I Was Blackmailed Into Accepting Bullying Using My Childhood Friend as Leverage, But When I Found Out My Friend and Bully Were Together, I Abandoned All Compassion and Swore to Take Revenge with Everything I Had - Chapter 39: Kenichi Fudo - Final Arc: The Spark of Revenge

Chapter 39: Kenichi Fudo – Final Arc: The Spark of Revenge

“Mom! I’m home!!”

“Auntie, I’m here too!”

“Welcome back, Kenichi! And Shizuku-chan, welcome! You two are covered in dirt again—looks like you had lots of fun today.”

My mother, Youka Komada, is a homemaker. She met my father, Taichi Komada, through a work-related matchmaking arrangement. My father was immediately smitten with her, and after some persistent courting, they quickly got married.

Since my father worked in sales and was often away on long business trips or stationed out of town, my mother decided to leave her job when she became pregnant with me, dedicating herself to being a full-time homemaker.

“Hey, Kenichi, Shizuku-chan, we have those famous puddings from the shop by the station today!”

“Yay! See, Shizuku, aren’t you glad you came over to my house?”

“Yeah! But it’s not you I should thank, Ken-chan. Thank you, Auntie!”

“Hey, that’s not fair~”

“Haha, now, now, no fighting! Go wash your hands quickly.”

My mother was strong, kind, and always put me and my childhood friends first. I loved her dearly.

She always praised the drawings and essays I made.

“Kenichi, you’re amazing!” my mother would say as she gently patted my head. I took great pride in her praise. But when I came home after getting into fights with Shizuku and the others, she would sometimes say:

“You shouldn’t make Shizuku-chan cry! You’re supposed to protect her, remember?”

“Kenichi, use your strength to protect others!”

“Compassion, Kenichi! Always show compassion!”

Her words, spoken with a sad expression as she looked straight into my eyes, always struck a chord in my heart.

I always wanted to become someone as kind and compassionate as my mother.

But one day, after playing with Shizuku and parting ways at the park, I came home to find my mother collapsed at the living room table, drenched in sweat.

“M-Mom!!”

I rushed over and shook her, but she was unresponsive. I called 119 and explained her condition, but I couldn’t wait for the ambulance to arrive. I lifted her onto my back, carried her to the front door, and gently placed her head on my lap, stroking her hair just like she always did for me.

The paramedics arrived soon after, quickly placing her on a stretcher and administering first aid before rushing her to the hospital.

“Mom, how are you feeling…?”

“Kenichi… yes, I must have fainted… Thank you, Kenichi…”

[Rattle]

“Nee-san! What happened!?”

My aunt, Junka, rushed to the hospital after being notified. My father was on a business trip in Tohoku and couldn’t return immediately.

“Oh, Junka… I’m sorry. I know you just started your new job and it’s been tough…”

“It’s fine! Don’t worry about work. What’s more important is what happened to you! You were so full of energy before…”

“…”

As the days passed, my mother grew weaker and weaker. At first, my father visited her whenever he had a day off, but by the second month, he only showed up about once a month, claiming he was too busy.

“Mom, I got the top marks in my class again, even in fifth grade!”

“That’s wonderful, Kenichi. Come here…”

I leaned in close to my mother’s bedside, and she slowly extended her trembling hand from under the blanket. I gently took her frail hand and placed it on my head.

“Kenichi, you’re amazing… so proud of you…” My mother’s arm was now just skin and bones, her cheeks were sunken, and her once large, beautiful eyes were hollow. Her hair was unkempt, lacking the care it once had.

“I’m so happy when you pat my head, Mom,” I said, trying my best to smile so she wouldn’t worry.

Within a week, my mother could no longer speak, but she still greeted me with a smile and patted my head every time I visited her in the hospital.

One day, after my mother had fallen asleep, likely due to the painkillers, I noticed Aunt Junka’s bag left behind on the table in the hospital room—she must have forgotten it.

(Junka-san is as forgetful as ever… Huh?)

I noticed an A4 sheet of paper labeled “Diagnosis Results” peeking out from her bag. Curious, I gently pulled it out.

The diagnosis was for my mother. I committed every word and detail on that paper to memory. My ability to perfectly remember things, even without prior learning, is a talent I was born with—I can recall shapes and letters flawlessly.

When I got home, I wrote down what I had memorized: multiple organ failure, adverse drug reaction, drug toxicity, organ dysfunction. I looked up each term on the computer.

The information suggested that the medication my mother had been taking regularly was not compatible with her body. This led to an allergic reaction that caused damage to her internal organs, resulting in the current state of multiple organ failure, affecting her kidneys, liver, and pancreas.

I printed out everything I could find and committed every word to memory.

My mother, addicted to drugs… It couldn’t be… It just didn’t seem possible…

Day by day, my mother grew weaker, until she finally became critically ill.

I told my father that it would take four hours, no matter how fast we went, to get to the airport.

“Mom…”

“Nee-san…”

Junka-san and I held her hand together, watching her peaceful, sleeping face. We informed my father, but no matter how quickly he traveled, it would still take four hours for him to arrive.

“Time of death: 18:41… May she rest in peace,” the doctor said as he gently placed my mother’s frail arm back under the blanket, bowed his head, and, along with the nurses, carefully removed the medical equipment from her body. After one final bow from the doorway, they quietly left the room.

“Mom… you did your best… You were amazing… sob… sob…”

I gently patted her head, speaking softly to her, just as she always did for me.

“Nee-san… you were incredible… You fought so hard… sob…”

Junka-san gently stroked my mother’s cheek, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her sobs, but tears overflowed, trailing down her hand and falling onto my mother’s chest.

My father didn’t arrive until the day after my mother passed away.

…By that time, I may have already stopped seeing him as part of my family.