Irreversible Sadism (GL) - Chapter 22

“I’m just asking you to close the curtains.”

As she finished unbuttoning her blouse, Ruri hugged her body with her arms. Even with the curtains drawn, the summer sunlight streamed through the gaps, illuminating the dust dancing above the carpet like tiny stars.

In a position reminiscent of sitting cross-legged, Ruri parted the front of her blouse. Her pale skin and the delicate contours of her collarbone peeked out, glancing at me shyly.

From outside the window, laughter echoed, causing Ruri to flinch slightly, her shoulders trembling.

“If you see this… will you stop?”

“If you can teach me a way that doesn’t involve pain.”

Even at this point, Ruri seemed to be hesitating. Was it something she couldn’t show to others, or was there really nothing to reveal? Was it just pretty words meant to temporarily persuade me?

“Do you have sheets or something?”

“Do you need them?”

“I’m embarrassed, so I want to hide.”

“If you hide it, I won’t know.”

A flush of crimson painted Ruri’s cheeks.

She had been biting her lip, and slowly, her hand slipped inside her blouse.

It seemed there was something within that could transform into pain. I couldn’t imagine a lake existing in a flesh-colored desert. If it did, she should just push forward straight and without hesitation, yet Ruri’s fingers wandered uncertainly.

What could she possibly be hesitating about, when it was her own body? I watched her indecision for about five minutes, growing impatient.

If it were pain, it could fill me in an instant. If I were to fall from the window, it wouldn’t take even a minute. Yet, Ruri’s expression still showed no change. Occasionally, she would let out a breath that seemed ticklish, but something was lacking, and her face would quickly shift to one of longing.

Wasn’t this inefficient? I thought so, but decided to set aside the issue of efficiency for now. What I wanted wasn’t the value of time.

A moment of pain that scorches through every nerve, electrifying my entire body. A blinding light so intense I feared my brain might short-circuit from the connection of electrodes. If there were something that could pierce through the flatness of life and trivial worries, anxieties—something irreplaceable—then I wanted to see it.

If I wished for change, it should be the leader’s role to show what lies ahead after the helm is turned.

“Is it… pleasurable?”

What kind of sensation was Ruri experiencing as she hesitated within her blouse? I would retreat immediately if I hesitated. Yet, Ruri’s hand remained hidden deep inside.

“It should be… pleasurable, but…”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t do it well…”

When Ruri raised her face, our eyes met. Perhaps the air conditioning was too strong; she seemed to have goosebumps.

“Can you usually do it?”

She nodded, hunching her back.

“It might take some time.”

“That’s fine; after all, my mom won’t be home today.”

The clock still pointed to four o’clock. I wanted to eat by seven, so if we could finish in three hours, that would be good. Even if it were impossible, it would serve as proof that there was nothing to replace the pain.

How Ruri interpreted my permission seemed to quicken her search for what she was looking for. It didn’t seem like she was moving thoughtlessly. Her hand moved in a circular motion toward a specific point.

Just as I preferred the dull ache and pain, I wondered if Ruri had her own preferred way of touching.

“How often do you do that?”

“Huh?”

Her response was a lisping murmur. Ruri’s eyes seemed somewhat dazed.

“I used to do painful things almost every day. Back in elementary school, I would slam my body against walls on the way home, pretending to faint, trying to get as close to real pain as possible. Do you do it every day too?”

“I don’t do it… every day.”

“Oh, I see. How often do you do it then?”

“Um… maybe twice a week… mostly on days off, during the day when my family is out.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely better to do it when no one is around. When my parents were around, I would sneakily put my head underwater in the bathtub.”

It seemed there were some commonalities between us.

Ruri appeared to fill herself in that way about twice a week.

“What does it feel like?”

I’ve never felt pleasure from pain. I only felt a sense of surrender so overwhelming that I couldn’t intervene with my will, and a sharp pain that made my body heat up, leading to excitement, and afterward, a sense of comfort.

“It’s close to ticklish.”

While speaking, Ruri changed the movement of her hand.

From the gap in her blouse, white underwear became visible, adorned with a ribbon in the center. It had a design reminiscent of silk curtains draping the bedroom.

Ruri’s breaths began to mix with short gasps. Perhaps she wasn’t getting enough oxygen through her mouth, as her breaths echoed in my room, short and sharp.

Her fingers, moving with a practiced grace, unfastened the hook of her skirt, pausing as they met my gaze.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“I’m… taking it off.”

“Oh, okay.”

It must be a necessary step. I wouldn’t stop her. Yet, Ruri looked up at me, gauging my reaction.

The skirt, unhooked, fell to the floor, revealing white panties that also had a ribbon. They were likely a set with the top.

Unlike when she was touching inside her blouse, there was nothing to obstruct her when touching below. I could see Ruri’s fingers moving like a caterpillar crawling. Noticing my gaze, she closed her legs.

“I can’t see.”

This was supposed to be a time for her to teach me how to comfort herself. If she hid it, it would mean nothing. With a face that looked like she might cry, Ruri slowly opened her legs.

Once she did, something changed; Ruri’s back straightened.

“Tateha.”

She called my name, but there was no further conversation. What significance was there in calling my name? Had Ruri entered her own world, she seemed to look at me less.

For a moment, I thought she might have fallen asleep.

However, upon closer inspection, I could see her eyes, glimmering beneath her lowered lashes. In a position that resembled a light nap, Ruri gradually lowered her head.

As if recalling something, Ruri let out a sound. But she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. It was strange to stop her own breath while she was already panting.

From what I could see, it certainly didn’t seem like an act that would harm her body. Yet, at the same time, I felt a sense of dissatisfaction.

Could such a thing truly fill the gaps that had opened?

From the gaps between her fingers covering her mouth, breaths escaped.

Ruri finally closed her eyes, perhaps to concentrate.

The presence or absence of consciousness, no, the clarity of it might influence the completeness of the act. Pain is a sensation that comes from the outside, a feeling forced upon the brain, which is why it is vivid and intense. But the sensation that comes from within is something I do not possess.

Searching and searching, Ruri was moving toward a single point from the very beginning. I thought that the act itself didn’t create pleasure; rather, the meaning lay in the journey toward the goal.

Ruri’s breaths gradually began to mix with something resembling a voice. It was a sound I had never heard before. Ruri’s voice was generally lower and easier to hear when she spoke among several people. However, the voice she had now was simply hoarse. It was a falsetto that seemed to stumble and roll as it landed, gradually increasing.

About thirty minutes had already passed.

I was completely at a loss, sitting in seiza while watching Ruri intently. As my knees began to ache, I shifted my legs, adjusting them repeatedly.

Remembering the massage for my right leg that my doctor had suggested, I absentmindedly rubbed my thigh while observing Ruri.

In contrast, Ruri had already become a tangled mess. Her legs were flailing about, busy like a baby turning over.

Her right hand moved upward while her left hand moved downward, alternating between the two. The two hands were skillfully performing different movements.

Before I knew it, the hand that had been covering her mouth seemed to have been dismissed. With the guard gone, Ruri’s mouth was left half-open, defenseless. From that poorly managed entrance, heated breaths escaped.

Was it a phenomenon similar to convulsing from pain and hyperventilation?

I wanted to connect my actions with Ruri’s and understand the mechanism of that knot. Were both Ruri and I feeling the same thing?

For a moment, I burned the hope I had so despised into my mind.

“Hey, Ruri.”

I called out.

It felt like I was speaking for the first time in a while.

Ruri seemed to have forgotten I was there, suddenly looking up in surprise.

The moment our eyes met.

“…ah.”

Ruri’s body trembled twice, then three times. Like a basketball bouncing, her shoulders shook.

She squeezed her eyes and lips tightly, wearing an expression as if she were holding back something.

Ruri began to breathe heavily, as if she had just surfaced from a long dive. Her ragged breaths were hard to calm, and her body wouldn’t stop shaking, occasionally twitching like a fish washed up on the shore.

Eventually, her breathing softened, and Ruri adjusted her blouse that had slipped off her shoulders. She prioritized buttoning up the front and lifted her waist to put her skirt back on.

“Is it over already?”

“…yeah.”

Her way of speaking still held a lingering aftertaste.

“So that’s how you fill the gaps, Ruri.”

To be honest, I felt disappointed.

Ruri’s body, which had been stained black down to the marrow from eating nothing but drug-laden leaves, revealed that her act of self-comfort was, when the lid was lifted, something as simple as what anyone might do at least once.

I recalled how, back in my first year of middle school, a classmate had started doing it all at once, boasting about it in the corner of the classroom. I had tried it too, but felt no emotion whatsoever.

I had thought Ruri was on this side of things.

What I thought after witnessing the act was that it was merely a substitute, not something that could replace.

Indeed, there were some aspects that matched the reasons I had come to like pain. But even that was just a compromise chosen in situations where pain should be avoided.

“Ruri, you might feel good, but I don’t think I can accept that positively.”

I opened the door to the room, prompting her to leave. Ruri had already finished straightening her disheveled clothes.

“It’s not just pleasurable…”

“Hmm?”

“When I’m doing it, I imagine various things… and that makes my heart feel warm, and I don’t know, it feels like I can love more. It gives me a sense of being able to be kind to someone…”

…What is that?

Is there a sensation within the act of filling the gaps that allows one to be kind to someone else?

Pain is pain. Comfort is a sensory happiness, not something that influences one’s way of life or personality.

“Tateha.”

“What?”

“I want to save you.”

Again. A self-centered thought that tries to change the outcome of life, using justice as a shield. Such things only save the one who saves. The one saved is not shown a path. They will eventually walk the same road again and fall to the same ground.

“It’s natural to like pain. People have various values. But somewhere, I think we still need to discern. Deliberately hurting oneself should be stopped.”

“That’s why I can’t stop. I—”

“You can stop.”

As I stood up, trying to shake off the persistent questioning, Ruri held me back.

Her body, overlapping as if to cover me, was soft, yet the hand on my back was firm. I could feel a determination that she would never let go.

“You can stop. It’s okay.”

“…How can you say that?”

“When you’re held like this, don’t you feel anything?”

How long had it been since someone held me like this, overlapping our bodies, ensuring warmth didn’t escape? Even looking back at the past, I couldn’t find such a time.

Perhaps it was the first time since I was born.

Not knowing where to place my hands, I grasped Ruri’s hand that was wrapped around my back.

“You know, I had a really tough time in elementary school. When I was being abused, or when I took your right eye. I can’t even count how many times I thought I should just die. Every day, my father would hit me, robbing me of my self-esteem, and by the time I understood the weight of what I did to you, I was terrified of my own cruelty, trembling every day, thinking I might remain like this forever.”

Ruri’s monologue, heard in my ear, was stained with guilt and violence, yet her voice remained gentle throughout.

“But it seems my mother was worried about me. Every day, she would hug me like this. She would encourage me, saying I was going to be okay. That made me feel like it was alright to live… and I could think about changing, looking forward.”

That was merely a temporary reprieve. Human resolve is as insubstantial as smoke rising into the sky.

“That’s when I realized. I can’t change myself alone. Just as you said, there are inherently parts that cannot be changed.”

“That’s right, Ruri-chan. What lies deep within can never be changed.”

Ruri-chan shook her head beside me.

“I used to think it was exaggerated every time my mother hugged me, but now I finally feel like I understand her feelings.”

As if to fill the gaps, Ruri-chan pulled me closer. My face buried into the nape of her neck. A gentle warmth, different from the summer concrete, seeped through my skin.

“Tateha will be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Her hand, as if handling something fragile, gently stroked my head.

—Mom, I want this!

Was it my sense of touch or my sense of smell?

Something was tied to my memory.

What was unearthed was the memory of a time long ago when I went to the botanical garden with my mother.