The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the campus trees, breaking into thin lines that painted gold across the concrete. Airi Sakura walked beside me, clutching her camera as if it were an extension of her heartbeat. We were retracing spots where she'd taken photos the day before — scouting for what she called "blind spots," corners where eyes didn't reach, where stillness belonged only to shadows.
Her quiet voice broke the silence."Um… Miyamoto-kun, you really think these are useful?"
I nodded. "Yeah. If things go south again for the class, knowing where the cameras don't reach could help."
She blinked, hesitant, as if weighing whether I meant "help" in a strategic or moral sense.Before she could ask, the air shifted — the low, sharp echo of shouting bounced between the walls of the empty courtyard ahead.
"Stay down, bastard!"
My muscles tensed. I motioned to Airi to stay back as we crept closer.
Around the corner, we found them — Ken Sudō, tall and furious, breathing hard, his uniform shirt untucked and fists dripping with someone else's blood. On the ground lay three figures — Daichi Ishizaki, Kyōgo Komiya, and Reo Kondō, all from Class 1-C.
The silence that followed was heavy, only broken by the groans of the defeated.
"S-Sudō-kun…" Airi whispered, her voice trembling.
"Keep your distance," I said sharply, lowering my tone. "Just film. Quietly."
Her hands shook as she raised her camera. I took out my phone and began recording, my thumb steady despite the tension in the air. Sudō's eyes were wild — angry, confused, maybe even proud. The three C-class boys cursed at him from the ground, their voices filled with hatred.
"You'll regret this, you psycho," one of them spat. "We'll make sure you're done for."
Sudō turned to leave, shoulders still trembling with adrenaline. That's when his gaze caught mine.
For a second, I froze.
He stared — confusion crossing his face — before realizing I was only a passerby. His eyes softened with disbelief, then exhaustion. He muttered something under his breath, something like "None of your business," before limping away.
Airi clutched her camera tight. "We should go. If they see us—"
"I know. Come on."
We ran. The footage glimmered inside my phone like a burning coal. I didn't know if it would save someone — or destroy them.
The next morning, the classroom was unusually loud. Everyone buzzed with expectation — today was supposed to be payday. Points meant survival, food, comfort… life.
But Sae Chabashira stood at the front, arms crossed, face unreadable."Why haven't we received our points yet!?" Ike yelled from his seat.
Her eyes swept across the room like a blade."Because," she said coolly, "the school is currently re-evaluating something. All first-year points are being delayed until further notice."
A wave of murmurs swept through the room. Then she continued, "Your current class point total is 87."
The room froze. That number was far lower than expected.
"What the hell?!" Yamauchi shouted. "We passed the midterms!"
Chabashira only smiled faintly. "There are… complications."
When she left, the room erupted into chaos. Accusations flew, complaints turned into curses. Only Ayanokōji and Horikita remained silent, calm amid the noise — one observing, the other calculating.
Lunch came, but I wasn't hungry. I sat near the back with Airi, who fiddled with her camera nervously.
"Miyamoto-kun," she said softly. "Do you think… what we saw yesterday is connected?"
I glanced at her. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, fragile and uncertain.
"Maybe," I said. "But we should keep it quiet. For now."
Across the room, Kiyotaka was eating alone again. Horikita sat at her desk, eating in silence. Their quietness seemed to exist on the same wavelength — two minds thinking too much, but never saying enough.
After school, Chabashira summoned Sudō to the staff room. He looked irritated, restless. When he finally followed her out, the tension in the class thickened.
Kiyotaka and Horikita walked home together. I stayed behind, pretending to scroll through my phone while listening to fragments of their conversation.
"You've changed," Horikita said.
Kiyotaka's voice was quiet. "Guess I've been getting used to things."
He mentioned Kushida. Horikita asked if he wasn't worried about her "other side." I saw her frown faintly — an emotion she rarely showed. Then, they vanished down the hall.
That night, I was reviewing the footage from my phone when there was a sudden bang on my dorm door.
"Miyamoto! You awake?"
It was Sudō's voice.
Before I could respond, another sound echoed down the hall — Kiyotaka's door slamming open across from mine. I peeked out just in time to see Sudō barging into his room like a man possessed.
I followed quietly, curious.
Inside, Kushida was already there. She smiled awkwardly as Sudō began rambling, his words tumbling over each other in desperation.
He told them everything — the fight, the ambush, the accusations from Class C, the threat of suspension. Kiyotaka sat back, listening, his eyes calm but sharp. Kushida nodded sympathetically, her warmth soothing the edge of Sudō's panic.
When Sudō mentioned he'd seen someone — a shadow, a watcher — I felt a pulse in my chest. That was us.
"Please, Ayanokōji," Sudō begged. "I can't get expelled. Help me."
Kiyotaka leaned back in his chair. "It's not impossible. But we'll need proof. Evidence."
He explained the odds — the injuries, the witnesses, the lack of credibility. It was grim.
Sudō clenched his fists. "I know someone saw us. I could feel it."
Kushida looked at Kiyotaka, then back to him. "We'll find them. Don't give up."
When Sudō left, the air grew heavier.
Kushida turned serious. "You'll help him, won't you, Ayanokōji-kun?"
He hesitated. "I'll… do what I can."
"Good." She smiled — the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Then let's find the witness."
I watched from the door as they began planning. My pocket grew heavier — the phone with the recording resting like a secret too hot to hold.
The next morning, Chabashira addressed the class again.
"Yesterday," she said coldly, "Ken Sudō was involved in a violent altercation with three students from Class 1-C. Both sides have given conflicting reports."
A silence fell.
"If there was a witness to the event," she continued, "now would be the time to come forward."
Every head turned, every whisper stopped. My heartbeat thundered in my chest.
No one spoke.
After a moment, she nodded. "Very well. Homeroom is over."
When she left, the class exploded.
"What the hell was he thinking!?" Ike shouted. "Now we're losing points again!"
"Why's it always him!?" someone else complained.
The air grew toxic — until Kushida stood up.
"Everyone, please!" she said. Her voice was calm, warm, almost angelic. "Sudō-kun didn't do it on purpose. He's trying to prove his innocence. He even came to me yesterday for help."
Her words shifted the air immediately. Murmurs turned to curiosity, and then to reluctant concern.
Hirata nodded. "If Kushida-san believes him, then we should too. Let's help him."
Even Karuizawa agreed. "Fine, but only if it doesn't drag the rest of us down."
The class began to move — not as one, but at least in the same direction.
Lunch came, and the small circle gathered again: Kiyotaka, Horikita, Kushida, and the Idiot Trio.
Sudō apologized to Horikita, but she met him with cold eyes."You brought this on yourself," she said bluntly.
He snapped. "You think I wanted this!? I was defending myself!"
"Then prove it," she replied. "Not with fists. With reason."
The tension was thick enough to cut. She left, silent and sharp as a blade.
Kiyotaka sighed. "She's not wrong," he said softly. "But she's not heartless either."
The others fell quiet.
Kushida excused herself to gather information from the upperclassmen, and the boys' conversation quickly derailed — turning to the usual nonsense about girls and crushes. I only half-listened, staring out the window.
Ike mentioned something odd — how he'd been using his phone to track Kushida's location using the friend system.
Creepy. But… possibly useful.
After school, the investigation began in earnest.
Two groups formed — one led by Hirata and Karuizawa, the other by Kushida. Horikita refused to join either.
"I won't help," she said flatly when Kiyotaka and Kushida approached her in front of the school gate.
Kushida tried to reason with her. "But Horikita-san, Sudō-kun's—"
"Until he understands why he ended up in this situation, helping him means nothing," she interrupted. "He needs to realize his own fault first."
She turned her gaze to Kiyotaka. "And you… You know more than you show. Stop pretending to be average."
Then she walked away.
The wind carried the echo of her words. Kushida frowned. "What did she mean by that?"
Kiyotaka looked uneasy. "She's right. Sudō's attitude brought this on himself. Until he reflects, nothing changes."
He paused. "But don't tell him that yet. He needs to figure it out on his own."
Kushida nodded, reluctantly agreeing.
We regrouped in the classroom later. Kushida's charm had opened doors in Class 1-B, so we followed her there to ask around.
The atmosphere in Class B was calmer — like another world compared to ours. Smiles, laughter, politeness. Honami Ichinose waved us over, her kindness effortless.
"Looking for a witness?" she asked.
Kushida smiled brightly. "Yes. We're hoping someone might've seen the fight between Sudō-kun and the boys from Class C."
Ichinose tilted her head, thoughtful. "Hmm. I heard rumors, but I didn't see anything myself. I can ask around, though."
"Thank you," Kushida said.
As she spoke, I watched from the corner — quiet, observing, recording every gesture, every word.
Class B's composure was unsettling — like they already knew how to play the game better than we did.
When we left, Kiyotaka looked at me."Miyamoto," he said quietly. "You've been quiet."
I met his gaze. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
"About truth," I said. "Sometimes the camera sees everything. But people only believe what they want to."
He didn't reply, but his faint smirk said enough.
That night, I sat in my dorm, replaying the footage. Airi's photos were crisp — proof of the fight. My video, shaky but clear, showed everything: Sudō's restraint, the provocation, the moment it turned violent.
If I sent this to Chabashira, Sudō would be cleared.
But at what cost?
Would Class C retaliate? Would the school twist it against us?
I closed my eyes. The glow of the phone screen flickered like a heartbeat.
Airi's message popped up a second later.
"Miyamoto-kun… what should we do with the photos?"
I didn't answer right away. My reflection stared back at me in the black glass of the phone — a shadow caught between truth and strategy.
"Not yet," I finally typed.
The day before Sudō's trial, the air in the classroom felt thick — like invisible pressure was pushing down on all of us. Everyone pretended to focus on their books, but their minds were elsewhere.
I sat in the back, staring at the window. Outside, the clouds drifted lazily over the campus — too peaceful for the chaos waiting underneath.
Airi Sakura sat a few desks away, fidgeting with her phone. She'd been uneasy since the day of the fight, her hands trembling every time someone mentioned Sudō's name.
When the final bell rang, I stood up."Sudō," I said, walking toward his desk.
He looked up, irritated and tired. "What now, Miyamoto?"
"Come with me. You too, Sakura."
Airi blinked in confusion. "Eh? Me?"
"Yes. We're going to the faculty room."
The walk there was silent. Sudō kept cracking his knuckles; Airi clutched her camera strap so tightly her fingers went pale.
Chabashira-sensei was inside when we entered — papers in one hand, her sharp eyes immediately narrowing as she spotted us.
"What is it, Miyamoto?" she asked.
I stepped forward. "We have information relevant to Sudō's case."
Her eyebrow arched. "Go on."
I nodded to Airi. "Sakura-san witnessed the fight between Sudō and the Class C students."
Airi's breath caught, but she gathered her courage. "Y-yes. I… saw it. From behind the special teaching building. Sudō-kun didn't start the fight. They… they were the ones who came after him."
Chabashira's expression didn't change. She crossed her arms. "Convenient. If that's true, why didn't you say anything during homeroom when I asked for witnesses?"
"I… I was scared," Airi admitted. "I didn't want people to know I was there… or think badly of me."
Chabashira let out a quiet sigh. "Fear, huh. Typical for this class."
I stepped forward again, my tone calm. "Then allow me to remind you, sensei — if Class C made the accusation, shouldn't they be the ones to produce evidence? If they can't, it becomes slander. And since the special teaching building has no surveillance cameras, the school can't rely on that either."
Her eyes flicked toward me, intrigued.
"So," I continued, "why don't we reverse the burden of proof? Class C has a week to show evidence. If they fail, it's ruled as a false accusation."
The room fell quiet.
Chabashira smirked faintly. "You've thought this through, Miyamoto. Fine. I'll allow it."
Sudō looked at me like I'd just thrown him a lifeline."M-Miyamoto… bro…" he stammered.
"Save it," I said. "We're not done yet."
"Chabashira-sensei," I added, "Sudō has given me full authority to represent him during the deliberation. I'll stand as his proxy."
She nodded slowly. "Very well. I'll inform the others."
When we stepped out into the hallway, Sudō turned to me, eyes wide."Dude… you're seriously helping me with this?"
"Of course," I said simply. "But one condition."
"What is it?"
I looked him dead in the eyes. "Don't talk during the hearing. Not one word."
He frowned. "Eh? Why?"
"Because you have a temper. And because one wrong word could make everything worse."
He scratched his head. "You're not wrong…"
That night, I bought a roll of tape from the convenience store downstairs.
The next day came too fast.
As the sun climbed over the dorms, I could already feel the tension. Every step toward the main building felt heavier.
When Sudō saw the tape in my hand, his eyes widened."M-Miyamoto, what's that for?"
I peeled a small piece and waved it. "Insurance. If you open your mouth, I'll use it."
He froze. "You serious?"
"Completely."
Kiyotaka, walking beside us, hid a smirk behind his calm gaze. "Effective method," he murmured.
Airi, on the other hand, looked nervous. "Do we… really need that?"
"Yes," I said. "We're fighting for his future."
We reached the faculty hallway just as the meeting was about to begin. B-Class's homeroom teacher, Chie Hoshinomiya, was waiting near the door, half-hugging a folder and humming to herself.
"Oh~ Chabashira, you're so scary when you're serious," she teased as our teacher appeared behind us.
"Get inside, Hoshinomiya," Chabashira said dryly, shoving her toward the meeting room.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately.
The Student Council Room was on the fourth floor — all dark wood, polished glass, and oppressive silence.
At the center sat Manabu Horikita, the Student Council President, calm as an iceberg. His presence was overwhelming, even when he didn't speak.
Beside him stood Akane Tachibana, holding a clipboard, her expression sharp and unreadable.
Horikita's eyes lifted slowly as we entered."Let us begin," he said. His tone carried weight — the kind that made everyone instinctively straighten their posture.
Tachibana began reading the case summary — the accusation, the witnesses, the alleged assault.
When she finished, Manabu glanced at me."Before we proceed," he said, "identify yourselves."
"Class D," Chabashira answered. "Representing the defendant, Ken Sudō, is his classmate Miyamoto Soshi."
I stood. "As his agent, I take full responsibility for his defense. Everything I say represents Sudō's statement."
Sudō nodded vigorously beside me, mouth taped shut just as promised.
Manabu's eyes glimmered faintly. "Accepted."
He turned to the right side of the table. "Class C, state your case."
Ishizaki, Komiya, and Kondō began speaking all at once, their voices overlapping in a messy chorus of indignation.
"It started with the basketball club!" Ishizaki said. "Sudō called Komiya and Kondō out to the special building! He said he'd 'teach them a lesson.'"
Komiya added, "We knew he'd get violent, so we brought Ishizaki as backup! He attacked first — he punched me in the face without warning!"
They displayed photos of bruises, their voices shaking with performative outrage.
I glanced at Sudō — he was trembling with rage under the tape, but silent.
When they finished, Manabu looked toward us."Class D?"
Before Horikita Suzune could speak, she froze — visibly unsettled by her brother's gaze.
Kiyotaka leaned in and, without warning, tickled her sides.
She gasped, eyes snapping open. "Wh-what are you—"
"Focus," he whispered calmly. "We'll lose if you freeze now."
Color flooded her cheeks. She glared, then inhaled sharply. "Understood."
She rose to her feet. "I find it suspicious," she began, voice steady. "If this incident happened due to basketball club friction, then why was Ishizaki — who isn't in the club — present in the first place?"
Class C shifted uncomfortably.
"He was there as a bodyguard!" Komiya blurted out.
Horikita crossed her arms. "Then if Ishizaki is such a strong fighter, how did all three of you end up injured while Sudō was unharmed?"
The question cut through the room. Even Manabu's gaze sharpened.
Silence.
Then his eyes turned to me. "Miyamoto. Anything to add?"
I stood slowly, adjusting my uniform jacket. "Yes."
I placed my palms flat on the table.
"It's completely false. Sudō did meet them that day, but he realized something was wrong the moment Ishizaki appeared. He knew he couldn't handle three-on-one, so he ran away. That's why he doesn't have injuries."
I paused, letting the words sink in.
"And contrary to Class C's claim, it wasn't Sudō who called them. It was Komiya who suggested meeting at the special teaching building — a place with no cameras, I might add. Convenient, isn't it?"
Murmurs rose among the teachers. Hoshinomiya's eyes flickered curiously toward me; Chabashira gave the faintest of smirks.
"As for the injuries," I continued, "we have no knowledge of how they occurred. But," — I turned to look at the Class C trio — "considering their temperament, it's not impossible they injured each other during a scuffle to fabricate evidence."
The room went still.
Manabu leaned forward. "Do you have proof?"
I smiled faintly. "I do. A witness."
The door opened softly, and Airi stepped in — clutching her camera like a lifeline.
Her voice trembled, but she didn't falter. "I… I saw everything that happened that day. From behind the special building."
She placed several printed photos on the table — each one stamped with time and date metadata. One showed the confrontation in progress, another captured Ishizaki lunging forward first.
"This… is my testimony," she said, bowing her head.
A ripple of whispers passed through the room.
Manabu took the photos, scanning them silently. Then, with a faint nod, handed them to Tachibana.
Chabashira's lips curved upward. "So, Class C, would you care to explain why your 'victims' were attacking first?"
Komiya's face turned pale. "T-those… those photos could be edited!"
I folded my arms. "Then show yours. You claimed Sudō hit you — where's the video? The school's cameras don't reach that building, remember?"
Their silence was answer enough.
Manabu closed the folder before him. "I believe I've heard enough."
He exchanged a glance with Tachibana, who nodded.
"Given the lack of evidence from Class C and the credible photographic testimony from Class D, we shall consider this incident a false accusation."
Relief flooded through me — and through Sudō, whose muffled cheer behind the tape drew a few amused smiles.
But before we could celebrate, another voice spoke.
It was Sakagami, Class C's homeroom teacher."In that case," he said stiffly, "I propose a compromise. We'll withdraw the accusation if Class D refrains from pressing for disciplinary action against my students."
Manabu's eyes flicked to me. "Miyamoto?"
I nodded. "That's acceptable."
When the meeting ended, the tension lifted like a fog.
Airi exhaled shakily. "I… I can't believe I actually did it…"
"You did well," I said softly. "Without you, they'd have expelled him."
Sudō scratched the back of his head, eyes red. "Damn, Miyamoto… Sakura… I owe you both. Big time."
"Then pay it forward," I said. "Just don't make me sit through another council meeting."
He laughed weakly. "Fair enough."
It had been only a few days since Sudō's trial ended.Class D was finally breathing again — the air lighter, the laughter genuine.
But I couldn't relax.Because there was still something unresolved — something I'd known about for weeks but couldn't act on until now.
Airi Sakura's stalker.
It was just after class ended. Horikita was discussing future study plans with Hirata and Kushida, while Airi quietly packed her things in the corner — as always, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
I stood up."Sudō," I called.
He turned, half-eating a bag of chips. "Yo, Miyamoto. What's up?"
"You still owe me, right?"
He blinked. "Huh?"
"You said you'd repay me after the trial."
He scratched his neck. "Uh, yeah… I did say that."
"Good," I said, already walking toward the door. "Then come with me."
Airi looked up, confused. "M-Miyamoto-kun?"
I smiled at her. "We're going to end your problem."
The late afternoon sun glinted off the windows of Keyaki Mall as we approached. Crowds passed by — couples, groups of students, laughter echoing in the air.
But my attention was fixed on the small blinking dot on my phone.
I'd planted a tracker earlier — a discreet digital tag slipped into one of the stalker's envelopes that Airi had brought me. Now, it led us straight to him.
The dot stopped moving near the electronics store.
"There," I said, pointing.
Sudō cracked his knuckles. "Finally. I've been itching for something physical."
"Control yourself," I warned. "We need evidence first."
We moved into position just outside the glass doors, where we could see everything.
Inside, Airi stood near the counter, facing the clerk — a thin young man with messy hair and unsettling eyes that lingered too long.
I activated my phone's recording function.
"Why are you avoiding me, Airi-chan?" the clerk said, voice trembling with emotion. "Don't you see? It's destiny. You and I are connected. I've sent you so many letters, haven't I? You must have read them all!"
Airi took a shaky step back. "P-please stop… I never asked for them!"
He smiled weakly, eyes glassy. "But I saw your smile once in this store. That's when I knew… you were the one."
She clutched her bag tightly, anger flashing through her fear. "That's not love — it's harassment!"
She threw the stack of letters she'd brought with her onto the floor. Pages scattered like broken feathers.
"Don't you get it?!" she shouted. "You're scaring me!"
For a moment, the man froze. Then his expression twisted — all warmth gone, replaced by something darker.
"Don't talk to me like that," he hissed, stepping forward. "You can't just reject fate!"
He slammed his hand against the wall beside her head, pinning her in place.
Airi gasped, trying to push him away. "Stop! Let go of me!"
I felt my jaw tighten. I'd seen enough.
I whispered, "Sudō. Go."
Sudō didn't need to be told twice. He moved like a blur, shoving open the glass door so hard it slammed against the wall.
"Hey, jackass!" he shouted.
The stalker froze, his hand still inches from Airi's face.
Sudō grabbed his wrist, twisting it with controlled force. "You think it's okay to touch a girl like that?!"
The man stammered, panicking. "W-wait! I was just—"
"Just what?" Sudō growled. "Being a creep?"
I stepped inside behind them, holding up my phone so the recording screen was visible. "We've got everything on video. Your letters, your voice, your little performance just now."
The man's face drained of color. "Y-you can't… you can't prove—"
"Oh, we can," I interrupted calmly. "And I will."
He tore free of Sudō's grip and bolted toward the back of the store — but Sudō was faster.
One long stride, a quick hook of his arm, and the stalker was on the floor, groaning.
"Don't even think about running," Sudō said, standing over him.
A small crowd had gathered now, murmuring and whispering. I ignored them and crouched beside Airi.
She was trembling uncontrollably, her face pale. Her legs gave way, and I caught her before she fell.
"Easy," I said softly. "It's over."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "M-Miyamoto-kun… why… why did you—"
I smiled faintly. "Because you're my subordinate. And when my people get bullied, I can't just stand by and watch."
She let out a small sob, gripping my sleeve. "I… I was so scared…"
"I know," I said. "But you don't have to deal with it alone anymore."
Sudō came over, wiping his hands. "He's tied up with a cable tie. The cops are coming."
"Good work," I said. "That repays your debt."
He grinned. "Yeah… guess we're even."
Later that evening, after giving a statement to the mall's security, I took Airi to the Student Council Office to make an official report.
When we entered, the familiar atmosphere hit me again — polished wood, calm lighting, and that suffocating aura of authority.
Manabu Horikita looked up from a document. "Miyamoto. Sakura. What brings you here?"
I bowed lightly. "A report, President. We've resolved an off-campus harassment case involving Sakura-san. Here's the evidence."
I handed over my phone and a written statement. Tachibana, standing beside him, took them and began reviewing the data with her usual precision.
Airi stood beside me, nervous but trying to stay composed.
As Tachibana flipped through the photos, I noticed something.The soft features, the clear eyes, even the way she adjusted her glasses — it was uncanny.
"By the way," I said casually, "Tachibana-san, are you and Airi related by any chance?"
Both girls looked at me in surprise.
"Huh?" Airi blinked. "R-related?"
Tachibana raised an eyebrow. "No. Why do you ask?"
I shrugged. "You just… look alike. The calm expression, the quiet voice. Could've sworn you were sisters."
Manabu let out a quiet exhale that might've been a laugh. "That's the first time I've heard that comparison."
Airi's cheeks turned pink. "I-I don't think I'm that cool…"
Tachibana adjusted her glasses again. "If anything, I should be flattered."
I smiled faintly. "Guess I just have a good eye for details."
Manabu folded his hands. "I'll see to it that the school's administration handles the matter appropriately. Stalking and harassment, even from a civilian, are not things we take lightly. Well done for responding correctly, Miyamoto."
"Just doing my job," I replied.
His eyes studied me for a moment — quiet, assessing, like he was reading a book only he could understand.
"Still," he said at last, "you seem to attract unusual incidents."
I chuckled. "Guess trouble and I are old friends."
We left the office in silence, the corridor empty and peaceful.
Airi walked beside me, her steps small, her hands clutching her bag.
"Um… Miyamoto-kun," she said softly. "Thank you. For everything."
I looked down at her. "You don't have to thank me, Sakura. Just remember what I said."
She tilted her head. "What?"
"If something happens, don't suffer in silence. Tell me. That's what I'm here for."
Her eyes softened. "You really are… like a boss."
I smiled. "Then you'd better not make me worry, employee."
She laughed — a small, genuine laugh that sounded lighter than I'd ever heard from her before.