After taking on the task of observing Horikita Suzune, Kushida Kikyo felt as if she'd put on a special pair of glasses. Her gaze began following that solitary black figure almost against her will, like a hunter sizing up elusive prey—or someone standing before a mirror, puzzled as she studied the reflection that was her polar opposite.
At first, the observation was tedious and unpleasant. Horikita Suzune's routine was as precise as an atomic clock. Classroom, Library, cafeteria, sitting alone in a corner and quickly finishing her Mountain Vegetable Set Meal, then the girls' dormitory: the same four places, day after day. She hardly spoke to anyone beyond what was strictly necessary. Whenever someone tried to strike up a conversation, she always replied in the briefest, coldest terms—or simply ignored them.
When Kushida reported to Feng Qi in Dorm 129, her tone was full of impatience and disdain. "...That's about it. She's like a robot programmed to do the same things over and over. I really don't see the point of watching her. All she has in her head is studying and that whole 'getting stronger on her own' theory of hers. I doubt there's room for anything else."
Feng Qi didn't seem bothered by her complaints. He only asked for details. "What does she read in the Library? Besides textbooks and reference books."
Kushida tried to remember. "...I think there are some pretty advanced books. Principles of Economics? And some... um, Introductory Law Books, I think?"
Feng Qi nodded and made a note in his notebook. It fit Horikita's personality. She was consciously broadening her knowledge to prepare for the future, but her interests leaned toward theory and rules.
"Does she watch the other students while she eats in the cafeteria?"
"Watch them?" Kushida scoffed. "She can't even be bothered to lift her eyelids. You'd think looking at us would contaminate her eyes."
The turning point came during lunch break one day. Hirata Yousuke and Karuizawa Kei got into a minor disagreement over whether to use the Public Fund to buy Sports Equipment first or improve the food. Hirata insisted that sports equipment would benefit more people, while Karuizawa thought morale was low and a good meal would be more practical. Neither raised their voice, and both remained fairly restrained, but their argument still drew some attention in the quiet classroom.
Kushida instinctively prepared to step in and mediate. It was a reflex, part of her "Angel" persona. But just as she stood up, she caught sight of Horikita Suzune out of the corner of her eye.
Horikita wasn't keeping to herself as usual, reading or resting. She remained seated upright, but her gaze had turned toward Hirata and Karuizawa. Her face was still expressionless, but Kushida clearly saw her slender fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the open page, once, then again. Her eyes were no longer completely indifferent. Instead, they held an... extremely subtle focus, like someone observing an experiment. There was even a hint of something almost imperceptible... confusion? As if she couldn't understand why anyone would argue over something so "trivial."
The discovery made Kushida's heart tighten. She immediately sat back down and pretended to tidy her bag. Then she secretly used her phone to snap a photo of Horikita's slight movement and expression. Feng Qi's instructions had included collecting as much visual evidence as possible, if it was safe.
That evening in Dorm 129, Kushida showed Feng Qi the photo on her phone and reported what she'd seen. A look of understanding flashed in his eyes.
"Confusion..." He repeated her description, lightly tapping his fingertips on the table. "She's starting to find the 'Group Dynamics' she looks down on incomprehensible. That's a sign she isn't completely cut off. On a subconscious level, she's trying to understand. She just hasn't found a way to fit in—or, more likely, she disdains the methods of fitting in that she considers 'low-level.'"
He looked at Kushida. "You did well. That detail is valuable."
The praise made Kushida feel a little pleased, but she still said, "It was just luck... Still, I doubt anything will change, even if she is a little confused. Someone like her..."
"Change is gradual, especially for someone like her." Feng Qi cut her off. "It's like a glacier moving. You can hardly see it with the naked eye, but it's still happening. Your job is to keep catching signs of that movement."
After a pause, he gave her a new instruction. "Next, pay attention to whether she shows that kind of 'observation' or 'confusion' toward any particular person. For example... Ayanokoji Kiyotaka."
"Ayanokoji?" Kushida looked even more confused. "That guy who's completely unremarkable? Why would Horikita pay attention to him?"
"Instinct," Feng Qi replied, without elaborating. He had a feeling that Ayanokoji's peculiar "ordinariness" might draw the unconscious attention of someone like Horikita, who pursued "perfection"—like the sole flaw on an otherwise smooth surface.
Kushida was still full of questions, but she agreed anyway. As she continued observing Horikita, she noticed her own feelings changing in subtle ways. A trace of something hard to describe... curiosity? had crept into the pure hatred and disdain she'd felt at first. She found herself comparing herself to Horikita without meaning to.
Kushida Kikyo maintained a vast web of relationships through flawless disguises and tireless performances. She longed to be loved and needed by everyone, yet deep down she was full of loathing and exhaustion. Horikita Suzune, on the other hand, had abandoned human relationships entirely. She stood alone, striving to become stronger through sheer effort. She seemed at ease, but perhaps she, too, carried an unseen burden of loneliness and pressure.
Their two ways of life were polar opposites, like the two sides of a mirror. Which one was more pitiful? Which one was more genuine? Kushida found she couldn't answer. The comparison made her restless, but she couldn't stop.
During a math class, the teacher posed a difficult problem, and Horikita almost immediately came up with a clear, accurate solution. Watching the calm profile of Horikita's face, so certain of herself, Kushida felt something for the first time that wasn't born of hatred—a faint emotion she herself didn't want to admit to... envy. She envied how Horikita could rely so purely on her own abilities, without having to struggle in the tangled mire of human relationships like she did.
She reported both these complex feelings and her observation that Horikita didn't seem especially interested in Ayanokoji to Feng Qi.
As Feng Qi listened to her report and watched the confusion and inner turmoil she unconsciously wore on her face, he knew that the task of observing Horikita was beginning to affect Kushida in turn. He'd expected as much, and even welcomed it. Only when Kushida began questioning the way she'd always survived would she grow more reliant on him, her sole "guide" and the one person who "accepted" her.
"Keep observing," he said, as always. But his gaze seemed to see straight through her soul. "Observe her, and observe yourself. Figure out what you really want, Kikyo."
Kushida shuddered and jerked her head up to look at him. What did she want? To be loved and needed, to stand at the top, to trample everyone she hated beneath her feet... But was that really what she wanted? Or were those desires, lost amid countless fake smiles, things she herself could no longer see clearly?
Feng Qi's question was like a seed planted in the soil of her heart, loosened by her observations of Horikita. And through Kushida, that special "mirror," he had gained a clearer sense of the undercurrents beneath Horikita Suzune's icy surface. The time for the next approach was slowly drawing near.
Before you continue