Chapter 53 – Memories I Don’t Want to Recall

"Shinguu-sensei? Shinguu-sensei?"

Seated in the driver's seat, Okata glanced over and noticed that Shinguu Akira was staring blankly at the girl in front of his house, completely lost in thought. Gently patting his shoulder, he called out quietly.

"Ah? Oh… Sorry, I was just… thinking."

Flashing an apologetic smile, Shinguu Akira fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

"Um, Okata-san… You can drop me off here. It's only a few meters—I'll walk the rest."

Okata cast another glance at the girl sitting on the steps in front of Shinguu Akira's home. He couldn't see her face clearly, and although he was curious about their relationship, Masaki Okata was already in his thirties. He understood well that there were some things best left unknown—knowing too much could disrupt the balance between people.

With a knowing smile, he said, "Then I'll leave it at that. If anything comes up, feel free to contact me. Of course, if I need anything, I'll reach out too."

"Thank you. Please drive safely."

Shinguu Akira gave him a grateful smile, appreciating the maturity in Okata's discretion. He opened the car door, gave a short farewell, and stood watching as the car disappeared into the distance. Then, hesitating for a moment, he finally forced his legs to move toward the entrance of his home.

The closer he got to his front door, the more anxious he became. His heart pounded violently in his chest—thump, thump, thump—and nervous sweat formed in the palms of his hands. His delicate, handsome features twisted slightly, revealing guilt… and regret.

Memories began to echo through his mind.

It hadn't been long ago...

When Shinguu Akira had first crossed over into this world, the first thing he saw was the sterile white ceiling of a hospital. Perhaps due to the merging of souls, his body underwent changes—changes even he couldn't fully comprehend. His body, which had been on the brink of death, suddenly and inexplicably recovered—a miracle beyond modern medicine.

Not wanting his father or younger sister to notice his change, and with only fragmented memories of the life he'd stepped into, he chose to isolate himself in a luxurious apartment in Chiyoda. That place… truly was luxurious—located in central Tokyo, and worth more than fifty million RMB. No exaggeration. Property in that area went for over 300,000 yuan per square meter...

But that wasn't the point. Though he was initially stunned by the astronomical price, he gradually got used to it. The real turning point came when Shinguu Kanade—his fiancée—showed up as his first visitor.

She was an incredibly gentle and hardworking girl. A princess, no less, and only sixteen years old. Yet she looked after him in that apartment—cooking, cleaning, doing all the chores that should have been left to servants. She did everything without a single complaint, always with a warm and sweet smile on her stunning face. She treated him so delicately, as if afraid of brushing against the fragile corners of his soul.

During the day, she went to school. After classes, she came to his apartment. Before nightfall, she would leave—but not before preparing his breakfast and lunch for the next day.

She lived in the Imperial Palace, not far from the apartment, in the very heart of Tokyo. And yet, despite everything, Shinguu Akira barely spoke to her—afraid that his changes would be noticed by her.

But Kanade never once complained. Instead, she cared for him even more attentively. In just a few short days, he had already fallen into the trap of her kindness.

Then, it began.

The nightmare in his heart—insidious, festering—surfaced with terrifying force. A twisted jealousy, hideous and sickening, took root in his mind.

This kindness… wasn't meant for me.

He screamed inside.

This kindness belongs to the "Shinguu Akira" before I came here.

That was the rawest truth of his heart.

He began to envy. To covet. To hate. To loathe.

This impossibly gentle and beautiful girl didn't belong to him—she was meant for someone else. She was taking care of someone who no longer existed.

That jealousy burned him from the inside out, devouring his sanity and eroding every last shred of human restraint.

"She's my fiancée, right? That means… surely something already happened between them, right? She's this gentle—so it wouldn't be strange if they were already intimate, right? And this body—it's mine now… isn't it?"

Thoughts like that echoed endlessly in his head. They kept him awake at night, unable to eat, unable to rest. And then—on that fateful afternoon, when Kanade stopped by after school, the last thread of his sanity snapped.

He lost himself.

He became a beast.

He violated the princess.

She struggled. Fiercely. But in his deranged mind, her resistance only fed the delusion—he mistook it for flirtation. And the moment he entered her—at the instant her body was torn and stained with crimson—his mind finally returned.

Only then did he realize…

It had all been in his head.

He didn't know her at all. They'd never spoken about the past. He had no idea what had happened between them before. He'd simply projected, reading meaning into her kindness through the lens of his own corruption.

She was gentle by nature.

That visit to the apartment had been their first meeting.

She had come only because she'd heard about her fiancé's condition and wanted to fulfill her duties. That was all. She didn't know him. She was just… doing what she thought was right.

The original "Shinguu Akira"—the one who had disappeared when he arrived—hadn't even known he had a fiancée.

Now it was all his.

This life, this body.

And he had defiled her.

In that moment, he had a choice. He could have stopped, could have tried to make it right, even then.

But he didn't.

He gave in completely, like a man throwing away what little dignity he had left. He played with her—this princess of the Japanese imperial family—as though she were his toy.

Was it painful? Did he feel guilty? Did he regret it? Did he want to make amends?

Yes. All of it.

But Shinguu Akira was just an ordinary man. One with deeply flawed masculinity and the cowardice to match.

So afterward… he ran.

He chose to avoid her.

To forget.

To bury the truth.

But now—

"Now, I have to face it… As a man, I can't run forever."