Watanabe's Corruption

However, unlike before, Yui's head didn't snap to the side as it usually would. It remained perfectly still, as though Watanabe had struck something solid—something unyielding. It was as if she had just slapped a slab of stone.

The sting of the impact radiated up Watanabe's arm, her palm throbbing. But Yui… she didn't even flinch. Her soft, delicate features remained unchanged, as if the blow had been nothing more than a gentle breeze brushing against her skin.

Watanabe's breath hitched. Her fingers curled instinctively, recoiling slightly as confusion flickered in her eyes.

"You don't seem to see yourself for what you truly are," Yui said, her voice light and airy, carrying an almost playful lilt. "I mean, have you ever really looked at yourself in the mirror? Maybe not, considering how blissfully ignorant you are."

The words slithered under Watanabe's skin, igniting something feral inside her.