Netori: I Shall Steal All Of My Enemies' Women For Revenge! Chapter 262: In The Village

Haruto took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. After a mont, he opened the diary again and continued reading. The entries went on for a few more pages, ending roughly three months later.

---

16 July, Year XXXX

Daddy suddenly disappeared the next day. When I asked Mommy, she glared at and said,

"Your father is dead."

I was shocked and started crying. I called her a liar.

She slapped my cheek, destroyed my room, burned everything Daddy gave , and locked inside for days.

But I wasn't lonely.

He stayed with . He promised he would take far away from here one day.

Haruto, I love you so much.

---

Haruto stared at the page, unmoving. Slowly, he closed the diary and placed it back on the desk.

So the boy in Ayaka's story was not Ren.

It had been him.

His chest felt tight as pieces fell into place, only to open new questions. If that was the case, then why had she told a different fairy tail to him when they were in the library that day.

'Is her mory disturbed too?' he wondered.

No. That did not feel right.

The way she looked at him. The way she loved him. Ayaka rembered everything. Sothing had happened in between that he didn't understand at all.

Haruto wanted to ask her but for now, he let the thought rest. Ayaka needed to sleep. And he had things he needed to do.

Haruto carefully returned the diary to its place, closed the door, and locked the room again, leaving it exactly as it had been. Then he left the house, climbed into his car, and drove out.

He parked near the family restaurant and decided to walk instead.

'Should I use the Mask of the Doppelganger?' he thought as he moved through the village.

'No. One minute per person is too short. I'll save it for the temple.'

As he passed one of the smaller restaurants, a voice suddenly called out to him.

"Haruto, right? Oh, you're visiting your grandpa and grandma again?"

He turned to see the shop owner, a middle aged woman waving at him enthusiastically.

Haruto smiled. He knew her well. Haruka loved the curry from this place and always insisted on coming here whenever they visited their grandparents.

"Yes, Mrs. Suzuki," he replied. "I have so things to take care of today."

He paused, then an idea struck him. "Is the restaurant open yet? I'd love to eat your curry again."

"Oh, not yet," she said with a laugh. "You know us. We only open at night."

'Right,' Haruto thought. 'That's why Haruka always drags here after dark.'

"But my husband can cook sothing for you," Mrs. Suzuki added warmly. "Co inside. I'll call him."

"Thank you. Sorry for the trouble," Haruto said as he followed her in.

Almost imdiately, he heard her shouting at her husband from the back, telling him to make one curry.

Mr. Suzuki was clearly annoyed. This was an izakaya, and the nu changed daily. Curry was usually only made during sumr holidays.

Still, the mont he stepped into the open kitchen and saw Haruto sitting on one of the stools, his irritation lted into a wide grin.

"Oi, kid. You're here again?" he laughed. "It's been months, hasn't it? You usually only co once or twice a year."

Haruto laughed back. "Yeah. I brought soone with . She said she missed her hotown."

"Oh?" Mr. Suzuki raised an eyebrow. "A girlfriend already? Good for you!"

"Well… sothing like that."

"Wait a bit," Mr. Suzuki said. "My wife is buying curry blocks. We don't usually make it this season."

"You don't have to do that," Haruto said quickly as he accepted a cup of warm tea. "Anything you have is fine."

Mr. Suzuki laughed. "Don't be like that. We're basically family. But if you're really hungry, I'll make you oyakodon instead."

He turned to the stove, chopping onions, green onions, and boneless chicken thighs with practiced ease before cracking the eggs.

Haruto waited quietly, sipping his tea, his gaze drifting to the old grandfather clock on the wall.

It read 11:00 AM.

"Here's the curry block!" Mrs. Suzuki's voice rang out from the back.

She stopped short when she saw her husband already cooking sothing else, her eyes widening.

"I bought this and you made a different dish?"

He did not even look guilty. "Haruto said he was bored of curry and wanted to try sothing else. Besides, you took too long."

"You—" she snapped, irritation rising imdiately.

Their argunt sparked just like that, voices overlapping while Haruto sat there, smiling faintly and sipping his tea. When the tension finally eased, he spoke up gently.

"I'll take the curry too," he said. "So please don't worry, Mrs. Suzuki."

Her expression softened instantly. "Oh, you're too kind," she said, already moving to help her husband. "You always eat so well."

When the oyakodon was finished, Haruto ate quietly, praising the taste as they talked about small things from the past. The mood relaxed again, warm and familiar.

That was when Haruto knew this was his chance.

"Was there ever a rumor about my father?" he asked casually. "You know. About an affair."

The couple froze. Both of them were mid-motion, knives hovering over the cutting board as they stared at him.

Mrs. Suzuki laughed awkwardly. "Of course not. Your father loved your mother very much."

Haruto exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping as his eyes glossed over slightly.

"I don't think so," he said quietly. "He beca a drunk and a gambler after she died. He almost hit my sister once."

Mrs. Suzuki gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh… I'm so sorry, dear."

Haruto nodded, swallowing hard. His voice trembled just enough to sound real.

"I'm only telling you this because you're like family to ," he continued.

"But one night, he was really drunk. He kept calling another woman's na, Mira." He lifted his gaze, eting theirs fully. "It reminded of that old rumor."

He looked at them with wide, vulnerable eyes. The sa expression he used so easily on the won who trusted him.

'Co on,' he thought calmly. 'Take the bait.'

The Suzukis exchanged a glance and sighed.

Mr. Suzuki was the first to speak. "There was a rumor," he admitted slowly. "About your father and Mari Yoshida. People talked about how you and her daughter look alike."

Mrs. Suzuki nodded reluctantly. "Everyone knew," she added softly. "Even your poor mother…"

Haruto's fingers curled tightly against the counter as he lifted his head, eyes burning as if he were holding back anger.

"Then where did it start?" he asked. "I an, rumors won't just start like that, right?"