CHAPTER 5: The Day Chaos Kissed Me
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The sound rang out—soft, wet, and unmistakable.
Smooch.
There's no other way to describe it. The feeling of soft lips pressing against mine, lingering far too long. The warmth. The moisture. It shouldn't have been this way, but it was.
I blinked, frozen in disbelief.
What was that?
The world seemed to tilt. A thousand questions screamed in my mind, but one, singular thought pierced through all of them with terrifying clarity.
This isn't real.
The soft, warm feeling of someone's lips on mine was a sensation so utterly foreign, it felt like being thrown into a dream I had no part in creating. But the worst part? The eyes. The big, unblinking eyes staring directly into mine, unflinching, utterly innocent.
The scent—rose shampoo, maybe? Or was it bubblegum? It was sweet, so familiar... so terribly familiar.
And then it hit me. Like a punch to the gut, everything became crystal clear. The recognition was instant, soul-shattering, and dreadfully real.
No.
No. No. NO.
My stomach lurched. The world spun, my head felt light, and my heart? It raced, hammering in my chest.
Oh God, no.
The horror crept in like a creeping shadow, the full weight of the moment finally crashing down.
My big sister.
"Big sis?!?!"
I couldn't stop myself. The words came out in a strangled gasp, like they were being ripped from my throat. The world around me seemed to shatter in slow motion. The kiss, the lips, her smile—it all played out in perfect, soul-crushing clarity.
The horror was almost physical.
"WWWWHHHHAAAAAA!!!!!!"
And just like that, I was thrust into the most mortifying, soul-scorching, deeply traumatic moment of my entire existence.
This wasn't a horror movie. This wasn't some half-baked nightmare of childhood fears. No creepy clowns, no haunted dolls, no blood-curdling screams in the dark.
It was a kiss. A stolen kiss.
On the lips. Full contact.
The kind that lingers in your soul, the kind that makes you shudder every time you remember it.
And the worst part?
It was my first kiss. Stolen, taken—forcefully and utterly by her. My big sister.
Pause for dramatic retching.
I wish I could say it was a dream. That it was some twisted fever-induced hallucination or a cruel trick played by my own subconscious. But no.
That was reality.
That kiss?
That was reality.
That was my first kiss.
And it wasn't sweet. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't the innocent peck between a shy couple.
It was wrong.
It was mine to process. And it has haunted me ever since.
I was five years old, for God's sake. Five! I liked dinosaurs, cereal, and pretending to be a Power Ranger. Innocence was supposed to be mine to keep, but that moment? It stole it all from me.
I was five. She was seven. That is a felony somewhere in the multiverse.
That was the moment the world showed me that nothing would ever be the same.
And now? My sister, married with two kids, still texts me about that moment.
"Haha, remember our little kiss accident, my sweet little brother? ;)"
No. No, I do not remember it.
Blocked.Reported.Exorcised.
(Okay, not really. I'm too weak to block her. But I'd like to.)
And so, back to the mess of my life.
There are times, in the life of the "King of Misfortune" (that's me, in case you didn't know), when even the most cursed soul can find a flicker of hope. A glimmer of light, no matter how small, in the endless void of doom.
That light? It was him.
Renji Komoriyama.
My best friend.
No, scratch that. My NEST friend.
Renji wasn't just a friend. He became my home, my refuge. The safe space amidst the chaos of my existence. He was the calm in my storm, the anchor when the sea of misfortune threatened to drown me.
I was the King, yes, but he was my general. My right-hand man. The one who walked beside me in the battlefield of life, spreading the most chaotic, unfiltered havoc we could muster.
How did it all start?
Well, perfectly.
It was one of those days you see in a movie, where everything looks too perfect to be real. The birds chirped like they were auditioning for a Disney movie, the sky was a perfect blue, and the sun shone as if it had been painted just for the occasion.
Normal kids would've been in heaven.
Me? It felt like the universe was about to pull the rug out from under me.
You see, the world had a funny way of lulling me into false hope. Days like these, when everything seemed so... ideal, were always the precursor to disaster. It's like the universe whispered, "Hey, maybe today won't be so bad."
Spoiler: It always is.
But that day? I decided to venture out. The mansion was starting to close in on me (yes, I said mansion—don't judge), and I needed to breathe.
And that's when I saw them.
Kids. Laughing. Playing. So carefree, so full of light.
I wanted to be part of that.
Maybe—just maybe—today could be the day that the curse lifted. Maybe my misfortune wouldn't touch them.
So, I stepped forward. I said "Hi," and for a brief moment, everything felt normal.
I joined in. We played.
Tag. Ball. The slide.
For once, I wasn't just a miserable accident waiting to happen. I was part of something, a fleeting moment of bliss.
And then, it happened.
That twig. The devil's toothpick. The thing that would undo everything.
I tripped.
Faceplant.
Classic me.
And then—like a force of nature—a beast appeared.
A dog.
But not just any dog. No. This was a demon dog. Foam dripping from its mouth, eyes blazing with hunger, teeth that looked like they could tear through steel.
It stood there, growling like a beast from some forgotten nightmare.
I panicked. My mind screamed RUN, but my legs betrayed me.
The dog lunged.
And then, like a knight in shining armor—no, better—like a Giga Chad of elementary school, he appeared.
Renji Komoriyama.
With a broken stick in hand, he stood between me and the beast.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice calm, composed, like this was all just another day.
I blinked, trying to catch my breath, still half in shock.
"N-No... thank you," I stammered, voice trembling.
"You're safe now," he said with a smile that could have lit up the world.
And then, with the confidence of a kid who had never known failure, he added, "I'm Renji. You?"
"S-Souta Tetsuya."
He chuckled. "Wait, you're the kid from that big mansion, right?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Haha, I thought rich kids didn't bleed. Guess you proved me wrong."
And then, in that moment of chaos, of pure unfiltered panic, I laughed. It was real. It was the first genuine laugh I'd had in years.
"Want to hang out? I know a place to play. It's dog-free. Mostly."
And that was it.
A friendship was born.
For the first time in my miserable, cursed life… I felt lucky.
But don't be fooled. Misfortune doesn't take vacations.
It'll be back.