Manabe Shiho

As the inter-class group project entered its second week, the atmosphere in Class D began to turn subtle.

It wasn't the kind of obvious tension—on the surface, Sudo was still messing around with Ike Kanji in the back of the classroom every day, Karuizawa Kei was still surrounded by her usual group of girls, and Kushida Kikyo was still smiling at everyone. But Kanzaki Toru noticed some extremely minute changes. Sakura Airi was going to the restroom more often than usual, and every time she returned, she walked faster with her head down, her hat pulled even lower. She hadn't said anything to him, but her bento had remained largely untouched for two days in a row.

During the break, he intentionally took a detour past the floor where the Class C classrooms were located. The late spring sun illuminated the corridor brightly, and several Class C girls were leaning against the windowsill chatting. One of them, wearing a high ponytail and bright-colored earrings, was speaking quite loudly, "How did someone like that even get assigned to an inter-class group? It's such bad luck to be in a group with her; she can't do anything, and she can't even speak clearly."

The girls around her laughed along. Kanzaki Toru didn't stop, simply walking past them with an expressionless face. Out of the corner of his eye, he memorized the girl's face—high ponytail, bright earrings, a habit of twirling her hair ends with her fingers while talking, and a uniform skirt shorter than the others. Her voice became distorted as it reflected off the corridor glass, but in the playback of his mind, it grew increasingly clear.

He knew there was someone named Manabe Shiho in Sakura's group, but he needed to confirm that this was the person who had just been speaking.

After school, he found Shiina Hiyori at the library's return desk.

She was shelving a stack of returned books by their call numbers, her long, light chestnut hair sliding off her shoulder as she bent over. Seeing him approach, she merely lifted her eyes, her fingers continuing to place labels on the book spines.

"Do you know Manabe Shiho?" he asked.

Shiina's hand paused for a beat before she pushed the last book into the shelf. "She's from Class C. Not part of Ryuen's faction, but she has a sharp tongue." She turned around, looking at Kanzaki Toru with those quiet, light-brown eyes. "Is she in Sakura's group?"

"I believe so."

"Then you should be careful. She isn't the type to resort to physical violence, but she is very skilled at using words to create pressure."

"What kind of words?"

"Finding what the other person cares about most, then repeatedly stabbing at it. Not once or twice, but constantly, over and over—until the person breaks." Shiina's tone held no exaggeration, as if she were stating a fact that had already occurred. "Last semester, she forced a girl to quit her club. She used a similar method."

Kanzaki Toru was silent for a moment. The sunlight in the corridor was sliced into long, thin stripes by the blinds, falling across Shiina's profile, flickering between light and shadow.

"Do you have a way to get the internal communication logs for Sakura's inter-class group?"

"Group communication uses the school's unified group terminal logs; the library doesn't have the authority to access them directly." After saying this, Shiina took a mint from her pocket and placed it on the shelf next to him. "But if you just want to understand what Sakura has been encountering in her group lately, there is a more direct way."

"What?"

"Ask her yourself."

Kanzaki Toru picked up the mint, the wrapper reflecting faintly against his fingertips. "You're telling me how to do my job."

"I'm reminding you." Shiina sat back at the sorting desk and pulled over the next stack of books, her tone returning to its usual steady composure. "You are very attentive to others, but sometimes you forget the simplest method. Sakura is not a fragile person; you don't need to shield her from everything. You just need to listen carefully when she is willing to speak."

He stood where he was, unwrapped the mint, and put it in his mouth. The cool flavor melted on the tip of his tongue, carrying a subtle sweetness. Shiina didn't speak again, focusing on organizing the books as if that reminder had been merely a casual gesture. However, she still gently pushed a blank library card toward him, on the back of which a line of tiny, pencil-written text read: Yamauchi is her follower; the only club member who quit due to illness last year in Class C was Kobayashi.

After leaving the library, he found Sakura on the playground.

She was sitting on a bench by the field, her camera resting on her lap. The afternoon sun was intense, and the light entering her purple pupils was partially filtered by her lenses. She wasn't taking photos; she was just resting her hands gently on the lens. She looked up at him once without speaking, but she didn't lower her head to avoid him as she had before.

He sat down on the other end of the bench. "The spring roll was finished. If you make them again, you can add a bit more shrimp."

Sakura was silent for a while. "...Okay." Her voice was very soft, but she was still answering. Then she put her camera into her bag and stood up. "See you tomorrow, Kanzaki-kun."

"See you tomorrow."

He watched her walk toward the dormitory. Her pace wasn't fast, and her hat was still pulled low, but as she passed the corner of the playground, she paused and looked back toward him. Across a distance of several dozen meters, he couldn't see her expression clearly. Then, she continued walking forward.

Kanzaki Toru didn't follow. Shiina was right; he couldn't shield her from everything. But that look back told him one thing—she knew he was investigating. She was waiting for the moment she was ready to speak.

The next day at lunch, Class D classroom.

Sakura Airi sat alone in the corner, a notebook spread out before her, her pencil slowly drawing lines on the paper—she wasn't taking notes; she was sketching. Kanzaki Toru glanced over; she was drawing the withered branches of the cherry tree by the playground. The strokes were more forceful than before, and the shadows were repeatedly deepened with cross-hatching, as if she were pressing some kind of emotion into the graphite dust. He didn't disturb her.

After school, in the back of the classroom.

Kanzaki Toru found Sakura in tears. She was slumped over her desk, her shoulders trembling slightly, but she made no sound. Her hat was set aside, and her red-rimmed glasses were pushed up onto her forehead. Standing next to her seat was a girl—not Manabe from Class C, but one from Class D. One of Karuizawa Kei's followers, she seemed to be named Mori. She was the same one who had been sent by Karuizawa to greet Sakura a few times before.

Mori held a tissue in her hand, leaning over slightly, her tone as soft as possible: "Um... Sakura-san, would you like to go to the infirmary first? Or should I help you call Kushida-san?"

Sakura shook her head gently, her fingers clutching her uniform skirt, unable to speak. Her lips moved, but no sound came out—it wasn't that she didn't want to speak, but that she couldn't. Kanzaki Toru stood at the back door of the classroom, observing Mori's expression. There was no trace of voyeuristic curiosity on her face; it was pure, panicked confusion about how to help.

Just as he was about to enter, footsteps sounded in the corridor. Karuizawa turned back from the direction of the vending machine, holding a red bean soup. Seeing the anomaly at the back door, she quickened her pace, taking in the state of Sakura in the classroom, Mori's position, and the fact that Kanzaki Toru was standing at the door without entering. It took her only two seconds to make a judgment.

"Mori, go fill Sakura-san's water bottle with warm water." She lowered her voice, pushed open the door to enter the classroom, walked to Sakura's seat, and placed the red bean soup on the corner of the desk. "This is hot. You don't have to drink it, just leave it there for now."

Then she looked up, her gaze passing over Sakura's hunched back to meet Kanzaki Toru's eyes at the door for a second.

That second of eye contact wasn't a condescending instruction, but an exchange of information—she had already brought the situation in the classroom under control; now he just needed to find out the cause from the outside. Kanzaki Toru nodded slightly and turned toward the stairwell.

He moved unhurriedly, intentionally passing the gathering spot of Manabe Shiho and her followers in the corridor leading to Class C. Yamauchi was standing right next to Manabe, the reflection of her earrings flashing before his eyes. The group seemed to have just returned from the shop, still continuing some topic, their laughter high and shrill.

"How can she even come to school when she can't even speak clearly—she's really dragging the whole group down," one of the girls giggled. "It's such bad luck to be in a group with her; she can't do anything."

Manabe Shiho twirled her hair ends and added, "Someone like that won't last long in this school. Just wait and see."

Kanzaki Toru didn't confront them. He simply turned quietly into the stairwell from the other end of the corridor, pressing those voices and the dazzling reflections deep into his mind. Then, in front of the vending machine on the next floor, he sent a brief, few-word text record to the encrypted communication list he shared with Horikita.

Sakura didn't hide her pain in her bento box this time. She finally broke down in the classroom—and her collapse happened to be discovered by one of her own first. This was the only part of the situation that was worth being thankful for.

The next step was simple: turn the vague description of "verbal bullying" into concrete evidence that could be submitted to the school administration. And before that, he needed Sakura to speak to him—a real, complete opening up.