The Library's Trap

Wednesday, 7:30 PM. The third floor of the library, Media Room.

Airi Sakura sat before the editing console, wearing headphones, her gaze fixed intently on the screen. On the display was footage from the Sports Festival—the moment Ayanokoji touched the wall at the end of the swimming relay, slowed down, then slowed down again.

A difference of 0.02 seconds.

She zoomed in on the frame; the detail of his shoulder making contact with the pool wall was clearly visible. It followed the rules. Sakayanagi Arisu had lost.

"Great shot," Kei Karuizawa's voice suddenly rang out from behind her.

Airi jumped, nearly leaping out of her chair. "K-Karuizawa-san? How did you..."

"I'm here to keep you company." Kei pulled up a chair and sat down, idly picking up a photography magazine from the table to flip through. "It's not safe to be here alone at night, is it?"

"I... I'm used to it," Airi whispered, her eyes drifting involuntarily toward the door.

The door to the Media Room was closed, but the glass pane offered a view of the corridor outside. The lights were bright, and the hallway was empty.

It was too quiet.

Kei set the magazine down, pulled two cans of coffee from her bag, and handed one to her. "Ayanokoji asked me to come. He said someone might try to give you trouble tonight."

Airi's hand trembled, and the coffee nearly slipped to the floor.

"Don't be afraid." Kei opened her own coffee and took a sip. "We'll just wait here. Let's see who shows up."

Time ticked by, second by second.

7:45 PM.

7:50 PM.

8:00 PM sharp.

The lights in the Media Room flickered suddenly.

Airi tensed up. Kei slowly set down her coffee can and reached into her jacket pocket—her phone was inside, already set to speed dial, a direct line to Ayanokoji.

The lights flickered again, then cut out completely.

The entire Media Room plunged into darkness, with only the faint glow of the editing console screen remaining.

"Don't move," Kei whispered, pulling Airi down to crouch beneath the desk.

Footsteps echoed from the corridor.

More than one person.

The door handle to the Media Room turned, but the door was locked—Ayanokoji had instructed her to lock it immediately upon entering.

"Tch," a voice sounded from outside, full of irritation. It was Daichi Ishizaki. "It's locked."

"Kick it in," another voice replied—a stranger, rough and gravelly.

Kei held her breath, using the faint light from her phone screen to illuminate the space under the desk. She saw Airi shivering and reached out to grab her hand—it was ice cold.

A thud came from the door. Once, twice; the lock began to give way.

"Are you ready?" Kei whispered in Airi's ear. "On the count of three, you run to the cabinet on the right. There's an emergency exit behind it."

Airi nodded firmly.

The third impact.

The door swung open.

Two dark figures rushed in, holding flashlights, their beams sweeping wildly through the dark room.

"Where are they?"

"They have to be inside, they can't have gone far."

Kei took a deep breath and began the count: "One... two..."

"Three!"

She lunged out from under the desk, grabbed a metal tripod from the table, and swung it hard at the nearest person's shin!

"Argh!" A scream of pain.

The flashlight dropped to the floor, and in the chaotic, sweeping beam, Kei saw who it was—Daichi Ishizaki, along with a Class C boy she didn't recognize, his face thick with muscle.

Airi had already bolted toward the cabinet as planned.

But just as she reached for the handle of the emergency exit, a hand suddenly shot out from the darkness and seized her wrist.

"Where do you think you're going, little cutie?"

The voice was cold and sinister.

Albert stepped out from the shadows, the bandage on his right knee visible in the dim light. He wasn't putting weight on his injured leg, but his left hand gripped Airi's wrist like an iron vice, causing tears to well up in her eyes from the pain.

"Let her go!" Kei tried to rush forward, but Ishizaki had already scrambled up to block her path.

"Kei Karuizawa." Ishizaki grinned, blood at the corner of his mouth—from where the tripod had struck him. "Did you really think you were the only ones who came prepared?"

He clapped his hands.

The lights in the Media Room flickered back on.

It wasn't just Ishizaki, Albert, and that unfamiliar boy.

There was one more person standing at the doorway.

Kakeru Ryuen.

He leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets, wearing that cat-and-mouse smirk of his.

"Good evening, you two." He strolled in slowly, glancing around the room. "Nice environment. Perfect for... a chat."

Karuizawa's heart sank.

It was a trap.

This wasn't harassment aimed at Sakura; it was a snare set for her. Ryuen knew Ayanokoji would send someone to protect Sakura, and she was the most likely candidate.

"Kushida's intel is spot on, isn't it?" Ryuen walked over to the editing console and glanced at the screen. "Oh? Still studying that match? What's the matter? Can't accept the loss?"

He turned toward Karuizawa. "But tonight, we aren't talking about the Sports Festival. We're going to talk about... something else."

He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened a photo, and held it up in front of Karuizawa.

The photo showed her during middle school, wearing her uniform, standing in an alleyway with a trembling girl kneeling before her. The expression on her face back then—cold, even bordering on impatient.

"Recognize her?" Ryuen asked.

Karuizawa's face turned pale.

"I heard that back in middle school, you were the leader of a little clique," Ryuen said, turning the phone screen toward Sakura. "You specialized in bullying girls who were introverted and too afraid to fight back. Like... someone like Sakura here?"

Sakura's eyes widened as she looked at Karuizawa.

"No... that's not how it was..." Karuizawa's voice trembled.

"Isn't it?" Ryuen swiped to the next photo—a screenshot of a chat log where Karuizawa's account threatened a girl: "If you don't pay up, I'll make sure you're humiliated in front of the whole school."

"These... these are faked..." Karuizawa gritted her teeth.

"Truth or lies don't matter," Ryuen put his phone away, his smile cruel. "What matters is, if these photos and chat logs appeared in the Class D group chat, or on the school bulletin board... do you think anyone would still believe you've 'turned over a new leaf'? Would a goody-two-shoes like Yosuke Hirata still defend you? Would Ayanokoji Kiyotaka still trust you?"

Psychological warfare.

Precise and vicious.

Karuizawa felt like she couldn't breathe. The past she had desperately tried to bury surged up like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her.

But suddenly, she remembered what Ayanokoji had said last night.

--"Because you said you wanted to change. And I believe you meant it."

She took a deep breath, lifted her head, and looked Ryuen straight in the eye. "So what? You want to use this to threaten me? Make me betray Class D? Or make me harm Ayanokoji?"

Ryuen raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You didn't break down. Interesting."

"Cut the crap," Karuizawa stepped forward. "Go ahead and leak it. But let me tell you—Class D won't abandon me just because of this. And as for Ayanokoji... the thing he hates most is being threatened."

"Is that so?" Ryuen laughed. "Then take a guess: what happens if I take Sakura away right now?"

Albert tightened his grip, and Sakura let out a cry of pain.

Karuizawa's pupils constricted.

This was the real target—not her, but Sakura.

"Let her go!" She lunged forward, but Ishizaki and the other boy stepped up simultaneously, pinning her arms from either side.

"Don't be so impatient." Ryuen walked over to Sakura, reached out, and pinched her chin, forcing her to look up. "What a pretty face. If there were a few scars on it, wouldn't it be more... 'artistic'?"

He pulled a small knife from his pocket, the blade glinting coldly under the lights.

Sakura was shaking all over, tears streaming down her face.

"Ryuen!" Karuizawa struggled violently. "If you dare touch her, I—"

"You what?" Ryuen turned to look at her. "Kill me? Or report it to the school? Please, there are no cameras here; we already disabled the ones in the Media Room. Who can prove we did it?"

He turned back, the tip of the blade moving slowly toward Sakura's cheek.

"Besides, even if you did find out, so what? At most, I'd lose a few class points. Expulsion? Impossible. But tell me, after a trauma like this, do you think Sakura-san would even be able to keep attending school?"

The tip of the blade was only a centimeter from Sakura's cheek.

Karuizawa's mind went blank. What should she do? Call for help? They probably had more people outside. Fight back? She couldn't win. Compromise? That would only make Ryuen push further.

Just as the blade was about to touch skin—

The door to the Media Room was suddenly kicked open.

It wasn't just bumped; it was kicked off its hinges entirely, slamming into the opposite wall with a deafening crash.

Everyone froze.

Standing in the doorway was Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, his school blazer draped over his shoulders, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his forearms. There was no expression on his face, but his eyes were as cold as Siberian permafrost.

Behind him were Yosuke Hirata and Ken Sudo—Sudo's foot was still wrapped in bandages, but he was gripping a baseball bat in his hand.

"Yo, quite the party you've got here." Ayanokoji walked in, glancing at the situation in the room. "Ryuen, bringing so many people to the library this late at night—are you looking for a tutoring session?"

Ryuen's expression darkened instantly.

He slowly withdrew his knife and released Airi Sakura: "How did you..."

"How did I know?" Ayanokoji finished for him, pulling a phone from his pocket and playing a recording.

Kikyo Kushida's voice: "Ryuen's plan is for Wednesday at 8:00 PM in the library Media Room, targeting Airi Sakura. He's bringing Ishizaki, Albert, and an outsider thug named 'Kurokawa.' The goal is to capture her and then threaten Karuizawa."

The recording ended.

Ryuen whipped his head around to glare at Ishizaki, his eyes murderous.

Ishizaki trembled in terror: "No, it wasn't me... I didn't tell Kushida about the thug..."

"Of course it wasn't you," Ayanokoji said. "Shiho Manabe told her. And as for Manabe... I was the one who sent her."

A double-blind counter-espionage.

Ryuen clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"When did you start setting this up?" he gritted out.

"From the moment Kushida gave you that information." Ayanokoji walked over to Karuizawa and signaled for Ishizaki and the other boy to let go. They glanced at Ryuen, and upon receiving a silent nod, they released Karuizawa.

Karuizawa immediately ran to Airi Sakura, pulling her away from Albert. Albert tried to block her, but a single glance from Ayanokoji caused him to freeze.

"The information Kushida gave you was real," Ayanokoji continued. "But she intentionally left out one detail—I was the one who told her to give it to you. She knew you would use it, and I knew exactly how you would use it."

He paused. "So tonight, you thought you were the one fishing, but in reality, I was the one who set the bait, and I was the one who prepared the hook."

The Media Room fell into a deathly silence.

Ryuen stared intensely at Ayanokoji, then suddenly laughed, his shoulders shaking: "Good, very good! Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, you really are something else!"

He wiped away a tear of laughter. "Fine, you win this round. Take them and go."

"That's not all," Ayanokoji said. "Give me the originals of those photos and chat logs. All backups, too."

Ryuen's smile vanished.

"On what grounds?"

"On these grounds." Ayanokoji produced another phone and pulled up surveillance footage—a recording of the transaction between Shiho Manabe and Masayoshi Hashimoto, along with a recording of Manabe confessing that Ryuen had ordered her to poison the target.

"If I hand these over to the Student Council, how many class points do you think Class C will lose?" Ayanokoji asked. "And you personally—do you think you'll be expelled?"

Ryuen's face twitched.

A few seconds later, he pulled out his own phone, deleted the files, and tossed it to Ayanokoji: "The originals. The backups are on the cloud; the password is Ishizaki's birthday. Delete them yourself."

Ayanokoji caught the phone, verified the deletion, and handed it to Hirata.

"Now, get out," he said.

Ryuen took one last look at him, his gaze like that of a man looking at a corpse.

"The game isn't over yet, Ayanokoji," he whispered. "Next time, I'll make you crawl and beg me."

He left with his men.

Only the members of Class D remained in the Media Room.

Karuizawa held the still-shaking Airi Sakura, finally letting out a breath as her legs gave way, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Ayanokoji walked over to her and extended a hand.

She stared at him blankly.

"You did well," he said.

Karuizawa grabbed his hand, pulled herself up, and suddenly hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder as she wept.

It wasn't a breakdown, but a release of pent-up terror from surviving the ordeal.

Ayanokoji stiffened for a moment before finally patting her back gently.

"It's over now," he said.

Hirata and Sudo exchanged a look and quietly slipped out, pulling the door shut—though the door was already broken.

A few minutes later, Karuizawa pulled away, her eyes red as she said, "Thank you..."

"Don't mention it." Ayanokoji looked at Airi Sakura. "How is she?"

"Terrified, but she should be fine," Karuizawa wiped her tears. "What Ryuen said earlier... about my middle school days..."

"I know," Ayanokoji interrupted. "Most of it was fabricated, and the rest was exaggerated. You aren't that person anymore."

Karuizawa felt a lump in her throat, wanting to cry again.

But this time, she held it back.

"What do we do now?" she asked. "Ryuen won't just let this go."

"I know," Ayanokoji looked toward the door. "That's why he won't wait long. The next attack might be—"

His phone rang.

It was Honami Ichinose calling, but when he answered, a man's voice came through:

"Kiyotaka Ayanokoji? Honami Ichinose is in my hands now. If you want her to be safe, come to the basement of the Old School Building alone. Don't bring anyone, don't call the police, or else..."

The call was disconnected.

For the first time, Ayanokoji's expression truly darkened.