The Rift

Since that day, Sudo had not sought out Ishizaki again. The muffled thuds of him lifting weights could still be heard in the gym, and his boisterous voice could still be heard in the back of the classroom playing games, but the seat beside him was no longer occupied by Ishizaki. The net Ryuen had cast over him had been torn, but the net remained. Ishizaki remained.

Kanzaki Toru knew that to completely dismantle Ryuen's infiltration of Class D, Sudo holding back a punch was not enough. He needed to tear Ryuen's camp apart from the inside. And Ishizaki was the crack that could be pried open.

He was waiting for an opportunity. The opportunity arrived sooner than he had expected.

Three days before the cross-class group assignment was due, Kanzaki was organizing report data on the roof of the old school building when he unexpectedly heard an argument coming from below. It wasn't Sudo's voice; it was Ishizaki and that sandy-haired Kondo.

He closed his folder and walked silently to the edge of the roof to look down. The two stood in the shadows of the old school building's back door, Kondo leaning against the wall with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Ishizaki faced him, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders pulled tight.

"You're saying we're just letting the Sudo thing go?" Kondo's tone was laced with obvious contempt. "Ryuen says let it go, so we let it go? Ishizaki, you know better than anyone that you were the one who led this. Sudo didn't take the bait, and Ryuen lost face over in Class C. Do you really think he's just going to let this slide?"

"Then what else can I do? You want me to go trick Sudo again? Do you think he'd still believe me after what happened?" Ishizaki's voice was low, but every word carried a sense of suppressed rage. "Ryuen promised—once Sudo was expelled, the starting spot on the basketball team would be mine. And now? The job didn't get done, the starting spot isn't even mentioned anymore, and he wants me to go after Sudo again. I may be shameless, Ishizaki, but I'm not a dog."

Kondo took the unlit cigarette from his mouth and said in a vague tone, "Isn't it a bit late to be saying all this now? Don't you know what kind of temper Ryuen has? Once you've boarded his ship, don't think you can just get off easily. Unless—"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you have a way to prove you still have some other utility to Class D." Kondo tucked the cigarette behind his ear and patted Ishizaki on the shoulder. "Think about it."

He walked away after saying that, leaving Ishizaki alone in the shadows. Ishizaki kept his head down, his right fist clenching and unclenching. Then, he cursed and kicked a pebble on the ground with force.

Kanzaki withdrew his gaze and leaned against the railing. The rift between Ishizaki and Ryuen was larger than he had anticipated. It wasn't that Ishizaki didn't want to keep running with Ryuen; it was that Ryuen had started withholding the promised rewards. What Ishizaki wanted wasn't some profound scheme or an ethereal desire for control, but something very concrete and immediately redeemable. A starting spot on the team, a label that would allow him to turn his life around. Ryuen had given him a bounced check, and now that the check couldn't be cashed and he was being left stranded halfway, Ishizaki felt like he was hanging in mid-air. This feeling could be used as a breakthrough.

Immediately after, his terminal received a message from Horikita Suzune, brief and clear: "Ishizaki's evaluation report has been retrieved. Attachment sent." The attachment contained a short note: During his third year of junior high, Ishizaki Daichi had once charged into the head coach's office in a fit of rage over an unsatisfactory selection result, leading to a temporary suspension. He only regained his eligibility after a senior vouched for him, but he never reclaimed his starting spot. That position had been taken by another student with better connections.

Third year of junior high—he had lost control enough to charge into a coach's office over a single starting spot. Ishizaki wasn't acting on a momentary impulse; he had a visceral, physiological fear of "having what he deserved taken away." The carrot Ryuen dangled was the starting spot; the act of taking it back was a repetition of that junior high incident. He was repeating his fear, and he was repeating his rage.

Kanzaki put away his terminal and walked down from the roof. The path to approaching Ishizaki wasn't mature yet; Ishizaki didn't trust anyone right now, and approaching him directly would only make him suspicious. He needed to get Ishizaki into a quiet, neutral environment without his classmates before he could send out a signal. This couldn't be done by him alone; he needed someone else—someone who could put Ishizaki at ease. Not someone hot-headed, not aggressive, someone inconspicuous who could still talk to Ishizaki on the court. He made up his mind and quickened his pace toward the basketball court.

At dusk, only a few students remained on the basketball court practicing shots, one of whom was Hamaguchi Tetsuya from Class B—the friendly guy from the cross-class group. Sweat trickled down his temple, and his school uniform sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned forearms.

"Yo, Kanzaki!" Hamaguchi tucked the ball under his arm and walked over. "Here to discuss the group report?"

"The report is already taken care of." Kanzaki took the basketball he tossed and dribbled it on the ground. "I need a favor."

"Name it."

"You know Ishizaki from the basketball team, right?"

Hamaguchi's smile faded for a moment. "I do. Why?"

"How's his training state these days?"

"Not great." Hamaguchi wiped the sweat from his temple with the back of his hand. "After Ryuen told him about the starting spot, he was training like a madman, but he's clearly been slacking off these past few days. The coach even chewed him out today. Why are you asking about him?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted to ask you to coordinate with him a bit more during the next practice. He's been carrying too much on his own lately, and he's prone to getting stuck in a rut."

Hamaguchi looked at him, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something but held back. Then, he nodded readily. "Sure. It's just coordination; it's what teammates are supposed to do anyway. But Kanzaki, you're more of a busybody than I thought."

"It's just a matter of convenience." Kanzaki tossed the basketball back to Hamaguchi and turned to leave.

After returning to the dormitory, he ran into Karuizawa Kei in the hallway. She was leaning against a vending machine, turning a can of red bean soup in her hand—quieter than before, not in a rush to pull the tab. Seeing him, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

"I heard you've been getting close to Shiina lately? That librarian from Class C." She arched an eyebrow, her tone carrying a faint, indiscernible nuance.

"She helped me look up some information."

"Oh? What kind of information?"

"Archives from the old school building. For the cross-class group."

Karuizawa glanced at him, then let out a soft hum. "Fine. But Kanzaki, don't think I didn't notice." She stepped half a step closer and lowered her voice. "You've been working with Horikita to investigate Ryuen lately, haven't you?"

Kanzaki did not deny it. Karuizawa's information network among the girls in Class D was more sensitive than he had anticipated.

"After that business with Sakura, I knew—the people actually doing things in this class aren't the ones making the most noise. You and Horikita are, but Horikita won't lower herself to ask for help. You will." She raised her eyes. "So if you need anything, you can tell me directly. I don't need any proof; I've already learned how to buy my own red bean soup."

Before he could answer, she pressed something into his chest—a candy, strawberry-flavored. Then she walked away without looking back, her blonde hair whipping a sharp arc in the sunset.

He peeled the wrapper off and put it in his mouth. As the sweetness melted on his tongue, a faint sound of turning pages echoed from deep within the illustrated guide. Karuizawa Kei's page reappeared in his consciousness—her title had shifted from the initial "Proud Guide" to "Quietly Transforming Ally," and her favorability had surged from 35 to 52. Unlock Reward: "Perception Resonance." Description: When the target is engaged in a social game highly relevant to you, you can perceive the target's core implicit needs at that moment.

Kanzaki stopped in his tracks, letting the new perception settle into his consciousness. Unlike the upgrade to his camouflage skills which felt instinctive, or the enhancement of his observation which was a boost to sensory precision, Perception Resonance added a new dimension at a conceptual level—when Karuizawa identified allies and enemies in a crowd, he could see through her senses to perceive the softest bullseye in the other person.

And that string of seemingly casual probing and frankness from Karuizawa just now—"the people actually doing things aren't the ones making the most noise," "I won't be at anyone's beck and call anymore," "I've learned to buy my own red bean soup"—each turn was also a test of her own new positioning. She was no longer content to be a queen bee; she wanted to be an actual force on the battlefield. This reward had come at just the right time.

He recalled the sensation when Perception Resonance was activated. When Karuizawa pressed the candy to his chest, an image had flashed clearly in his mind: not her smiling face, but the way her lips were tightly pursed beneath her blonde hair when she walked back to the dorm alone. He hadn't understood the specific meaning of that pursed expression then, but now he did—she hadn't been thinking of him, but of Sakura. Karuizawa's can of red bean soup that never reached its recipient overlapped with his own target list. She was more serious about figuring out every tiny thought of Sakura's than anyone realized. Serious enough to take a detour past the bench Sakura frequented, quietly leave a can of red bean soup, and leave immediately; the moment she set the soup down, she was thinking of two entirely different ways to care for the same person.

He folded the candy wrapper and put it in his pocket, heading toward the boys' dormitory. Perception Resonance was currently only applicable to Karuizawa, but its potential value was immense. Karuizawa was the most critical sensor for the social currents among the girls in Class D. Being able to perceive implicit needs through her was equivalent to burying a copper wire for counter-surveillance inside Kushida Kikyo's gentle web. And right now, the rhythm of the guide's rewards was accelerating—this meant the trust progress between him and several goddesses was being quietly compressed by the main storyline, and the new stage was hidden behind the date signed on the last page of the old institutional archives.

He opened his terminal and sent a message to Horikita: "Found the breakthrough for Ishizaki. See you on the roof during lunch break tomorrow. By the way, other than that comment about idealism, did Sakagami-sensei ever mention the specific trigger that forced the old cooperation model to end?"

Horikita didn't reply immediately. But she would care. Because that was exactly the part Sakagami-sensei had been evasive about during that conversation.