I Got Dumped by My Childhood Friend Fiancée Who I Didn’t Even Like, I Thought I Could Finally Have a Peaceful School Life… But Then I Got Targeted by SS-Class Beautiful Young Ladies

Chapter 25: [As a Prestigious Family] Why… Didn’t You Fight Back?

Why… didn’t you fight back?

The family dinner, which nobody could really call warm or close-knit, dragged on in heavy silence. Time just kept flowing, slow and steady.

It almost felt like everyone here was stuck in some looped video playback—lifting food to their mouths, chewing, doing the exact same motions over and over.

The only thing that changed was the food on the plates. Everything else was just part of the same lifeless background.

The sounds that reached my ears barely added up to three kinds.

The dry clink of a knife touching porcelain. The quiet gulp as liquid slid down someone’s throat from a glass.

Even the rustle of clothes felt out of place in this huge room—like it didn’t belong.

Nobody spoke. Nobody met anyone’s eyes. The only thing being carefully maintained here was the bare form of the ritual.

By the time I’d finished most of my food, only one piece of meat was still basically untouched on my plate. Everyone else had pretty much wrapped up.

My older brother’s plate was spotless. Knife and fork laid neatly side by side.

Mom had also elegantly gathered her cutlery in one spot. Now she was just slowly turning her glass with her fingertips.

My older sister sat ramrod straight, polite as ever, finishing the last of her water—but her gaze kept sliding toward me. Just enough that no one else would notice. Was she worried about me… or was there something else going on in her head?

And then—Dad.

The man sitting at the head of the table had almost cleared his plate too.

I knew from the start this would happen, but yeah—this dinner was exactly the same as eating alone. Calling it a “family” meal was just a name. Honestly, being by myself would feel way less suffocating.

But today’s dinner actually had a clear purpose. The real hell wasn’t during the meal. Once the food was gone, that’s when the true nightmare would start.

My prediction, built from years of experience, was—of course—dead on.

A sharp, deliberate *clink* rang out right in the center of the room.

Dad had set his knife down. That was the signal. The meal portion was over.

The scene ended on the family head’s unilateral decision, and the whole thing was forcibly shifted to the next act.

Every single person in the room turned their attention toward the man as his deep, weighty voice rolled through the air like thunder.

“…Yoichi.”

Yeah… figured. Of course it’s me.

That low, restrained tone that pressed down on whoever it was aimed at.

Just one word, and a cold shiver raced straight up my spine.

“…Yes, Father.”

“I heard you broke off the engagement with the Tendo girl?”

Surprisingly, he didn’t sound like he was scolding me. More like he was confirming the facts… and laying them out in front of everyone.

“…Yes.”

I kept it short. Just a nod. No extra words.

Dad went quiet for a second, like he was weighing my response, then narrowed his eyes just a fraction.

“There’s also talk going around that *you* were the one who called it off. Is that true?”

Probably some rumor spread by one of Ryuki’s little followers who was in the classroom that day.

A cheap, petty move meant to trash me—exactly the kind of thing Kaga would think up.

Well, I figured something like that might happen, so I’d come prepared and slipped this thing in my pocket today.

I didn’t answer right away.

Instead, I took one light breath, reached into my inner pocket, and pulled out the small voice recorder. I held it out toward the servant standing off in the corner of the room.

Everything that happened in that classroom was packed inside that little box.

Once I saw the servant hand it over to Dad, I finally spoke, slow and calm.

“…Of course it came from their side. If you play that recording, it’ll be obvious.”

“…………Hmm.”

Dad glanced down at the device for only a moment before pressing the play button with his thumb.

What poured out was the audio from that day—the day I got NTR’d by Hikari. It already felt a little nostalgic.

Cheap, mocking laughter that warped the air. Grating sneers.

And my own voice—abnormally flat and even, even though I’d just been hit with the engagement cancellation.

The actual recording wasn’t that long, but in this room it dragged on forever.

Eventually it cut off, and silence rushed back in.

A long, heavy pause followed.

I was curious what Dad would say after hearing it, but the first one to move was my brother Hyuga—

“…That branch-family brat and that loose woman!!”

A piercing, blatant shout of rage. But it wasn’t because he was worried about me.

Hyuga shot to his feet, glaring at me with sharp eyes.

“They talked all that trash about you, and you just sat there and took it?! Huh?! Yoichi!!”

Riding the momentum of his words, he slammed his fist on the table.

The dishes rattled and clattered against each other.

“That was… the only thing I could think of.”

“That’s exactly why you’re nothing but Kirishima trash!!”

My answer just made him angrier. He grabbed the glass in front of him, looking like he was about to hurl it.

My sister’s body twitched slightly like she wanted to step in, but the one who actually stopped my brother—whose emotions had completely cut the brakes—was, surprisingly, Dad, still seated at the head.

“Hyuga.”

“…!”

A low voice that crushed the air.

Hyuga snapped back to himself in an instant and froze every movement.

“…Who gave you permission to speak?”

The head of the Kirishima family spoke without even looking at his son, idly scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

“Th-that’s… but—!”

“…Do I have to say it twice? I didn’t think you were *that* stupid.”

This time he tilted his head lazily toward Hyuga and let the words fall out, laced with disappointment.

“…! …M-my apologies.”

The second their eyes met, Hyuga dropped his gaze, curled in on himself like a tiger that lost its fangs, and sat back down.

Then Dad’s eyes shifted—to me.