Sudō's Limit

The cross-class group assignment entered its final week. That heavy report on the Old System now lay safely in Shiina Hiyori's drawer. Meanwhile, Ken Sudō still wore a ticking time bomb, walking second by second toward the breaking point under the countdown Ryuen Kakeru had set.

Kanzaki Toru noticed that Sudō's posture had changed.

He used to sprawl in his chair in the classroom, legs stretched out, back pressed against the backrest, as if to say, "I don't give a damn about anything." These past few days, he sat bolt upright, fists clenched on his knees, shoulders taut, the muscles at the sides of his neck straining against his uniform collar. He was desperately suppressing his emotions, but every second took another cut at his already limited patience. The countdown Ryuen had given him for "quiet reflection" had run out, and the ticking of that time bomb grew louder in the silence.

After classes, Sudō stayed alone in the empty classroom. When the last student had left, he finally slammed his fist into a desk. The tabletop rang out with a shrill crash, and stationery scattered across the floor. He didn't pick it up, just panted heavily, like a beast trapped in a cage.

One punch against a desk wasn't enough to dispel his pent-up anger. That evening, Kanzaki Toru received a brief message from Horikita: "Sudō went to the Class C dormitory area."

At the same time, a motorcycle engine roared below the dormitory. In this completely enclosed school, the sound of any motor vehicle was an emergency signal. Several boys Ryuen had stationed in the Class C dormitory area stood by a window at the end of the corridor. One of them spun a phone in his hand, apparently waiting for an order.

By the time Kanzaki Toru reached the vacant lot behind the Class C dormitory area, six boys had already surrounded Sudō. The streetlights were dim, and the mercury lamps at both ends of the lot were broken. Under the meager illumination, the group's shadows swayed like ghosts.

Ishizaki stood in the back row of the circle, arms folded, just as he had at the Old School Building last time. But he wasn't the one taunting Sudō tonight. That was a boy from Class C standing in the middle of the group, about the same build as Sudō, with white bandages wrapped around his knuckles. His tone was casual. "Sudō, weren't you pretty tough when you beat up Ishizaki last time? Well, Ishizaki's right here. Why don't you try laying a hand on him now?"

Sudō didn't move. He stood there, chest heaving, knuckles white from clenching his fists. The explosive muscles Kanzaki Toru had observed in the gym bulged across his arms. He could throw a devastating punch at any moment—but he didn't.

"What, lost your nerve?" The bandaged boy tilted his head and stepped forward. "Ken Sudō from Class D, weren't you supposed to be such a big shot? You're just a coward now?"

Sudō's arm twitched. He clenched his fist hard—but his feet stayed put. Grinding his teeth, he stared the other boy in the eye and said, one word at a time, "I'm not fighting."

"...Huh?"

"I said, I'm not fighting." Sudō lowered his voice until it was little more than a rasp, as if he were forcing every word out from deep in his throat. "You want me to throw the first punch so I'll get expelled. I know."

The air fell silent for a beat.

Then the bandaged boy burst out laughing and looked back at Ishizaki. Ishizaki didn't laugh. He just narrowed his eyes at Sudō, looking a little surprised. The others surrounding Sudō exchanged glances, apparently not expecting this turn of events. Everyone knew Ken Sudō was a powder keg that could go off at the slightest provocation, and he'd been the first to throw a punch in almost every conflict since the start of the school year. But tonight, with six people surrounding him and pushing his buttons, his clenched fists never rose.

"Boring." The bandaged boy shrugged and jerked his head toward Ishizaki. "Ishizaki, you gave me the wrong impression. This guy's a coward, isn't he?"

Sudō didn't argue. His body was still shaking, his breathing rough, his fists still clenched tight. But he stood his ground, not taking a single step forward. He knew that the moment he moved, even if all he did was shove the other guy's shoulder, he'd be guilty of assault. Then Ryuen would put his expulsion notice on the Class Points deduction bulletin board like a farmer bringing in a harvest.

Just then, a lazy voice came from the shadows—

"Had enough?"

Everyone turned toward the corner of the dormitory building at once. Ryuen Kakeru emerged from the shadows, wearing his uniform jacket thrown on carelessly, hands in his pockets, his gait as leisurely as if he were out for a stroll. He walked up to Sudō and stopped about an arm's length away, tilting his head slightly as he gave him an amused, almost-smiling look.

"You didn't hit him. Not bad. Horikita's done a good job looking after you."

Sudō's face flushed bright red, and the veins at his temples throbbed.

But Ryuen didn't say anything more to him. He turned and waved at the bandaged boy and Ishizaki. "Break it up. Isn't it embarrassing to corner someone here?"

The boys exchanged glances, but Ryuen had spoken, and none of them dared disobey. They opened the circle and disappeared one by one into the shadows of the dormitory building. Ishizaki was last to leave. He glanced back at Sudō. There was no smug mockery in his eyes, only a hint of something complicated—like he was quietly weighing his options, or had already begun to realize that he, too, was caught in some shadow on Ryuen's chessboard.

Ryuen was about to leave as well. But as he turned, his gaze happened to sweep past the edge of the parking lot and meet Kanzaki Toru's eyes, watching from the dark. Ryuen paused, the corner of his mouth twitching, then continued toward the dormitory. He said nothing.

The lot emptied in no time, leaving Sudō standing alone. At last, he unclenched his fists and let his arms hang at his sides. His palms were marked with deep red grooves from his fingernails.

Kanzaki Toru stepped out of the shadows. When Sudō saw him, he said nothing, just stood there rigidly.

"...I didn't hit him," Sudō said.

"I know."

"He called me a coward. Said Class D had a guard dog named Ken Sudō."

"Did you believe him?"

Sudō was silent for a few seconds. "...Almost. But he reminded me of something. The other day, Chabashira-sensei called me over in the hallway. I thought she was going to lecture me again. But she only looked at me and said, 'You already have scars on your face from fighting outside school. You shouldn't get any new ones here.'"

Sudō raised the back of his hand and rubbed the old scar along the bridge of his nose. "Then she left. It was like she'd guessed I wouldn't be able to hold back tonight."

Kanzaki Toru didn't answer. He simply stood still, letting Sudō slowly breathe out the emotions he'd been holding in for days. The distant streetlights cast a dim glow over Sudō's sharply defined face, illuminating it only halfway. This face, the one they'd singled out and deliberately targeted, now bore the marks of struggle, not surrender.

"I want to ask you something," Sudō said suddenly. "Did you figure it out a long time ago?"

"Figure what out?"

"That these guys don't just want to beat me up. They want to bring Class D down."

Kanzaki Toru met his eyes. "You don't believe what Horikita says. You won't listen to anyone trying to reason with you. You only trust the process of taking a punch and throwing one back." He paused. "But tonight, you didn't throw one back. You held yourself back not because you were a coward, but because you finally saw who your real opponent was."

Sudō lowered his head and looked at his open palms. They were slick with sweat and marked by the red grooves of his fingernails. The traces of anger burning beneath his skin were still there, but tonight those hands hadn't been raised against anyone.

"Damn," he said hoarsely. "It's the first time I've felt that holding back hurts more than fighting."

"...Thanks," Sudō finally said. "Not for coming here tonight. I mean, thanks for never telling me to 'calm down' in the first place."

Kanzaki Toru nodded without pursuing the subject. He simply stepped to Sudō's side, like he had when spotting him at the gym. "Come on. I'll go with you to the vending machine to get a sports drink. You can get the stationery you dropped tomorrow morning—just get to class early."

Sudō was caught off guard by his offhand tone. Then he slung his uniform jacket over his shoulder and followed. His tense back relaxed a little beneath the streetlights.

Kanzaki Toru turned his attention to the Illustrated Guide. Two new notes appeared on Horikita Suzune's page: "Initial success in effectively controlling a specific student." Affection: 55. Between that note and the violence that had been stopped tonight lay Horikita's unseen plans, one after another, and her stiff, infuriating warnings that had ultimately worked. Beside Horikita's name, another line of text flickered faintly: "Key Class C clue: Ishizaki Daichi. His stance has shifted slightly."

He put away the Illustrated Guide and followed Sudō. The vending machine hummed at the dormitory entrance, its fluorescent light illuminating a small patch of ground. Sudō crouched in front of it, wavering between a sports drink and soda. In the end, he pressed the buttons for both and tossed one can to Kanzaki Toru. He caught the flying can of chilled soda. Its surface was cold, and droplets of condensation trickled between his fingers. This wasn't over yet—the crack in Ishizaki's loyalty was only a fissure, and a crack that tested someone's resolve could become his own as well. For the first time, the most solid piece of iron in Ryuen's hand had developed a gap that could be pried open.