# 759
Chapter 760: Father...
Kyōsuke lifted his hand from the 【Illusory Pupil】, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth once more.
He gazed at the two departing figures visible through the window for a moment, then wiped away the blood at his lips and turned his attention back to the young man lying on the bed.
His gaze gradually softened.
Beneath the pitch-black sky, the city beyond the window lay in absolute silence, save for the rolling thunder echoing in the distance. The glaring blue light surged at the city's center, occasionally illuminating a corner of the dim room.
Kyōsuke sat on the pristine bedside, the lightning flickering through the window casting his silhouette against the wall like a towering giant, silently watching over the white-haired youth.
After a long while, he slowly rose and moved toward the nearby desk.
Bracing himself against the tabletop with both hands, he艰难地 lowered himself into the chair. His fingers trembled uncontrollably—his body had reached its limit.
A faint golden light flickered on the hilt of the 【Illusory Pupil】, and after a moment, Kyōsuke's form wavered and shifted back to his original appearance.
His current physical condition was no longer sufficient to maintain his altered appearance.
Beside the desk under the night sky, a withered old man with fading white hair sat quietly, trembling as he picked up a fountain pen.
That was Yuzuri Kurotetsu's true form.
No longer that clean black short hair, no longer that handsome and handsome appearance, no longer that straight and proud posture... He hunched over, and patches of gray mottled his skin. Beneath those layered wrinkles was a face gaunt with terminal illness.
He raised his head, looking at himself in the mirror on the desk, and a bitter smile formed on his cracked lips.
I said I wanted to die looking like a qualified father... This state is far too disheveled.
Nevertheless, he shook his head. His right hand, spotted with gray patches, gripped the pen as he shakily wrote line after line on the white paper before him:
"Takishiro, I'm sorry.
Originally, I wanted to tell you all of this in person, but given my condition, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold on until you wake up. So I've decided to leave this note..."
The blinding lightning flashed beneath the distant night sky, the roar of explosions mingling with thunder, surging through the silent night. The white-haired, gravely ill old man sat beside the desk, utterly cut off from the world, writing his heart out with painstaking care.
After an unknown length of time, he slowly set down the pen. The浑浊的眼眸 finally held a trace of relief within them.
A weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Yuzuri Kurotetsu turned and glanced at the unconscious Yuzuri Takishiro, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.
He placed this letter alongside the 【Illusory Pupil】 on Yuzuri Takishiro's bedside, slowly stood up, draped the black coat from the rack over his shoulders, and coughing, pushed open the heavy door.
Click—
The door closed, and the room fell into silence once more.
In the howling wind and thunder, Yuzuri Kurotetsu shuffled away into the distance, his body hunched.
He didn't want Yuzuri Takishiro to see him like this.
Be it as a father or as Tokyo's former top host, he refused to die in such a state before Yuzuri Takishiro's eyes.
If a child woke up only to find their father's already-cold corpse... What kind of blow would that be for Yuzuri Takishiro?
So he decided to leave—alone, heading toward some unknown corner to die quietly.
Perhaps after the turmoil subsided, someone would discover a nameless corpse on the street, report it to the police, and the authorities would handle it. But that would be the extent of it.
No one would know that this corpse's name was Yuzuri Kurotetsu.
No one would know he was the father of a girl and a boy, and no one would know he had once been the brightest star shining over Tokyo's host industry.
After reading that letter, in Yuzuri Takishiro's heart, "Father" would forever be that tall, handsome figure who was willing to play video games with him and make him delicious katsu curry rice—Kyōsuke... Even though that wasn't Yuzuri Kurotetsu's true appearance, that was enough for him.
Leaving a father-shaped impression that wouldn't be resented—for Yuzuri Takishiro who had never met his father—this was all Yuzuri Kurotetsu wanted.
The current him... was too disheveled.
In the letter, he not only confessed that Uncle Kyōsuke was indeed Yuzuri Takishiro's father, but also recorded everything that had happened back then, including the existence of Yuzuri Nana and where she was...
As long as Yuzuri Takishiro read this letter, he could immediately understand the full story. Whether he would forgive him or not didn't matter, but Yuzuri Kurotetsu hoped that his daughter and son could eventually get along well.
In the biting wind and thunder, Yuzuri Kurotetsu wrapped his thin coat tighter around himself. The agony made him lean against the wall involuntarily, his body curling inward as he broke into violent coughing fits.
He coughed as if his heart and lungs were being torn apart.
After the coughing subsided, he slid down the wall and sat helplessly. He raised his eyes toward the direction of the small house, and a smile appeared on his lips.
Such an ending... Though it was bleak, his goal had been achieved after all.
He had met his son, lived with him for a period of time. Though he hadn't fulfilled his duties as a father, at least he had appeared in the boy's life—even if only for a fleeting few days.
Just...
In the end, he never got to hear Takishiro call him "Father" even once...
Yuzuri Kurotetsu let out a long sigh and slowly closed his eyes in the cold wind...
At that moment, a figure burst through the void, stepping firmly before Yuzuri Kurotetsu.
Snow-white hair dancing in the cold wind, that tall youth stood beneath the night sky. His cross-shaped pupils stared at the withered, gravely ill old man on the roadside, his eyes filled with deep confusion and anguish.
The moment he appeared, the cold wind and thunder utterly vanished from the surroundings.
This sudden silence made Yuzuri Kurotetsu, whose consciousness had been fading, struggle to回过神来. His clouded eyes lifted slowly, and the instant he saw the figure standing before him, his pupils constricted sharply.
Yuzuri Takishiro knelt down, gazing complexly at Yuzuri Kurotetsu sitting on the ground. After a moment's hesitation, he still extended both arms and gently embraced the withered white-haired old man.
His lips parted slightly:
"Father... I'm late."
Yuzuri Kurotetsu's body trembled violently.
Beneath the thundering sky, in an un trafficked corner of the street, a tall youth held the hunched old man. The lightning dragged their shadows long across the ground...
Yuzuri Kurotetsu opened his cracked lips, his voice hoarse:
"How did you... come here?"
"I can see your red dot location on the map. At this distance, it was easy to find you." Yuzuri Takishiro held him tightly, his voice soft,
"Father, your son... is more capable than you ever imagined."