Fingerprint!!!

After dinner, Uesugi Hara returned straight to his dormitory.

He sat at his desk, his fingertips occasionally flipping through the pages of a mystery novel borrowed from the library, yet his gaze kept drifting toward the terminal screen—it was displaying the real-time location of Kushida Kikyo, and every time his eyes returned to it, it felt like a silent confirmation of something.

Spread out on the desk were a voice recorder and a pinhole camera, their metal casings gleaming coldly under the desk lamp—clearly, Uesugi Hara had already set his trap, waiting for tonight's "prey" to be snared.

He had been sitting stiffly at his desk for two and a half hours, his fingertips tapping the surface unconsciously, his patience nearly worn thin. Just as his fingers paused, almost ready to put away the terminal and give up, the light dot representing Kushida Kikyo on the screen finally moved.

But Uesugi Hara did not stand up immediately. He stared fixedly at the terminal screen, watching the dot move at a leisurely pace until its trajectory clearly pointed toward an increasingly remote area—the moment he confirmed it, a cold, sharp arc suddenly hooked the corner of his mouth. "Looks like my luck is decent."

His fingertips neatly stowed the terminal, and he shoved the voice recorder and pinhole camera into his pockets, his footsteps as light as a cat's as he pushed the door open and set off without a sound.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway flickered on one by one with his footsteps, only to extinguish rapidly behind him, as if something were swallowing the light.

His fingers tightened slightly around the terminal, the screen's glow reflecting in his pupils, perfectly overlapping with the movement of the distant dot—Kushida Kikyo's location had turned into the narrow, rarely used path behind the dormitory area.

The switch of the voice recorder pressed against his palm in his pocket, a tangible, real sensation.

Uesugi Hara lightened his steps as he trod over dry leaves, the bamboo branches brushing against each other in the night wind, creating a faint rustling that perfectly masked his movements.

The terminal's dot finally came to a stop beside the lake ahead. Uesugi Hara crept over cautiously, and a few seconds later, a blurred figure appeared in the gap where the moonlight filtered through.

Uesugi Hara stood still against a tree, his line of sight just enough to see the figure standing before the lake's railing. His fingertips touched the pinhole camera and voice recorder in his pocket, and the arc at the corner of his mouth deepened.

He turned on the pinhole camera, connected it to his phone, and stuck it near the button on his collar, then switched on the voice recorder in his pocket.

Everything was ready.

—Alright, let's begin.

"Die! Die!! Die!!!"

The voice came from the other side of the railing. The figure under the moonlight—Kushida Kikyo—was gripping the rusted iron railing with both hands, kicking at it with savage intensity.

Every kick carried the force of a gale; the railing rattled with a metallic clang, and her voice, wrapped in the vibration of the metal, was as sharp as shattering glass:

"Ah... why don't they all just die..."

Another kick landed on a joint of the railing, sending flakes of rust cascading down. She didn't seem to notice that her heel had worn crooked, staring only at the dent in the railing with a vacant, intense gaze: "That damn bitch... isn't she just a little smarter and prettier than me? Being hailed as the 'flower on the high peak' by those blind fools, what is she still acting so high and mighty for?"

Uesugi Hara leaned against the tree, remaining silent.

"That bitch Horikita! Her personality is as rotten as moldy bread, why does everyone look at her?!" Kushida Kikyo turned abruptly and kicked the railing again. Her toe struck the iron edge, but she seemed not to feel the pain. "I lowered my status, in front of so many people! And she dared to treat me like this?! Not giving me any face at all?!"

"That idiot Sudo Ken!" She suddenly raised her leg and stomped fiercely against the base of the railing. "If you don't know how to talk to girls, just shut up! Why should I have to play basketball with him?! Does that stinking sport suit me at all?!"

Her emotions were like a wildfire out of control, burning ever brighter. She grabbed the railing and shook it violently, rust dust coating her shoulders: "That baka Ike Kanji! Calling me 'Kikyo-chan' all day long! Who's close to you?! I have to explain it to my friends every single time, it's so annoying!"

"The most hateful one is Yamauchi Haruki!" She suddenly let go, stepped back, and kicked the railing hard, causing herself to stumble. "That vermin! Always hovering in front of me, striking those poses he thinks are cool... it makes my toes curl from the cringe! Why does such a person even exist?!"

Seeing that the timing was right, the terminal in Uesugi Hara's pocket suddenly vibrated, popping up a message notification—one he had arranged on purpose.

"Who is it?! Who's there?!" Kushida Kikyo's voice tightened, wrapped in a mix of panic and intimidation, her fingertips unconsciously clutching the hem of her uniform skirt.

"It's me, Uesugi Hara." He stepped slowly out from the shadows of the trees, the moonlight plating the shoulder line of his wine-red uniform with a cold silver edge.

"Oh, is Kushida-san out for a night stroll too?" He deliberately softened his tone, as casual as a normal greeting.

"You, you heard it?" The girl looked up sharply, her irises shrinking into tense little circles in the dim light. Her earlobes were burning, yet she still forced herself to look calm and took a half-step forward.

"If I said I didn't hear anything... would you believe me?" Uesugi Hara lowered his eyes, his gaze masking a dark, surging interest.

"If you dare to tell anyone—I, I won't let you off!" Kushida's neck stiffened, her usually sweet, soft voice trembling, yet she maintained a threatening posture, her hair swaying rapidly in the night wind.

"And what if I did tell?" He raised an eyebrow, deliberately throwing the question back at her.

"Then I, I'll go around telling everyone that you tried to rape me!" The girl stiffened her neck and took a half-step back, her nails digging almost into her palms, her eyelashes fluttering violently, the corners of her eyes flushed with a physiological red.

"That's slander, you know." Uesugi Hara's tone was steady, his jawline sharp under the moonlight.

"It doesn't matter, because it wouldn't be slander." Kushida suddenly tilted her head up, grabbed his wrist, and pulled hard, pressing her palm against the back of his hand and pushing it onto her uniform. She even deliberately pressed his palm deeper into her chest. "Your fingerprints are all over me now, there's even evidence... I'm being serious, you know." Her final note was as light as a sigh, yet the corners of her lips curled into a near-obsessive smile, the redness at the corners of her eyes mixed with a fierce edge.

Uesugi Hara didn't move, letting his palm graze the soft, elastic texture; the sensation was indeed better than he had expected.

"Pervert!" Kushida hurriedly shook his hand off, but because she had pressed so tightly, the hand brushed against that softness as it was flung away, startling the "white rabbit" into a bounce.

Uesugi Hara secretly raised an eyebrow, having harvested another pleasant tactile memory.

Kushida felt the tingling afterglow from that spot, her face flushing bright red, yet she still stared at him with a stiff neck: "Listen well, if you dare to betray me... I, I will

It wasn't until the figure of Kushida Kikyo had completely vanished around the street corner, and even the sound of her footsteps had been swallowed clean by the night breeze, that Uesugi Hara finally let his shoulder slump away from the bamboo trunk after a full three minutes.

He raised a hand to massage his aching jaw—the stoic, expressionless mask he had held in front of her had long since been shattered by the laughter that had been churning in his chest for ages.

"Heh..." A low chuckle broke through first, followed by laughter that grew deeper and deeper. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, his fingertips still lingering with the sensation of the moment, mixed with the scent of her hair in the night air, serving as an intriguing footnote.

"The threat of a two-faced beauty, still carrying a hint of poorly concealed shame and annoyance..." He straightened up, turned off the camera, and fished the voice recorder from his pocket to press pause. The waveform on the screen still held the fluctuations of her voice, shifting from viciousness to sugary sweetness. "This hunt is far more interesting than any mystery novel."

Uesugi Hara tugged at the corner of his mouth and turned to walk toward the dormitory. The moonlight stretched his shadow long; the suppressed laughter still hung on his lips, but the spark of interest in his eyes was even more intense than when he had arrived—this "hunt" had clearly only just begun.