Lunch Break

On the first Monday after swimming class, Class D returned to its usual routine.

The bandage on Yoshida's face had finally come off, revealing a faint scar. He seemed rather proud of it, telling everyone it was "a medal from fighting the second-years." Sudo egged him on, describing the three-on-one ambush behind the gym as the "amazing feat of Yoshida taking on three guys by himself." Whenever Yoshida heard Sudo bragging like that, he would instinctively glance toward Kanzaki Toru, then quickly look away.

Kanzaki pretended not to notice. He didn't need Yoshida's gratitude. He just needed Yoshida to remember that he owed him a favor.

Sakura Airi's changes were subtler than Yoshida's. She had started eating lunch in the classroom. She didn't go to the cafeteria or eat openly at her desk. Instead, after most people had left the classroom, she quietly took a homemade lunch box out of her bag and ate in small bites. The food changed every day—rice balls and tamagoyaki on Monday, fried chicken and broccoli on Tuesday, sandwiches and cherry tomatoes on Wednesday. The portions weren't large, but everything was arranged neatly.

When someone started taking the time to prepare their own lunch, it meant they had at least begun to treat this place as somewhere they had to live, rather than a cage they were always ready to escape.

On Tuesday at noon, Kanzaki stayed in the classroom a little later than usual. He'd gone to the Library to return a reference book, and when he came back, most of the students had already left. Only the familiar figure in the front corner remained.

"What's in your lunch today?" he asked casually as he gathered the notebooks on his desk.

Sakura's shoulders trembled slightly. Then, hesitating, she turned her lunch box toward him. Today's lunch was fried shrimp and rice balls. The rice balls were wrapped in a thin layer of seaweed, with neat, even cuts.

"That looks good."

"...Kanzaki, would you like to try one?" Her voice was very quiet. She kept her eyes on the edge of the lunch box, unable to look at him. Her fingers tightened slightly as she nudged the box forward.

Kanzaki glanced at her, then reached out and took a rice ball. "Thanks."

It tasted good. Not the standardized kind of good you got from a convenience store, but the kind made with care. He had eaten countless meals in the White Room, every one of them calculated precisely for its nutritional balance. Not one had ever tasted like this.

"It's delicious."

Sakura didn't say anything, but the corner of her mouth, visible beneath the brim of her hat, twitched.

After finishing the last bite, Kanzaki picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He noticed that Sakura wasn't wearing her hat today. It sat in the corner of her desk, pinned down by a notebook. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, and without the brim in the way, her whole face was visible. Her skin was fair, and her features looked a little more delicate than they did when she wore her hat. But her purple eyes still couldn't meet his; they stayed fixed on the half portion of fried shrimp left in her lunch box.

"Not wearing your hat?"

"...It's stuffy in the classroom," Sakura said softly. "And... you're the only one here."

She said it in an even tone, as if stating a fact. But Kanzaki could tell how much those words meant. "You're the only one here" meant that with him, she didn't have to hide herself.

"What are you doing this afternoon?"

"...I want to return a book to the Library." Sakura put her lunch box away, then hesitated. "What about you, Kanzaki?"

"I'm going to check out the gym."

"The gym?" Sakura raised her head, surprise flashing in her purple eyes. "Do you work out, Kanzaki?"

"Not really. Sudo's been spending every day there lately, so I want to see how much he can lift." Kanzaki slung his bag over his shoulder. "If you're free, you can come with me. The Library's right next to the gym."

Sakura hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.

When they left the classroom, the sunlight was bright in the corridor. A few students passed by, and Sakura instinctively moved half a step behind Kanzaki, but she didn't stop walking.

Kanzaki noticed her reaction out of the corner of his eye. Compared with the first day of school, when she had completely frozen on the bus, she could now keep moving when people passed by. Her progress was slow, but she was heading in the right direction. His skills at blending in and heightened powers of observation also let him control his presence in a crowd more precisely—he could avoid standing out and drawing unwanted attention, while still being noticeable enough for her to follow.

It was hard to say whether this coordination between them was something he'd initiated or if it had happened naturally. Either way, it worked well.

At the Library, Sakura went to return her book while Kanzaki waited by the entrance. He leaned against the wall, his gaze sweeping over the end of the corridor. Hirata Yosuke was coming from the other direction with a stack of reference materials in his hands. When he saw Kanzaki, he gave a slight nod. Kanzaki nodded back. They didn't speak, and Hirata went straight into the Library.

Kanzaki watched him disappear among the bookshelves. Hirata Yosuke got along well with the rest of the class; both boys and girls were happy to talk to him. But he never hogged the spotlight, raised his voice, or took the initiative to put himself at the center of any conflict. He had just enough presence for people to see him as a reliable companion, but not enough to make them see him as a threat. That kind of tact wasn't inborn. It had been learned.

At any rate, he and Hirata had no conflicting interests for now. Having more people with a sense of tact in Class D was good for the overall situation.

When Sakura came out of the Library, she had a new photography book in her hands. They continued on, and soon Sudo's voice rang out from the gym.

"One hundred kilos! See that? One hundred!"

Kanzaki pushed open the door, and an air thick with the smell of sweat and the clatter of metal equipment hit him. Sudo was standing in front of a bench press, wearing a T-shirt soaked with sweat. The muscles of his chest bulged beneath the damp fabric. Four large weight plates hung from the barbell, fifty kilos on each side, making a total of one hundred with the bar. Three boys from Class D stood nearby, including Yoshida. They watched Sudo with complicated expressions, looking both envious and unconvinced.

"You're here!" Sudo's eyes lit up when he saw Kanzaki. "I haven't properly thanked you for helping Yoshida the other day. How about giving it a try?"

"I'm not very good at this."

"That's all the more reason to learn!" Sudo was so enthusiastic it was hard to refuse. "Come on, try the bar first and learn the movement."

Kanzaki walked over to the bench press, lay down, and gripped the barbell. The empty bar weighed twenty kilos, which was nothing to him—the physical training in the White Room had been far more grueling. But he deliberately made his movements look awkward, making his first few attempts unsteady and even letting his wrists tremble a little.

"It's fine, it's fine. Take your time." Sudo stood by his head, one hand hovering beneath the barbell. "Keep your wrists straight, and control the descent so it stops at your chest. That's it—one more."

After doing more than a dozen reps, Kanzaki set the barbell down, sat up, and rolled his arms. "It really isn't easy."

"Your form's pretty good. A few more sessions and you can add weight." Sudo patted him on the shoulder, then suddenly lowered his voice. "Thanks for what you did the other day. That idiot Yoshida won't say it, but he remembers."

"It was nothing."

"If you ever need help with anything, just say the word." Sudo held out his hand.

Kanzaki shook it. Sudo's palm was rough and strong, covered in calluses.

He went back to Sakura Airi. She had spent the whole time standing by the wall near the entrance, keeping a safe distance from the exercise area, but her gaze had remained observant. She wasn't watching Sudo. She was watching the boys gathered around him.

"Notice anything?" Kanzaki asked once they were outside the gym.

"There's a tall boy with blond hair who keeps watching Sudo. It's not Yoshida. He doesn't look very friendly." Sakura paused. "Maybe I'm imagining things."

"No, you're not. That boy's name is Ishizaki. He's been hanging around Sudo for the past few days."

Sakura nodded without asking anything else. She shared what she observed, and he offered his judgment. They no longer needed to spell out this division of roles.

After school that afternoon, Kanzaki saw Kushida Kikyo again at the entrance to the Academic Building.

She was standing on the steps, talking to several girls. Though she was still chatting with them when she saw him, she turned around just as he approached, as if she'd sensed him coming, and flashed him a radiant smile.

"Kanzaki!"

He walked up to her. "What is it?"

"Nothing! I just wanted to say hi. Oh, right—" She took a small box out of her bag and held it out to him. "I baked these cookies myself. Could you bring some to Sakura, too? She doesn't seem to like crowded places, and I feel awkward going to find her directly."

The cookie box was wrapped beautifully and tied with a pale green ribbon.

"You baked them?"

"Yeah! I was bored in the dorm yesterday, so I baked two boxes. I gave one to the homeroom teacher, and I'm sharing the other with everyone." Kushida's eyes curved with her smile. "Go on, try one. There are two flavors, chocolate and matcha."

Kanzaki opened the box, took out a chocolate cookie, and put it in his mouth. It was crisp, with just the right amount of sweetness.

"It's good. Didn't you save any for yourself?"

"I'm on a diet." Kushida stuck out her tongue, waved at him, then ran back to the group of girls.

Kanzaki headed back with the cookie box in his hand. The cookies really were good; Kushida Kikyo's baking skills were as impressive as her social skills. But as he savored the cookie's sweetness, his thoughts turned to something else—the words she'd said in the sunset after swimming class.

"If one day I need help too, will you look at me the same way, Kanzaki?"

At the time, it had sounded like a half-joking probe. Now, along with the box of cookies and her friendly attitude toward Sakura in front of the entire class, it fit with the positive image she'd built up since the start of school—she was showing kindness. She offered it to nearly everyone indiscriminately, like a sprinkler spraying trust and warmth. But the water was spread so evenly that it was hard to tell where it truly flowed.

When he returned to the classroom, Sakura Airi was still there, standing by the window. The setting sun streamed in and gilded her silhouette. Her hat sat on the desk, and her black hair fell over her shoulders. She looked more relaxed than usual.

He put the cookie box on her desk. "Kushida asked me to bring these to you."

Sakura opened the box, looked inside, then picked up a matcha cookie and ate it in small bites. "...It's good."

"Kushida seems to care about you. She's asked me to bring you things several times."

Sakura didn't answer right away. She finished the cookie, wiped her fingers, then looked out the window. "Kushida's nice to everyone," she said softly, almost to herself. "But I think... her kindness is too perfect."

Kanzaki's expression didn't change, but his mind was already racing. Sakura Airi, the girl the whole class treated as invisible, was coming to the same judgment as Horikita Suzune. Horikita reached it through rational analysis, while Sakura sensed it intuitively. Two different paths had led to the same conclusion—there was something behind Kushida Kikyo's smile.

He couldn't help opening the Illustrated Guide in the depths of his mind. Sakura Airi, with an affinity of 70, had a new little note in her status bar: "Increased sensitivity to people who wear a mask." The page for Kushida Kikyo in the Illustrated Guide remained blurry, and the title field was still slowly taking shape. The note reading "The boundary between public and private remains unconfirmed" was still there, though its lettering seemed a little clearer than it had the week before. It wasn't changing. It was waiting for something to trigger it.

He closed the Illustrated Guide and said to Sakura, "Your instincts are sharp. But don't tell anyone about this yet, including Kushida herself."

Sakura nodded without asking why.

"Come on. I'll walk you back to the dorm." He picked up his bag.

When they left the classroom, the corridor was empty. The setting sun dyed it orange-red, and their shadows stretched long across the floor behind them.

As they passed the stairwell, Sakura suddenly stopped and looked at a half-open door around the corner. It led to the roof and was usually locked. For some reason, someone had forced it open today, leaving it ajar and revealing a dim flight of stairs inside.

"What's wrong?" Kanzaki followed her gaze.

"...Nothing." Sakura looked away and continued walking.

Kanzaki caught up with her, then glanced back at the door. What could you see from the rooftop behind an unlocked door? It was a question worth looking into next time.

They parted at the fork in the path to the dorms. Sakura bowed slightly to him, then hurried into the girls' dormitory with the cookie box in her arms. She walked much faster than she had at the start of school, and her back was straighter, too. Kanzaki stood there watching her go inside, then turned toward the boys' dormitory.

That night, he lay in bed, staring at the thin strip of light filtering through the gap in the curtains and falling on the ceiling.

The Illustrated Guide quietly opened to three pages. Sakura Airi: 70, status stable. Horikita Suzune: taking shape. Kushida Kikyo: still waiting.

This school was like a stage where a massive play was being rehearsed. Everyone had lines they were supposed to say out loud, and lines they deliberately kept hidden. What interested him wasn't just the content of those lines, but where the lights would turn when an actor misspoke and let their true feelings show.

He slowly closed the Illustrated Guide.

There was no rush. The curtain hadn't truly risen yet.

Over the next few days, he planned to take care of a few small things first. Find out why Ishizaki kept hanging around Sudo, figure out who had opened the door to the rooftop, and—find out why Kushida Kikyo smiled at everyone but never truly got close to anyone. None of these were part of the main plot, but he needed to lay the groundwork for the side plots. The richer the side plots, the more information he could have at his disposal when the main plot began.