Midday Nap

The first Monday after the swimming class, Class D returned to its daily rhythm.

The bandage on Yoshida's face had finally been removed, revealing a shallow scar. He seemed quite proud of it, telling everyone who would listen that it was a "medal of honor from a scrap with the second-years." Sudo stood by, embellishing the story, describing the three-on-one ambush behind the gymnasium as a heroic feat where "Yoshida took on three guys all by himself." Every time Yoshida heard Sudo bragging like that, he would instinctively glance toward Kanzaki Toru, then quickly look away.

Kanzaki Toru pretended not to notice. He didn't need Yoshida's gratitude; it was enough that Yoshida remembered he owed him a favor.

Sakura Airi's changes were more subtle than Yoshida's. She had started eating lunch in the classroom. Not in the cafeteria, nor openly at her desk, but quietly taking a homemade bento box out of her bag after most people had left the room, eating in small, delicate bites. The contents of the bento changed every day—onigiri with tamagoyaki on Monday, fried chicken with broccoli on Tuesday, sandwiches with cherry tomatoes on Wednesday. The portions were small, but neatly arranged.

When someone starts preparing their own bento with care, it means they have at least begun to view this place as a living space that deserves to be treated with seriousness, rather than a prison they are ready to flee at any moment.

On Tuesday at noon, Kanzaki Toru stayed in the classroom a bit later than usual. He had gone to the library to return some materials, and by the time he returned, most people had already left, leaving only that familiar figure in the corner of the front row.

"What's in the bento today?" he asked casually while tidying up the notebooks on his desk.

Sakura's shoulders gave a slight tremor, then she hesitated before turning the bento box to show him. Today it was fried shrimp and onigiri, the rice balls wrapped in a thin layer of nori with clean, even edges.

"Looks good."

"...Kanzaki-kun, would you like to try one?" Her voice was very soft, her gaze fixed on the edge of the bento box, not daring to look at him. Her fingers exerted a slight pressure as she pushed the box a little toward him.

Kanzaki Toru glanced at her, then reached out and took an onigiri. "Thanks."

The onigiri tasted excellent. It wasn't the standardized "good" of a convenience store, but the kind of good that came from someone putting their heart into it. He had eaten countless meals in the White Room, every one of them a nutritionally calculated ration; not a single one had ever tasted like this.

"It's delicious."

Sakura didn't speak, but the corners of her mouth, visible beneath the brim of her hat, twitched slightly.

Kanzaki Toru finished the last bite and took a sip from the water bottle on his desk. He noticed that Sakura wasn't wearing her hat today. It sat on the corner of the desk, held down by a notebook. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, and without the obstruction of the brim, her entire face was exposed. Her skin was very fair, and her features looked more refined than when she wore the hat, but those purple eyes still didn't dare to meet his, focusing instead on the remaining half of the fried shrimp in her box.

"Not wearing your hat?"

"...It's too stuffy in the classroom." Sakura's voice was very light. "And... only Kanzaki-kun is here."

Her tone was flat when she said this, as if stating a fact. But Kanzaki Toru could weigh the significance of that sentence. "Only Kanzaki-kun is here"—it meant that in front of this person, she didn't feel the need to hide herself.

"Any plans for the afternoon?"

"...I want to go to the library to return a book." Sakura packed away her bento box, hesitating for a moment. "What about you, Kanzaki-kun?"

"Going to check out the gym."

"The gym?" Sakura looked up, a trace of surprise flashing in her purple eyes. "Do you work out often, Kanzaki-kun?"

"Not really. Sudo has been practically living there lately, and I want to see how much he can actually lift." Kanzaki Toru slung his bag over his shoulder. "If you're free, you can come along. The library is right next to the gym."

Sakura hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.

When the two of them walked out of the classroom, the sunlight in the hallway was perfect. As a few students passed by, Sakura instinctively took half a step behind Kanzaki Toru, but she didn't stop walking.

Kanzaki Toru noticed her reaction out of the corner of his eye. Compared to the first day of school, when she had completely frozen up on the bus, she was now able to keep moving even when people passed by. The progress was slow, but the direction was right. His mastery of camouflage and heightened observation allowed him to precisely control his presence in the crowd—neither too conspicuous to attract unnecessary attention, nor too low-profile to make her lose her target.

It was hard to say whether this coordination was his initiative or just something that happened naturally. But it was effective.

At the library, Sakura went to return her book while Kanzaki Toru waited at the entrance. He leaned against the wall, his gaze sweeping across the end of the hallway. Hirata Yosuke was walking over from the other side, holding a stack of documents; he nodded slightly when he saw Kanzaki Toru. Kanzaki Toru nodded back in return. The two didn't speak, and Hirata walked straight into the library.

Kanzaki Toru watched his back disappear between the bookshelves. Hirata Yosuke was well-liked in the class; both boys and girls were willing to talk to him. Yet he never hogged the spotlight, never spoke loudly, and never took the initiative to stand at the center of any conflict. His presence was just enough to make people feel he was a reliable companion, without making them feel he was a threat. This sense of boundaries wasn't innate; it was practiced.

However, he had no conflict of interest with Hirata for now. Having more people with a sense of boundaries in Class D was beneficial to the overall situation.

When Sakura came out of the library, she had a new photography book in her hand. The two continued forward, and soon they heard Sudo's booming voice coming from the gym.

"One hundred kilograms! Did you see that! One hundred!"

Kanzaki Toru pushed the door open, and air thick with the smell of sweat and the clatter of metal equipment rushed to meet them. Sudo was standing in front of the bench press rack, wearing a T-shirt soaked through with sweat, the muscles of his chest bulging beneath the damp fabric. Four large iron plates were hung on the barbell, fifty kilograms on each side, totaling exactly one hundred with the bar. Three other Class D boys were gathered around, Yoshida among them, all looking at Sudo with complex expressions that mixed envy with defiance.

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

"I'm not very good at this."

"You only learn by doing!" Sudo was too enthusiastic to refuse. "Come on, try the empty bar first, learn the form."

Kanzaki Toru walked to the bench press, lay down, and gripped the barbell. The empty bar was twenty kilograms, which meant nothing to him—the physical training in the White Room had been far more rigorous. But he deliberately made his movements look unpracticed, intentionally wobbling a bit on the first few reps and letting his wrists shake slightly.

"It's alright, take it slow." Sudo stood by his head, one hand hovering to spot the barbell. "Keep your wrists straight, control the descent to your chest. Right, just like that—one more."

After doing a dozen or so, Kanzaki Toru set the barbell down and sat up to stretch his arms. "It's definitely not easy."

"Your form is pretty good; you'll be able to add weight after practicing a few more times." Sudo patted him on the shoulder, then suddenly lowered his voice. "About the other day, thanks. That idiot Yoshida might not say it out loud, but he remembers it."

"It was nothing."

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

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

He walked back to Sakura Airi. Sakura had stayed by the wall near the entrance the entire time, keeping a safe distance from the workout area, but her eyes had been observing. Not Sudo, but the boys gathered around him.

"Notice anything?" Kanzaki Toru asked once they were out of the gym.

"There's a tall boy with yellow hair who kept watching Sudo-kun. Not Yoshida-kun. His expression wasn't very friendly." Sakura paused. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it."

"No, you're not overthinking it. That boy is Ishizaki, and he's been hovering around Sudo for the past few days."

Sakura nodded without asking further. She provided the observations, and he provided the judgment. This division of labor no longer needed to be stated between them.

After school, Kanzaki Toru saw Kushida Kikyo once again at the entrance of the school building.

She was standing on the steps talking to a few girls. Even though she was in the middle of a conversation, she turned her head as if she had sensed him approaching, and flashed a brilliant smile in his direction.

"Kanzaki!"

He walked over to her. "Something up?"

"Nothing at all, just wanted to say hi. Oh, right—" She pulled a small box from her bag and handed it to him. "I baked these cookies myself. Could you take a portion to Sakura for me? She doesn't seem to like crowded places, and I feel a bit shy about approaching her directly."

The cookie box was exquisitely wrapped, tied with a pale green ribbon.

"You baked these?"

"Mm-hmm! I had some free time in the dorms yesterday, so I baked two boxes. One for our homeroom teacher, and one to share with everyone." Kushida's eyes curved into crescents as she smiled. "Go on, try one. There's chocolate and matcha."

Kanzaki Toru opened the box, took a chocolate cookie, and popped it into his mouth. It was crisp, with just the right amount of sweetness.

"Delicious. Didn't you save any for yourself?"

"I'm on a diet." Kushida stuck out her tongue, waved at him, and turned to run back to a group of girls.

Kanzaki Toru walked back, the cookie box in hand. The cookies were indeed delicious; Kushida Kikyo's culinary skills were as impressive as her social ones. But as he savored the lingering sweetness, his mind was on something else—the words she had spoken under the sunset after swimming class ended.

"If I ever needed help one day, would Kanzaki-kun look at me the same way?"

At the time, it had sounded like a half-joking probe. Now, paired with this box of cookies, her friendly attitude toward Sakura in front of the whole class, and all the positive impressions she had cultivated since the start of the term—she was projecting goodwill. She dispensed it to everyone almost indiscriminately, like a sprinkler showering trust and warmth. But the water was spread so evenly that it made it impossible to see where the true current flowed.

Back in the classroom, Sakura Airi hadn't left yet; she was standing by the window. The setting sun shone in, gilding her silhouette. Her hat sat on the desk, her black hair draped over her shoulders, and she looked more relaxed than usual.

He placed the cookie box on her desk. "Kushida asked me to bring this to you."

Sakura opened the box, took a matcha cookie, and ate it in small bites. "...It's good."

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

Sakura didn't answer immediately. She finished the cookie, wiped her fingers, and looked out the window. "Kushida-san is nice to everyone." Her voice was soft, as if she were talking to herself. "But I feel... her kindness is too perfect."

Kanzaki Toru's expression remained unchanged, but his mind was racing. Sakura Airi, the girl the whole class treated as invisible, was making the same judgment as Horikita Suzune. The only difference was that Horikita used rational analysis, while Sakura relied on intuitive perception. Two different paths, yet they arrived at the same conclusion—there was something behind Kushida Kikyo's smile.

He couldn't help but open the index in the depths of his consciousness. For Sakura Airi, whose favorability was at 70, a small note had appeared in her status bar: "Increased sensitivity toward impostors." The page belonging to Kushida Kikyo remained blurred, the title bar still slowly forming, and the note "Boundary between surface and interior to be confirmed" remained in place—though the font seemed a tiny bit clearer than it had been last week. It wasn't changing; it was waiting for a trigger.

He closed the index and said to Sakura, "Your intuition is sharp. But don't tell anyone about this yet, including Kushida herself."

Sakura nodded, not asking why.

"Let's go. I'll walk you back to the dorms." He picked up his bag.

When the two of them stepped out of the classroom, the hallway was already empty. The sunset stained the entire corridor orange-red, casting their shadows long and dragging them across the floor behind them.

As they passed the stairwell, Sakura suddenly stopped, looking at a door left ajar at the corner of the stairs. That door led to the roof; it was usually locked, but today, someone had pried it open. It stood slightly ajar, revealing a stretch of dim stairs inside.

"What is it?" Kanzaki Toru followed her gaze.

"...Nothing." Sakura withdrew her gaze and continued walking.

Kanzaki Toru followed, glancing back at the door once more. An unlocked door—what could be seen from the rooftop? That was a question worth saving for another time.

They parted ways at the fork leading to the dorms. Sakura gave him a slight bow and hurried into the girls' dormitory building, clutching the cookie box. Her pace was much faster than it had been at the start of the term, and her back was straighter than before. Kanzaki Toru stood still, watching her enter, then turned toward the boys' dormitory.

That night, he lay in bed, staring at the sliver of light filtering through the gap in the curtains onto the ceiling.

The index turned three pages in silence. Sakura Airi at 70, status stable. Horikita Suzune, currently forming. Kushida Kikyo, still waiting.

This school was like a stage where a massive play was being rehearsed. Everyone had their assigned lines to speak on stage, along with those deliberately hidden dialogues. What he cared about wasn't just the content of these lines, but the moment when an actor fumbled their script and revealed their true feelings—where all the spotlights would turn.

He slowly closed the index.

No rush. The curtain hadn't truly risen yet.

Over the next few days, he planned to take care of a few small matters. Find out why Ishizaki kept hovering around Sudo, find out who had opened that door to the roof, and—find out why Kushida Kikyo smiled at everyone yet never truly got close to anyone. None of these were the main plot, but he needed the side quests to pave the way. The richer the side quests, the more information he would have when the main plot arrived.