Yosuke Hirata raised his right hand three centimeters above his desk, his clearly defined fingers slightly curled, as if holding an invisible question. "But, Chabashira-sensei, why haven't the points been distributed? Aren't they supposed to be distributed on the first of every month?"
Chabashira Sae's heels tapped lightly against the edge of the lectern twice, the folds of her dark suit skirt shifting with the movement. Her fingers tightened around the attendance book, the pads turning pale. "There was a dispute this time, so the first-years' points will be distributed a little later." Her gaze slithered toward the back right of the classroom, pausing briefly as it passed a certain seat. "I'm sorry to you all, but please wait a little longer." Sunlight slanted across her profile, making the unspoken meaning at the corner of her mouth all the clearer.
"What caused the dispute?" Hirata took half a step forward, a shadow falling across his straight back. "Chabashira-sensei, I think it would benefit all of us if the dispute were resolved as soon as possible." His voice remained gentle, as natural as if he were mediating a neighborhood disagreement.
The woman behind the lectern suddenly laughed, her laughter like ice chips clinking together. "Akito Miyake, why don't you explain what happened to everyone?" As she turned, the hem of her suit jacket swept in an arc. Her gaze fixed precisely on the boy in the back row, staring blankly at his textbook. The curve of her lips held unmistakable amusement, like a cat that had finally found the mouse hiding beneath the sofa.
Akito Miyake jerked his head up and sprang to his feet as if shocked. His chair legs scraped across the floor with a shrill squeal. His right index finger trembled as he pointed to his chest. "M-me? What did I do?" His fringe fell over his forehead with the sudden movement, partly covering his eyes, wide with bewilderment. His Adam's apple bobbed rapidly against his pale neck. "Sensei, are you sure you haven't made a mistake?"
"Miyake, you look like you don't know what this is about." Chabashira Sae slowly opened the attendance book and tapped one page with her fingernail. "It's about you seriously injuring a classmate." She deliberately drew out the last few words. They evaporated like water drops on a hot iron plate, yet left a searing heat in the air.
A gasp came from the back of the classroom. Akito Miyake froze in place, still pointing at himself, the window's drifting clouds reflected in his glasses. "Seriously injuring a classmate...?" His voice rose at the end, like a stone that had suddenly been tossed into the air.
"You seriously injured Daichi Ishizaki and two other Class C students." Chabashira Sae's voice abruptly went flat, like a scalpel slicing through calm skin.
"Seriously injured...?" Akito Miyake let out a sudden laugh, its brittle sound tinged with disbelief. "That's going way too far!" He slammed his right hand on the desk, making his textbook jump half an inch. "I did get into a fight with them, but I was just defending myself! When the three of them surrounded me, I barely even fought back!" He spread his hands, miming what had happened, his knuckles reddening with the effort. "They didn't even have a single scrape. How could they have been seriously injured?"
"Miyake, your account doesn't quite match the Class C students'." Chabashira Sae closed the attendance book with a faint click of its metal clasp. "That's where the dispute lies."
"They're obviously trying to frame me! It's a scam!" Akito Miyake's furious shout exploded across the classroom, spittle flying as he raised his voice. He dropped into his seat, which groaned under his weight, then slammed his back against the backrest with a dull thud. A vein throbbed at his temple. His clenched fists pressed against the desk, his knuckles bone-white, and sweat seeped between his fingers, soaking the cuffs of his uniform. Sunlight shone on his flushed face, making the veins bulging along his neck plainly visible, as if they were about to burst through his skin.
The whole class turned to look at him, their expressions a mixture of shock and curiosity. Whispers surged through the room like a rising tide, then quickly receded beneath Chabashira Sae's icy gaze.
Chabashira Sae's gaze swept over the silent classroom. Her fingertips tapped rhythmically against the edge of the lectern, as if providing the soundtrack to the turmoil about to unfold. "Class C has filed an appeal," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut clearly through the heavy silence. "They claim that Akito Miyake from our class beat three Class C students without provocation, seriously injuring them."
A faint stir rippled through the classroom. The students instinctively looked toward Akito Miyake in the back row, their eyes full of curiosity and confusion.
"However, Miyake now denies that this happened," Chabashira Sae continued, turning her scrutinizing gaze on him. "As he says, he didn't beat the Class C students; he was acting in self-defense. In other words, the Class C students attacked Miyake first." She paused, then changed tack. "However, according to the school infirmary's examination, the three students who filed the appeal do have numerous bruises and injuries."
"That's an outright lie!!!" Akito Miyake shot to his feet, both hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white with tension. His face flushed red, veins bulging on his forehead. His furious shout echoed through the classroom, making everyone's ears ring. His chest heaved like an enraged lion's, his eyes filled with frustration and anger as he stared fixedly at Chabashira Sae, as though pouring out all his resentment.
Chabashira Sae merely glanced at him, her tone calm and even. "But you have no evidence, do you?"
Her words were like a bucket of cold water dumped over Akito Miyake's head, leaving him momentarily stunned. He opened his mouth to argue, but found himself at a loss for words. He sat back down in frustration, muttering, "What evidence? How could I possibly have something like that?" His voice was full of hurt and anger.
"In other words, the truth remains unclear at this stage, so a decision has been put on hold for now." Chabashira Sae looked around the class as she spoke. "Depending on who was in the wrong, the treatment and the measures taken will differ considerably." Her gaze was sharp, as if she could see into everyone's thoughts.
Then she sighed softly, a trace of helplessness in her voice. "Unfortunately, no one in our class witnessed what happened. The school is trying to find witnesses, and all the homeroom teachers should now be giving detailed explanations."
The classroom fell silent again, complex expressions on the students' faces. They all understood that this matter concerned not only Akito Miyake, but also the whole class's points and future.
"Anyway, that's all I have to say." Chabashira Sae clapped her hands, breaking the silence. "The final decision should be announced next Tuesday, depending on whether there are any witnesses or evidence. That concludes homeroom."
With that, she turned and wrote the day's lesson topic on the blackboard, then began class as usual. Chalk scraped against the board with a soft hiss, as if masking the faint tension in the room.
During class, the students were unusually quiet. No one whispered or fidgeted. Everyone sat upright, eyes fixed on the blackboard, as if held in place by an invisible force. After what had happened before, they were all worried that their meager Class Points would be wiped out again, which would affect their quality of life at this school.
With Ken Sudō and Haruki Yamauchi, the two troublemakers, gone, the class atmosphere had clearly improved, with far less noise and chaos. Yet there was something oppressive about the silence.
Kanji Ike sat in a corner of the classroom, looking especially forlorn. He kept his head down, unconsciously tracing the page of his textbook with a finger, his eyes vacant. Ken Sudō and Haruki Yamauchi had been the two friends in the class he was closest to, but they had been expelled, and he still couldn't accept it. Out of habit, he kept wanting to strike up a conversation with the person beside him, to share his thoughts or complain about how dull the lesson was. But whenever the words reached his lips, he realized the seat beside him was empty, and no one would respond to him warmly the way they used to. He opened his mouth, then swallowed the words. Only a barely audible sigh remained, fading into the quiet classroom.
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