Celebrity ex-girlfriend got revenge on me

Chapter 550 Memories in the Palm of My Hand

Four spotlights illuminated the stadium stage as if it were daytime. Witnessed by thousands of students in the audience and tens of thousands of viewers watching the live stream, Kitahara Kento stared blankly at his palm, his expression bewildered. Amamiya Masahiro stood beside him, clutching his clothes tightly, her knuckles white.

Their secret relationship, which they had been carefully hiding from the public eye, is now being laid bare before everyone's eyes.

"It's me, remember me!" Amamiya Masahiro's voice trembled with tears. She had tasted the salty bitterness of tears for what felt like the umpteenth time. Her red eyes remained fixed on the bewildered Kitahara Kento, filled with unwavering hope that perhaps the next second, he would turn and see her.

"Amamiya Masahiro," Kitahara Kento murmured, looking at his palm. "Amamiya."

The homeroom teacher, Aoki, sat on pins and needles, frequently glancing in the direction of the school board members. He couldn't understand why Kitahara Kento was staring blankly at his hands; this was a live broadcast.

Mr. Aoki rose slightly, coughed lightly, and tried to rouse the student from his reverie: "Kitahara-kun? Kitahara-kun?"

Kitahara Kento seemed to awaken from a dream, looking at Aoki-sensei with a hesitant expression. Countless questions surged in his mind: Why did he feel like he had forgotten something very important? Who was the electric piano backstage prepared for? And why did the name on his palm feel so familiar? The four characters "Amamiya Masahiro" were as hot as a brand, not the first time he had seen them, but as if he had silently recited them a thousand times in his heart.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Aoki-sensei asked in a low voice.

Kento Kitahara mechanically straightened his collar and reluctantly faced the audience. Despite the alarm bells ringing in his mind and a vague premonition urging him to "do something crucial," he had no choice but to act recklessly in front of the live broadcast camera.

"Thank you, everyone." He raised the microphone, his voice hoarse.

Amamiya Masahiro felt all her strength drain away in an instant, powerless to watch this tragic school festival. The person she loved most was about to personally bring this tragedy to an end, powerless to watch the scene before her eyes become increasingly blurred by tears.

"Why? I was about to say it, why now of all times?" She curled up at Kitahara's feet, murmuring silently, "Someone, please save me."

Her overwhelmed tear ducts blurred her vision with tears. Her body felt as if it had fallen into an icy abyss, stiffening, and an overwhelming sense of fear gradually consumed her.

When forgotten by society, she remained unmoved, even feeling a sense of relief and ease. When forgotten by her classmates, she was equally calm, because those people were all insignificant to her.

She even imagined that if one day even Sister Qian, her mother, and Sister Qinyin forgot about her, she might feel sad for a while. She felt that she could still bear it—as long as he still remembered.

As long as he remembers, even if the whole world forgets me, as long as I don't forget him, I won't be alone.

She had also imagined being forgotten by Kitahara Kento, but each time she started to imagine it, she immediately lost the courage to continue. She just fantasized that things wouldn't get to the worst possible outcome, or that he would remember her, or that he and Kaiki had found a solution. With these thoughts, she ended her imaginings with some solace.

But at this moment, the most terrifying thing still happened.

"The anniversary celebration has now come to an end."

The announcement sounded like a death knell. Amamiya Masahiro slowly crouched down, trembling as she leaned against Kitahara's legs. The departing crowd, like the receding tide, carried away the last glimmer of hope.

Hearing the final pronouncement from the person beside her, the distraught Amamiya Masahiro slowly squatted down as if all her strength had left her, crouching at Kitahara Kento's feet, her body leaning towards him, staring blankly as tears streamed from her eyes, and staring blankly as the crowd dispersed.

“It’s all over.” Amamiya Masahiro murmured absentmindedly.

"finished?"

Amamiya Masahiro trembled, slowly raising her head to look at Kitahara Kento, who was muttering to himself.

Kitahara Kento remained standing in the same spot, gazing intently at the name on his palm.

It was as if a dam had blocked his reservoir of memories, separating it into two parts and preventing him from accessing the other half of his memories no matter what.

"Amamiya Masahiro, you must be very important to me. Although I've forgotten, my body remembers. I can feel it very clearly."

"I wrote your name on my palm, stroke by stroke, so clearly and neatly, it's obvious that I don't want to forget you."

“If you can hear me now,” Kitahara Kento said with a wry smile, “I’m sorry, I’ve always had a good memory, but it still happened.”

“So now,” Kitahara Kento took a deep breath, looked around at the empty space, as if asking himself, or as if speaking to the person who had disappeared, “how can I find you again?”

"Can you hear it?"

"I can hear you!" Masahiro Amamiya hurriedly wiped away her tears and stood up.

"Hurry up, don't let today pass!" she cried anxiously.

Kitahara Kento pondered, closing his eyes to search for fragments of memory, repeatedly trying to break through the dam that blocked his memories, constantly repeating that familiar name, trying to recall any clues.

More than half of the people in the stadium had quietly left, but the effort was still in vain.

"Kitahara-kun."

Kitahara Kento opened his eyes and looked over at the sound. Not far from the stage, Takanashi Seifu was smiling and waving at him, silently shouting to him with a shouting gesture. Judging from his lip movements, it should be, "I'm going first."

Takanashi Seikaze left, and Kitahara Kento withdrew his gaze.

“I’m sorry, I have something to attend to and will be delayed for a while,” Kitahara Kento murmured, “and it might be more than a while.”

“You little rascal, Dad needs your help now.” Kitahara Kento put down the phone and took out his phone to himself. “You should be more experienced with things that defy common sense.”

I turned on my phone screen, opened my contacts, found my daughter's name, and just as I pressed the button, I suddenly received a call.

The mischievous boy also dialed it to him at the same time.

Kitahara Kento swiped his finger to answer the call.

"Even without Hanaya saying it, Daddy must have realized it by now, he's forgotten someone very important." Hanaya's voice carried a sly smile.

The daughter's tone was very confident, as if she had expected it all beforehand and that everything was under her control. There was a reassuring magic in her childish voice.

“Amamiya Masahiro,” Kitahara Kento blurted out.

A snap of fingers rang out: "That's right! It's Amamiya-neechan."

“Dad, now, let’s start thinking back to the day we first met.” “The afternoon when Dad and I first met.”

"The first time we met, that day I..." Kitahara Kento pondered, tracing back his memories.

It was April, the chill of spring had passed, and the warm southeast monsoon swept through Tokyo, the season when cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

On that afternoon when the blue sky was tinged with a line of red, he left the music store where he worked in Shinjuku and took the subway home with Nakamura.

Midway through the journey, Yuki Nakamura suddenly started talking to him about a transfer student.

"Have you heard, Kitahara-kun? That big star who won an award at the World Music Competition and became an overnight sensation is coming to our school tomorrow."

"The famous pianist, do you think she might transfer to our class? Oh, right, her name is..."

Kento Kitahara looked into his palm and murmured, "It's you. Masahiro Amamiya."

Although a long time has passed, the thoughts and physical reactions he had when he heard that name back then—this time, his body reminded him again.

Kitahara Kento placed his palm on his chest, feeling the unbearable pain mixed with melancholy thoughts churning within him.

“You’re more than just a familiar name to me,” he whispered.

There were also the advertising walls in the subway, the conversations of passersby, and when he returned home, he found a mischievous little boy sneaking around under the cherry blossom tree in his yard, tiptoeing and peeking into the house.

As soon as Huagu saw him, she rushed into his arms, crying out, "Daddy, I've finally found you!"

At the time, he thought he had encountered a honey trap and found it hard to believe that this little chuunibyou who claimed to have traveled through time to find his father was just a childish person.

Until he left Huagu and went inside, the little rascal locked outside shouted helplessly at him through the door.

"Dad, what I'm about to say might upset you, but it's the only way I can prove my identity!"

"Amamiya Masaki, she is Dad's first love and ex-girlfriend!"

Kitahara Kento's pupils contracted sharply in an instant. At that moment, the dam that seemed to block out his memories began to loosen.

"Childhood friends whose friendship has broken down." Kitahara Kento murmured softly, looking at the name in his palm.

The memory water seeped out along more and more cracks.

"A confidante with whom I share a deep-seated grudge."

These are his descriptions of his relationship with Masahiro Amamiya.

Kitahara Kento closed his eyes, his chest tightening with sobs.

"And my first love, my ex-girlfriend."

Memories burst forth, and more and more past events surge into the brain.

“I remember everything.” Kitahara Kento slowly clenched his fist, holding the name in his palm.

"On her first day transferring to the school and joining the class, I was suddenly attacked by her with a kick."

"After class, we met again behind the gymnasium in a daze and were forced to hide behind the air conditioner unit to eavesdrop on other people's confessions."

"The little notes she passed me were meant to annoy me. She wrote 'Who are you?' three times, pretending not to know me."

"There was also a fight in the woods, where she pinned me against a tree trunk, and then Mayu Kashiwagi caught us."

All those past events are now coming back to me: being secretly followed by her, being disguised by her to perform on the street, discovering and exposing her identity, and her psychological invisibility, and the troublesome side effects.

Kitahara Kento spoke as if to himself, or as if speaking across two dimensions of time and space to the person who had suddenly disappeared.

"You've clearly always liked me, always been secretly watching me, and even always been secretly following and spying on me."

“You’re afraid that I’ll find out all this, that it will embarrass you, make you ashamed, and make you unable to hold your head up in front of me.”

Kitahara Kento opened his eyes, chuckled, and looked around at the empty surroundings.

"You're afraid your thoughts will be exposed, afraid that I'll discover the things you've done that you're ashamed of—but actually, your real psychological need isn't that you don't want to be disturbed by others, it's..."

"But you don't want me to find out, right?"

“Those others who have forgotten you are just innocent bystanders. What an adorably silly psychological plea.” Kitahara Kento sighed as he looked around at the empty surroundings. “Maybe you didn’t even understand your own psychological plea. It was just a vague thought that arose in a moment, and you ended up like this in a daze. What an incredibly stupid shut-in.”

Kento Kitahara looked around, but still couldn't see Masahiro Amamiya.

He let out a long breath, unsurprised.

Amamiya, the homebody, had a silly inner desire that she didn't want him to discover.

Now that my abilities are out of control, finding her is not as simple as just remembering her.

Looking at the empty stage, Kitahara Kento said softly, "I believe that at this very moment, you are right beside me."

He turned to look at the students who were gradually leaving the stadium. Now, the number of people in the gymnasium was only about one-third of what it had been before.

On the phone, Hanaya's mischievous voice rang out again: "So, if you want to find Amamiya-neechan, Dad should know what to do, right?" His daughter's teasing tone carried a hint of enjoying the drama.

“I know.” Kitahara Kento gazed quietly at everything he saw, his eyes momentarily filled with melancholy.