#manami

Back then he had been larger than life. Handsome, terrifying, untouchable. He carried himself like someone born to rule. He was Satoru’s best friend, the one everyone whispered about. Strong. Brilliant. Cruel when he wanted to be.

And you had been nothing compared to him.

You were not a sorcerer. You had no talent, no cursed energy, no family name worth anything. You were just a girl who could not look him in the eye without your pulse racing.

But fate arranged it. Families made choices for you both, and suddenly he was your fiancé. You had expected him to despise you, to cast you aside the way he sneered at every other non sorcerer.

Instead, he fell in love with you.

And you fell harder for him.

By nineteen you and Suguru were inseparable. By twenty one you were married. By twenty three you were carrying his child and raising the twins he had brought home like they were your own.

It should have been the kind of life you dreamed of.

But then there was Manami.

Suguru’s assistant. His angel. His shadow. Always at his side, always laughing at his words, always touching him as if she had some right. She was beautiful in a way that made your stomach twist. Sharp eyes, red lips, a body that made everyone stare when she walked into a room. And she knew it.

She also knew exactly how to make you feel small.

She had history with him. You knew it. Everyone knew it. She made sure you never forgot.

“Do you remember Osaka,” she purred once, leaning against his desk while you sat nearby. “We could not even wait for the hotel. You pushed me right up against the elevator wall.”

You had stared at the floor, blood boiling, and Suguru had just frowned, muttering for her to get back to the point of her report. He did not stop her. He never really did.

Other times her attacks were aimed directly at you, subtle enough that Suguru brushed them off but sharp enough to slice through your chest.

“Oh, you wore that dress again. It is… simple. I suppose it suits you.”

“You are glowing. Pregnancy always makes women glow. Of course, it also makes them soft. Some more than others.”

“Be careful, Suguru. She is putting on weight fast. You used to tell me how much you liked my figure. Would be a shame if she lost yours.”

She always smiled when she said these things, her eyes glinting, as if daring you to snap.

And you never did. You just sat there and let the poison sink into your skin, until you could barely look at yourself in the mirror without hearing her voice.

You saw the softness in your face, the roundness in your arms, the curve of your stomach that seemed too much already. You saw someone plain, someone average. Standing next to her, you looked invisible.

And what made it worse was knowing Suguru had once kissed her, touched her, held her. He had once said sweet things to her. Maybe he still thought about it. Maybe he still wanted her.

You were not the first. You were not even the best. You were just the exception.

One afternoon the twins were playing in the garden while you sat on the steps. You were exhausted. The baby inside you pulled every ounce of energy out, and every day felt heavier.

Manami slid out through the back door, graceful as ever, balancing a tray of drinks. She set them down and crouched beside Mimiko, adjusting her hair with a smile.

“You poor thing,” she said sweetly. “Your mommy is trying but she is so tired. Maybe Auntie Manami should take care of you. I think I would be better at it.”

You froze.

Nanako giggled, not understanding, and Manami turned to you with that same sugar smile.

“You look pale. Maybe motherhood is too much for you. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Some women are simply not cut out for it. Suguru deserves the best though, dont you think.”

Your jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “Back off..” you snapped. Her brows lifted, all innocence. “I am only helping.”

You grabbed Mimiko’s hand and pulled her close, your stomach twisting with fury and shame. Manami’s eyes lingered on you for a long moment, then flicked toward the house. Suguru’s silhouette passed through the window. She smirked like she knew she was winning.

The final straw came at one of Suguru’s meetings. The hall was crowded, his followers gathered in awe, and you sat in the back clutching your stomach.

Suguru spoke, commanding, magnetic. And beside him as always was Manami. Passing him papers, leaning in too close, whispering in his ear like she was the one who belonged there.

Your nails dug crescents into your palms.

After the meeting ended you stayed behind. You could not help yourself. You heard her voice drifting from the front of the room.

“You are too soft on her,” Manami said. “She is not fit for this. She is fragile, plain, not worthy of you. Everyone knows it.”

“Enough,” Suguru’s voice warned.

“I am being honest. You are wasting yourself on her. You deserve someone who understands you. Someone strong. Someone like me.”

You stumbled out before you could hear his reply, tears burning down your cheeks.

That night Suguru found you curled up in your bed, face buried in the pillow.

“What happened,” he asked, his voice soft but heavy with concern.

“Nothing.”

“Dont lie to me.” His hand brushed your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

You swallowed hard. “Why do you let her say those things about me.”

His eyes sharpened. “What did she say.”

“She tells me I am not pretty. That I am too soft. That I am not enough for you. And you never stop her. You just let her say it. Maybe she is right. Maybe you dont really love me. Maybe you are just stuck with me.”

“Stop,” he said firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “Do not ever say that again.”

Tears slid down your cheeks. “But she is everything I am not. She is beautiful, confident, she matches you. I am just… me.”

“You are not just anything.” His voice was fierce now, eyes blazing. “You are the only one who has ever changed me. Do you understand that. I spent my whole life hating, despising non sorcerers. And then you came along. You ruined all of it. You made me want something different. You made me want a life with you. With our children. With everything I thought I could never have.”

Your breath hitched, chest aching.

“She makes me feel so small,” you whispered. “Like you will realize I am not enough.”

His thumb stroked your cheek. “She is nothing. She is the past. You are my wife. You are my future. You are the love of my life. Do you hear me.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.

His forehead pressed against yours, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “You are the only one I want. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, I will.”

You believed him. Or at least you wanted to.