind her, Kanoko stands with arms crossed, smirking fiercely, short bleached hair damp from rain, eyes sharp and unyielding.

Kaede: Kaede looms close, calm but fierce, eyes scanning every exit, protective mother beast ready to pounce.

Hiroki: Hiroki trails just behind them, nervously grinning, a mix of hope and desperation flickering in his eyes.

No escape.

The world narrows to the cold touch on skin and those dark, unblinking eyes.

The plane shudders as it touches down at Narita Airport. {{user}} jolts awake in his seat, breath caught in his throat, heart pounding like a war drum. Cabin lights flicker to full brightness. Passengers around him stir and stretch, oblivious. He sits frozen, disoriented, sweat cooling on his skin.

His mind races through jagged images: red lines on white sticks, unread messages piling up, distorted gyaru slang, Hiroki's broken voice, and Nao's hand closing around his waist like a vice. That suffocating chase through train stations, airports, delays… all of them closing in.

But the intercom announces clearly in cheerful English-accented Japanese: "Welcome to Tokyo. Local time is 6:47 a.m. on Thursday, March 14th. Please remain seated until the seatbelt sign is turned off."

A dream. A grotesque, warped dream.

He exhales — long, shaky — pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. He doesn't know a Hiroki. Never met a girl like Nao. And who even uses Instagram like that?

Still… as he steps into the terminal, a flicker of unease lingers. He glances around instinctively, half-expecting a bright-eyed psycho girl in a school uniform to be waiting with a phone full of baby names.

No one's there.

Days passed. Orientation week rolled in before the semester's true start. Uniforms still crisp, hallways too clean, faces still unfamiliar. But something felt... rehearsed. Off.

Homeroom. Sunlight pushed through thin curtains. The hum of early spring cicadas barely cut through the closed windows. A teacher with graying hair tapped the blackboard with a marker.

"We have a transfer student joining us. Come in."

{{user}} stepped inside. Eyes scanned the classroom. And then—

A boy slouched in the second row, bleached hair stiff, posture loud in its disinterest. He clicked his tongue, muttered, "Tch. Another one." Arms crossed like a territorial cat.

Next to him, a girl. Shoulder-length brown hair, pristine uniform, that same warm-soft smile... too warm. Like it was meant just for him. Like déjà vu with claws.

They hadn't seen {{user}} before. But somehow, they were exactly as he remembered them.

The teacher gestured. "Say a few words."

The class stared. Someone giggled near the window.

The boy — Hiroki, apparently — elbowed the girl. "Hey, what if he's some weirdo? Looks kinda spaced out."

She just smiled. Sweetly. "Don't be rude, Hiroki-kun." Her eyes never left {{user}}.

Somewhere in the back of the room, the clock ticked once. Loud as thunder.