Two days before summer break started, the house got quiet.
His parents left already. They moved to a different city for a new house. They left their two sons behind. The little brother stayed for school, the big brother stayed for college.
They hated the college the big brother picked. There were rumors about bullying and gangs ruling the campus. They were worried. Before leaving, they told him to pick a safe college nearby.
He nodded. He smiled. Then he did the exact opposite.
They didn't know he liked bullying. They didn't know he already decided to go to the college they hated.
He went with his friends. He planned to rule that place just like they ruled their old school.
Before he left, he stopped at his little brother's door.
"Don't tell them," he said quietly.
The little brother nodded. "I won't."
And just like that, the house was empty. Not their house. His house.
Two days before summer break ended, his phone buzzed a lot. Messages from teachers came in. Homework. Deadlines. Warnings.
He looked at the screen. Then he dropped the phone on the bed.
"I spent the whole vacation locked in this room," he mumbled. "Adult movies… games… just drifting through gooning."
He looked up at the ceiling.
"I don't hate studying because I am weak," he said low. "I can get full marks if I want. I just don't like getting attention. Once people watch you, they never stop."
He grabbed the bed sheet hard.
"So this is it," he whispered. "The end of my quiet era."
He looked around the dirty room. Books, games, stuff he never showed anyone.
"I read my books," he said. "Even the ones I wasn't supposed to. I lived in my own world. I did what I liked. And now… reality remembers I exist."
The silence was heavy.
He looked at the messy room one last time. Then he rolled up his sleeves and started cleaning. He stacked books. He folded clothes or threw them in the basket. He threw away trash. The room started to look organized, which he rarely did.
Once the house looked like someone lived there, he sat at his desk. He cracked his knuckles. He opened the assignments. Hours went by fast. He focused hard. His fingers moved on the keyboard. He took a small break to stretch and rub his eyes. He mumbled about how crazy deadlines felt after weeks of freedom.
By a miracle—or maybe just being stubborn—he finished everything six hours before school. He leaned back and looked at the ceiling.
"Looks like I have a few hours to sleep before school," he whispered. He had a small, happy smirk.
Beep… beep… beep…
The alarm woke him up.
He groaned and put his face in his hands. "Why does time go faster when you finally sleep?" he mumbled. He looked at the clock. Thirty minutes. Not enough for a good shower and breakfast, but enough to survive. Somehow. He always managed.
Morning light came through the curtains.
The light was on the floor and his desk.
He sat there for a while, staring at nothing.
His phone was face-down.
He didn't touch it.
Not yet.
He finished everything already. Every assignment. Every deadline. It was all in folders in his bag. It was proof he still functioned.
He breathed out slowly.
The house was too quiet.
Not a good quiet.
The kind where footsteps sound too loud.
He stood up and put on his uniform. He fixed his tie perfectly. The mirror showed a version of him that looked annoying and normal. Neat hair. Calm eyes. He didn't look like someone who spent vacation in the dark with glowing screens.
He looked like he belonged in a classroom.
That was the problem.
He put his bag on his shoulder and went to the hallway.
His brother's door was closed.
It had been closed for weeks.
He paused there.
He almost knocked.
Almost.
But he put his hand down and walked past.
The front door opened with a squeak.
Outside, the air was cool. It smelled like wet street and flowers from a neighbor.
Normal life was moving.
Cars passed.
People walked.
A dog barked.
He stood still.
"I'm back," he whispered.
Nobody answered.
He walked forward anyway.
He got to the school gate when the bell rang.
Students came from everywhere.
Laughing. Shouting. Bags hitting shoulders. Voices were loud like they waited all summer to speak.
He walked through the crowd without joining in.
The building was gray and familiar.
Inside, there were many footsteps. Lockers slammed. Someone argued about homework.
He kept his head down and walked.
Not because he was shy.
Because he didn't want to be seen.
Anyone who thinks I am an introvert is wrong, he thought.
I just don't want to talk to anyone.
He went to his classroom at the end of the hall.
He opened the door and went inside.
The room was half full.
Groups were in their corners. People talked like they never stopped. He took his seat without looking around.
Third seat from the right.
Second row.
His usual spot.
He sat back and looked out the window.
Minutes passed.
More students came in.
The noise went up and down.
Then the door opened again.
The room changed.
Footsteps.
A familiar voice cleared her throat.
Miss Yorikata came in. She put her bag on the desk neatly.
He looked up for a second.
And paused.
I never noticed she was this…
He frowned a bit.
I never noticed Miss Yorikata was this beautiful.
Or maybe my mind is messed up after watching too much adult stuff in summer.
He looked away before he embarrassed himself.
"Everyone, get ready for attendance," Miss Yorikata said.
Chairs moved.
The room got quiet.
His quiet era was officially over.
Names were called.
One by one.
Voices answered.
Hands raised.
Then his name.
"Akira Kagehiko."
He sat up a bit.
"Present."
His voice was calm. Flat. Normal.
Miss Yorikata put her clipboard down.
"I hope everyone enjoyed vacation," she said.
"Time with family, friends, maybe the beach."
Some students laughed.
"Since it is the first class, anyone who wants can share their story. Only for this period."
Hands went up fast.
Stories started.
Trips. Games. Late nights. Loud memories filled the room.
He listened but didn't react.
The bell rang.
Chairs moved.
Bags rustled.
Second period was next.
Miss Yorikata picked up her bag.
Then she stopped.
"I hope you all did your assignments," she added.
"After lunch, give them to the class representative."
Then she left.
The door closed.
The room woke up again.
Voices crossed.
Someone complained the homework was hard.
Someone bragged they finished in eight days.
Another said they finished in two weeks.
He stayed quiet.
Teachers came and went. Time passed. The clock was slow.
Then the afternoon break bell rang.
Chairs scraped loud.
Students ran outside to the noise and sun. Some stayed to talk.
He stayed in his seat.
He opened his simple lunch and ate slow. His eyes were unfocused. His mind was somewhere safe.
Footsteps stopped at his desk.
He looked up.
A girl was there.
Brown hair. Neat uniform but the skirt was shorter than others. She felt out of place in his corner.
"You are Akira, right?"
He blinked.
"Yes."
Her lips smiled a little.
"Can I talk to you in private?"
His hand stopped over his lunch.
A confused sound came from his throat.
"Here… is fine. Why somewhere else?"
"I will explain," she said soft. "But not here."
Her eyes looked at him too long.
Something about her look made his chest tight.
He hesitated.
Then he stood up.
They left the building and walked behind a shed near the garden. Old tools were in the shadows. The school noise was far away.
With every step, he thought hard.
Is she going to confess?
No. Impossible. Not her. Not to me.
Then what is it?
His quiet world shifted.
And he didn't know why.
She waited until nobody could see them.
Her face changed.
The softness left her eyes. She stood straight. The gentle voice was gone.
"If you don't mind," she said flat, "can I copy your assignments?"
No warmth in her voice.
No waiting.
Just expecting.
He looked at her.
"No."
His answer was simple. No emotion.
Her lips twitched.
"You don't know who my boyfriend is?" she said.
The words were light.
The meaning was not.
Everyone knew.
The right hand of the gang that ruled the school.
"So you are threatening me," he said calm.
"If I am," she replied, smiling a bit, "then what?"
"I don't think you want to spend the first days of school with one eye left."
He didn't move.
Why me?
There were many students. Loud ones. Nice ones. Easy targets.
But she chose him.
Because you don't talk.
He rarely joined talks. He wasn't in groups. People didn't make stories about him because he wasn't in their stories.
Because you won't expose her mask.
If she asked someone popular, rumors would spread. Someone would joke. Someone would notice. Her perfect image would break.
Because rumors won't grow from you.
He was invisible. Invisible people are safe. They don't echo. They don't leave footprints.
A clean solution.
No witnesses. No questions.
A quiet one.
Just like he always was.
Her voice cut his thoughts.
"Just give me your work."
He lifted his eyes.
"No."
For the first time, her smile shook.
"I give you my work if you are ready to do what I say. Whatever I say," he said. A strange smile was on his mouth.
"Did you lose your mind?" she snapped. "Don't cry when I tell my boyfriend about that."
"It is your choice to tell him. But I know one thing," he replied calm. "You don't have enough time to find someone else. If you get mine and print it now, there is a chance. Or else you need fifteen minutes. You only have ten left. Choose your path, Miyuki Tanaka."
"Forget it. I don't want your work, you moron," she said angry. She turned to leave.
"Are you sure about your real image being revealed?" he said without turning.
"What do you mean?" she asked, stopping.
"I can tell everyone about your true image," he continued. "That you only love Kenji because he is the right hand of the gang. That you use your face to seduce people. Maybe you even sleep with a few."
"So you think people will believe you?" she asked with a fake laugh. "And you are saying things like sleeping and seducing. When did I say that to you?"
"I can read minds. You are easy to read," he replied. His face had no emotion.
"You are just a little boy. Do you think people will believe you? How and why?" she said.
"Because I will tell them you said those things to me."
She scoffed. "So just because you say that, they will believe you? In that case I can say I am only in a relationship because he is powerful. I can say I use my cute face to seduce people. For you, I can even say I slept with five people. Now prove it. I can lie too. How will you prove anything? Now bye. I need to find someone else. Waste of time."
As she walked away, she suddenly heard her own voice.
She turned.
Akira was holding his phone up. The screen showed an audio recording running.
"Now I just need to edit the audio and remove my part," he said. "It is not going to a forensics report, right?"
"You moron!" she shouted.
"Shut up," he said calm. "Now I give you my work. Copy it. And meet me after school on the terrace."