The Opening

Five days before the cross-class group task deadline, Ryuen Kakeru did something that took everyone by surprise.

At a Class C meeting, he volunteered to help coordinate the cross-class groups. He didn't offer to serve as an ordinary group member. Instead, he asked to review the interim reports submitted by each group, under the title of "inter-class communications representative." His reason sounded perfectly respectable: "To promote information sharing between classes and avoid duplicating work." The homeroom teacher approved.

When the news reached Class D, Horikita Suzune stopped Kanzaki Toru in the hallway.

"He's going through the reports." Her voice was low, but each word sounded clenched between her teeth. "On the surface, he's checking for duplication. In reality, he's collecting dirt on everyone. Is there anything in your report you wouldn't want him to see?"

"I made two versions of the section on the Old System. The one submitted to the public database is abridged. The sensitive material is in a separate encrypted file that only our group can access."

"Good." Horikita's tense shoulders relaxed slightly, but her brow remained furrowed. "There's something else. While going through the reports, Ryuen paid special attention to Ishizaki's group. He read Ishizaki's interim report three times from beginning to end. When he was done, he didn't say a word. He just told Ishizaki to wait for him at the Old School Building after class. You know what that means."

Kanzaki Toru certainly did.

Ishizaki's interim report contained traces of the Sudo Incident. It didn't name anyone, but anyone who knew the details could read between the lines and see that it alluded to "a misunderstanding in inter-class communications." Ishizaki was gravitating toward them, and Ryuen had caught the scent of blood.

"What are you going to do?" Horikita asked.

"Let him take a sniff."

Horikita narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't press him. She no longer needed to repeatedly question his seemingly offhand answers. She simply nodded, then turned away, her ponytail swinging with the same brisk arc as always.

During lunch, Kanzaki Toru used his terminal on the Old School Building's rooftop to send Ishizaki a message. It was simple: "Ryuen will come looking for you after class today. He read your interim report. If you don't know how to answer him, tell him to come to me. Tell him I have something he wants." Ishizaki didn't reply. But Kanzaki Toru knew he would do as he was told, because he had no other choice.

That afternoon, he went to the Library to look up reference materials for the final group task. The main body of the report was already complete. Shiina Hiyori had compiled the Old System archives, citing the exact page numbers. Sakura Airi's photo layout made the report look like a professionally published academic journal, and Yukimura Teruhiko's logical framework was so rigorous that even Horikita had nodded in approval. Only the final section remained: suggestions for improving the cross-class group system in the future. That part required feedback records from previous years' students.

In the deepest part of the social sciences section, he found the book titled Student Council Work Minutes Compilation. As he opened the index, one name unexpectedly caught his eye: Ryuen Kakeru, Class 1-C. He appeared on the Student Council Disciplinary Committee's list of assistants from the previous term, with the title "Temporary Investigation Assistant." There was just one short note in the remarks column: "Assisted the Disciplinary Committee in handling three inter-class disputes; outstanding performance."

Three inter-class disputes. Last term. Ryuen had already infiltrated the Student Council's investigative system through the Disciplinary Committee. He hadn't started this term. He hadn't gotten in through some second-year student acting as a go-between. Less than three months after enrolling, he had already put himself in a position where he could access every student's file. Those so-called "inter-class disputes" were probably things he'd created himself. He created problems, then solved them, packaging himself as an impartial third party and earning more authority and trust from the Disciplinary Committee. He was stamping his own private goods with the Student Council's official seal.

He took a photo of the page and sent it to Horikita.

Her reply contained only two words: "That explains it."

It explained how he'd gotten Class D's individual evaluation data, how he'd pinpointed Sudo's weak spot, and how he'd tampered with the official seal on the midterm report. He hadn't bribed someone on the Disciplinary Committee. He was the Disciplinary Committee.

Kanzaki Toru closed the book and leaned against the shelf, shutting his eyes. Ryuen's cards were being turned over one by one. Disciplinary Committee assistant, Old System research, point transfers, interim report reviews—every move was precise and efficient. But the more precise something was, the easier it was to predict. Ryuen's main weapon wasn't violence, but an information gap. He knew things others didn't, which allowed him to manipulate them into doing what he wanted. Once the information gap was erased, his ability to control others would diminish. And now, Kanzaki Toru held what could close that gap: Old System archives, Disciplinary Committee appointment records, Ishizaki's unpaid debt, and the full chain of events behind the Sudo Incident.

Ryuen's grip was tightening. So tight that even his own pieces were starting to slip through his fingers.

After class, Kanzaki Toru stopped Ishizaki outside the Old School Building.

Ishizaki had clearly just finished talking with Ryuen. His face looked awful, sweat beaded on his forehead, and a button had been tugged loose at his collar. When he saw Kanzaki Toru, he instinctively took a step back.

"What did he ask you?"

"...He told me to delete the word 'misunderstanding' from my interim report. He said if I didn't, he'd report to the Disciplinary Committee that I'd committed perjury for him last term." Ishizaki's eyes wandered under the streetlights, and his voice was hoarse. "I did commit perjury for him. I helped him accuse a Class D student of stealing. He said the guy was a thief, but I found out later that wasn't true at all. He had a grudge against the guy, so he used the Disciplinary Committee to force him out. Ryuen's name was on the page in the withdrawal file that said he'd assisted with the investigation."

Kanzaki Toru's expression darkened. Ryuen had committed perjury himself. He hadn't coerced someone else or used someone as a weapon. He'd sat behind the Disciplinary Committee's table and signed his own name on another student's withdrawal record, writing, "The facts are clear, and the evidence is conclusive." This was no longer just gray-area maneuvering at the edge of the rules. It was a crime.

"Ryuen doesn't have any conclusive evidence. He's just threatening you. Your perjury is the biggest thing he can hold over you, so he won't use it lightly. If he reports it, he'll go down too. So don't worry—he won't actually tell them. He just wants you to be afraid." He looked Ishizaki in the eye. "You don't have to trust Class D right away. But the Old System report we submit will lay out every step Ryuen took to manipulate people through information gaps. You can be one of the pieces of evidence, anonymously. Once that report is formally evaluated by the Student Council, the clock will start ticking on his threat to expose you for perjury."

Ishizaki gritted his teeth and stared down at his untied shoelace. After a long while, he spoke in an extremely quiet voice. "He said... if I had anything more to do with people from Class D, he'd make me die with him."

Kanzaki Toru looked at him. Ishizaki, who had been tied to Ryuen's boat for so long, was trembling as he said it. His eyes were slightly red, but his voice was strangely steady. When someone was pushed to the limit, they sometimes stopped breaking down in any obvious way. He was on the verge of being torn apart. Ishizaki wasn't like Sudo. Sudo needed a guardrail to block his way; Ishizaki needed a tool to pry open his shackles.

"You won't die with him. He's put you on his list, but you're still in our binder."

Ishizaki didn't answer. He simply crouched down slowly and tied his shoelace. His fingers were rough, calloused from playing basketball. He tied the lace very slowly, as if using his fingers to reassure himself that he could still control some part of his body.

Kanzaki Toru didn't hurry him. He just stood there, waiting for Ishizaki to get up on his own.

"...You said before that Class D could get me a starting spot." Ishizaki's voice was hoarse as he stood. "Does that offer still stand?"

"No. The coach decides who starts, not me. But if you help us complete the chain of evidence proving Ryuen committed perjury, the coach will see your attitude toward basketball—not helping someone beat people up, but playing the game."

Ishizaki stared at him. His lips moved as if he wanted to laugh, but thought the whole thing was absurd. In the end, he simply zipped his loosened uniform jacket back up.

"...Fine."

With that, he turned and headed toward the Class C dorms. Under the streetlights, his silhouette looked thinner than usual. The flashy, slippery shell he'd always worn, clinging to those in power, seemed to have been left behind at the Old School Building where Ryuen was. All that remained was an ordinary Basketball Club student, walking slowly away along an empty fork in the road at night.

Kanzaki Toru watched him disappear at the end of the street, then was about to turn around when he suddenly looked up. Ryuen Kakeru was standing at the edge of the Old School Building's rooftop. Like last time, he stood there in silence. Kanzaki Toru didn't know when he'd come up or how long he'd been watching. Their gazes met again across the dark railing. Ryuen didn't smile or make any gesture, but his eyes still glinted coldly in the darkness.

Then Ryuen slowly raised one hand and tapped the railing three times with his fingers. It wasn't a threat or a warning. It was more like a hunter checking that its prey was still alive. After the three taps, he turned and disappeared behind the rooftop door.

After returning to the dorm, Kanzaki Toru received a compressed file from Horikita Suzune. Its title was "Ryuen Kakeru—Disciplinary Committee Investigation Records—Top Secret." It came with a note: "Your theory was right. Of the three inter-class disputes he assisted with last term, two involved people who couldn't be contacted after withdrawing. The Disciplinary Committee's official investigation records show the testimonies in both cases were remarkably similar—they both pointed to the same person. Sakagami also got back to me. He said those students had all tried to bypass Ryuen and establish their own influence within the class, but withdrew under psychological pressure within a few weeks. The cases are identical to the ones in the old archives."

At the end of the file was another line, a personal note from Horikita: "Someone working for Ryuen intercepted me when I went to retrieve these records today. I had to get through four layers of access restrictions before I could get away. Next time we're dealing with intelligence this high-risk, you should let me add another layer of protection first."

Kanzaki Toru saved the file in an encrypted partition and shut down his terminal. The Old System archives, Ryuen's Disciplinary Committee records, and Ishizaki's testimony—the three threads were converging. And the report he'd prepared for Ryuen would be delivered to both the Student Council and the homeroom teacher on the day the cross-class group task was due. It wasn't an academic report. It was a complete indictment, backed by a chain of evidence.

Rain began to fall outside the window again. The fine raindrops tapped against the glass, blurring the streetlights outside the dormitory into a wavering halo. There seemed to be a figure inside it. He stood, opened the glass door, and leaned out to glance at the area below. The empty outdoor chairs glistened with rain, but no one was there.

Ryuen had tapped the railing three times. What was that supposed to mean—a countdown? Or was he inviting Kanzaki Toru to play an even bigger game?