Masato let out a slow breath, the bat resting against his shoulder as he took a step forward, his voice calm—almost casual.
"You know… I usually don't get involved in physical fights."
A faint smile appeared.
"I prefer something more appropriate."
"Something more suitable for my personality."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I manipulate people. Their thoughts."
Another step.
"I make them fight each other… sometimes with nothing more than a few well-placed lies… in the right tone."
His eyes stayed locked on Kaito.
"I make people believe lies."
A small pause.
"I can make them believe an innocent person… someone who wouldn't even slap anyone…"
His voice dropped slightly.
"…is capable of killing someone."
The smile lingered, thin and cold.
"That is called mind manipulation, a useful skill that I've polished to perfection."
Kaito stood still, watching him.
The moment he recognized Masato, the tension in his body had already faded. His shoulders relaxed, his breathing steady, as if the situation in front of him wasn't something to panic about.
His eyes remained calm.
Focused.
Almost indifferent.
Masato's expression shifted.
Subtle—but darker.
"But when I was about to turn the whole class against you…"
His grip tightened on the bat.
"That bitch showed up from nowhere and ruined it."
Another step closer.
"She didn't just ruin my reputation…"
His eyes sharpened.
"She used what I'm good at against me—but in a more efficient way."
A short pause.
"She manipulated the evidence… twisted everything… and turned me into the culprit ."
A dry laugh escaped him.
"And somehow… she even found a way to put it on my phone."
He tilted his head slightly, his voice quieter now.
"I don't know how she pulled that off, but what I do know is my reputation is completely shattered."
Silence stretched for a moment.
"There is no way to recover my lost reputation. However, there is a way to satisfy my inner rage."
Then—
his tone dropped.
Flat. Cold.
"So now it's plain and simple."
He lifted the bat slightly.
"First… I'll send you to the hospital."
A small pause.
"…and then I'll send her too. I promise, I'll make sure to keep you both in the same room so that you can discuss how to take revenge on me."
Kaito made a weird face and let out a small sigh.
"You really went through all that drama just to explain you're a professional liar?"
"And here I was, thinking this was something serious."
Masato's expression hardened, the irritation no longer hidden, though his voice remained steady.
"You talk too much… for someone who's about to get beaten."
And he walked toward Kaito, slow and unhurried, each step carrying a quiet, deliberate intent.
For a brief moment, that strange calculation from earlier flashed back—the way his mind had broken everything down so clearly, almost instinctively.
…Right.
His gaze settled on Masato.
He's the perfect one to try this out. Let's see how my brain handles it…
A quiet pause passed through his thoughts.
He smiled slightly.
I will not rely on my physical strength—only my brain's calculation ability.
Let's see how far this goes
Kaito's eyes sharpened as he glanced at Masato.
"Let's see if that bat has the same strength as your lies."
Masato's face twisted that moment , Something inside him snapped.
"You bastard !!"
His voice ripped through the empty street as he charged forward, shoes scraping against the rough road. The bat rose over his shoulder, both hands locked tight around it, veins standing out along his arms as anger took full control.
He swung.
A sharp horizontal strike tore through the air, fast and heavy, aimed straight at Kaito's head. The sound of it cutting through the silence was violent—raw.
Kaito didn't move.
His eyes locked—not on Masato—on the bat.
In that instant, something inside his mind shifted. The movement broke apart on its own. Angle. Speed. Distance. Impact point. Not numbers. Not thinking. Just… clarity.
A faint invisible line formed in his vision—the path of the strike.
Too wide.
At the last possible moment, Kaito tilted his head slightly. The bat passed his face with a harsh whoosh, close enough for the air pressure to brush against his skin.
Missed.
Masato's eyes widened. "…What—?!"
He forced another swing instantly, twisting his body harder this time, trying to correct himself mid-motion. The bat came again, faster, lower—aiming for Kaito's ribs.
Kaito stepped back once. Not rushed. Measured. His foot landed exactly where it needed to.
Again—air. The bat cut through nothing.
For a split second—Kaito's eyes sharpened.
…So this is how it works.
This time, it came faster. Cleaner. Like his body already understood before he did.
Masato's breathing turned rough, frustration leaking through his clenched teeth. "You think you're smart?!" he snapped. "Stand still and fight me!"
He raised the bat again, grip tightening, anger completely breaking his rhythm—
Masato rushed in again, faster this time, almost stumbling over his own steps as he forced his body forward. The bat came down from above, a heavy vertical strike, driven by pure anger rather than control.
"You're pissing me off!"
The air split as the bat dropped toward Kaito's head.
Kaito's eyes locked onto it again. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just focus.
The movement unfolded inside his mind before it fully happened. The downward force. The delayed recovery. The opening it would leave behind.
Too committed.
Before the bat could land—
Kaito stepped forward.
Not back.
Inside the swing.
The bat dropped past his shoulder, missing completely as the distance collapsed. The force of Masato's own strike pulled him off balance for a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
Kaito's hand moved.
Not fast—precise.
His fingers closed around Masato's wrist mid-motion. Not to overpower—just to stop the direction.
Masato's body jerked.
"…What—?!"
Kaito twisted slightly. A small movement. Barely visible. But it shifted everything.
Masato's footing broke. His weight carried forward with nowhere to go. His shoulder dipped, his stance collapsed—
"—Tch!"
His balance slipped.
Kaito let go at the exact moment.
Masato stumbled past him, barely catching himself before falling, his shoes scraping hard against the ground.
He turned quickly, breathing heavier now, anger mixed with confusion.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Kaito stood still. Calm. Centered.
His eyes didn't leave Masato.
Clear… too clear.
Everything felt… predictable.
Masato gripped the bat tighter, frustration rising faster now. His swings weren't calculated anymore—they were forced.
"…Stop messing around!"
He charged again.
Masato charged again, faster—but sloppier. His breathing was uneven now, shoulders tense, grip too tight. The bat came from the side again, but this time there was no rhythm—just force.
"JUST STAND STILL!!"
The swing cut through the air—wild, desperate.
Kaito watched.
The moment it started—he already knew.
The angle was off. The follow-up would be late. The recovery… open.
There.
He didn't step back this time.
He moved in.
A slight shift to the side—the bat missed by inches again, rushing past his shoulder. The wind brushed against his clothes, but his body was already somewhere else.
Inside.
Too close to swing.
Masato's eyes widened.
Kaito's hand struck.
Not hard—precise.
A sharp hit to Masato's wrist.
CRACK.
Pain shot through his hand instantly. His grip broke—
The bat slipped.
CLANG.
It hit the ground and rolled away, the sound echoing down the empty street.
Masato froze for a second, staring at his own hand like it had betrayed him.
"…My—"
Before he could react—
Kaito stepped forward again.
No hesitation.
His hands slammed hard against the back of Masato's neck.
A clean, controlled strike.
Masato's body locked.
His eyes lost focus.
His legs gave out.
THUD.
He collapsed onto the ground, completely still.
The street went silent again.
Kaito stood there, looking down at him.
No excitement.
No anger.
Just quiet understanding.
"Now i understood how it works".
He glanced down at Masato's unconscious body and let out a slow, tired sigh. His shoulders dropped slightly, the tension from the fight finally leaving his body.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face.
"…What am I supposed to do with him now… damn it."
On the other side—
Around ten in the morning, at Steam University—
A line formed at the entrance gates. Bags hung over shoulders, shoes scraping lightly against the ground. One by one, cards tapped against the scanner—
beep… beep… beep…
and the doors slid open.
Inside, the air shifted.
Voices overlapped near the cafeteria—low, scattered, rising and falling without rhythm. Trays touched tables, chairs dragged slightly, pages flipped, pens tapped against notebooks. The space felt full, almost tight.
Just outside, on the field beside it, a few stood under the open sky—phones raised, brief laughter carried by the air before fading.
Along the first-floor balcony, the wind pushed through without resistance. It brushed against clothes, tugged at loose strands of hair, slipped between passing figures who slowed for just a second near the railing.
Then—
Higher.
The sound didn't follow.
Each floor above held less of it.
Footsteps spaced out.
Voices thinned.
Movement softened.
By the time it reached the seventh floor—
It felt distant.
A corridor stretched long and quiet, broken only by the occasional step… a door opening… then closing again.
A few figures passed by, heading in and out of classrooms.
A figure walked down the corridor.
His footsteps landed hard against the floor—steady, heavy, carrying weight with each step. The sound echoed slightly in the quiet space.
His face held a faint irritation. Not loud—but there. His brows drawn just enough, his jaw set. His shoulders stayed stiff as he moved forward.
Then—
He stopped.
In front of a door.
His gaze lifted slightly.
The wind from the balcony beside it passed through, brushing lightly against him, shifting a few strands of his hair.
Above the door—
707
He looked at it for a second.
Then let out a slow breath.
The tension in his shoulders eased. His expression softened, the tightness fading just a little.
Without another pause—
He pushed the door open.
And stepped inside.
Inside, the classroom didn't feel in use.
A layer of dust covered everything, dulling the whiteboard at the front and the projector above. The air felt still, untouched. Chairs with small foldable writing boards were scattered out of place—some tilted, some pushed aside, their legs scraped and worn. A few looked barely usable.
The tables were cracked, edges rough, surfaces marked and neglected.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes locked onto the one seated ahead. The man didn't move, didn't speak, just sat there calmly with a sharp, steady gaze already fixed on him, as if he had been waiting for the door to open. For a brief second, his own steps felt heavier. Not fear—just the sudden awareness that there were too many people in the room for this to be casual.
His eyes moved across the classroom. At the far corner, someone sat slightly bent over a laptop, the screen lighting half his face as his fingers moved across the keyboard with quiet focus, like whatever he was doing mattered more than the person who had just entered. Another leaned against a desk, staring straight at him without blinking. One lay back in a chair, loose and still, almost asleep—or pretending to be. Near the wall, someone stood smoking, the thin line of smoke rising slowly into the stale air.
Nothing in the room felt random. Every person seemed settled into a place that already meant something. The silence wasn't empty; it felt arranged, controlled. His gaze slowly returned to the man seated ahead, still watching him with the same unreadable calm. A thought crossed his mind, low and uneasy.
…Why did he call me all of a sudden?
The guy leaned forward, still gazing at him. He spoke in a relaxed, deep tone. His eyes were sharp, a dragon tattoo ran along his neck, and rings rested on his fingers.
"You already knew why I called you here, Toshiro."
Toshiro stayed calm and relaxed, but something in his mind felt irritating. He replied with confidence—
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ryuji."
Ryuji stood up and slid his hands into his pockets, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Toshiro with quiet confidence.
"You're good at pretending… no wonder you're the student council president."
He turned to the left and started walking, slow, deliberate. Each step landed with a dull weight, echoing softly in the quiet room.
"Last night, a video was uploaded," he said, voice low, almost casual. "On the university group… about Masato."
He shifted his gaze slightly.
"Do you know anything about it?"
Toshiro didn't look away.
His posture stayed steady, eyes locked onto him—but for a brief second, something wavered beneath it.
"I don't know anything about the video."
His voice was firm.
…but just slightly delayed.
A faint hesitation—small enough to miss, but there.
A small smile formed.
"...As expected."
He turned back.
This time, his gaze sharpened.
"The video says Masato was behind the police incident… that he deliberately framed that boy."
A brief pause.
"But as far as I know—"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Masato is smart."
Another step forward.
"Clever."
A small pause.
"But not that sharp."
His voice dropped, colder now.
"Not enough to pull something like that on his own."
He continued, with low voice
"I'll keep it simple. If that video keeps spreading… people won't just mock Masato."
His gaze hardened.
"They'll mock us too… and the fear of the Night Raiders—"
A brief pause.
"Will disappear."
"And as the leader of the night raider i don't want that to happen"
He looked straight ahead.
"So your job is simple. Take that video down."
Toshiro looked at him, surprised.
"How do you expect me to take down the video?" he said. "And not just that—the video's already been posted on multiple pages last night and has massive views."
A slight pause.
"How do you expect me to take something like that down?"
Ryuji smiled and continued, his tone carrying a hint of amusement—
"The same way you became the student council president."
Toshiro's hands started trembling.
He was completely in shock, but he still held onto his confidence.
"…What do you mean?"
Ryuji let out a quiet chuckle, the amusement not quite reaching his eyes.
"Didn't you just say… you don't know anything about the video?"
A slight tilt of his head.
"Then how do you know it's already spread across multiple pages… pulling that many views?"
Toshiro didn't answer.
For a moment, his eyes stayed locked—but something shifted.
His fingers tightened slightly at his side. His breathing paused—just for a second—before settling again.
The confidence on his face didn't break.
But it didn't feel the same anymore.
Ryuji watched him.
Without blinking.
"…So tell me—"
His voice dropped.
"Are you behind it?"
A brief pause.
"Trying to push us out… so you can take control of the university?"
Toshiro's gaze hardened.
For a brief moment, it held—steady, unbreaking.
But beneath it, something shifted.
His fingers curled slightly, the tension building quietly inside him. The tremble didn't reach his face—he didn't let it.
He stayed still.
Calm.
Watching.
Ryuji didn't speak.
He just looked at him—
Waiting.
Then Ryuji suddenly let out a low chuckle, his tone turning casual.
"I was just joking… why so serious?"
A faint smile appeared on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Anyway… make sure the video is removed from online."
His gaze hardened again.
Sharp.
Cold.
"And make sure to turn the blame on Kaito."
A slight pause.
"The next rumour…"
His voice dropped just a little.
"…should sound like Kaito and that girl are the ones who framed Masato."
Toshiro didn't say a word.
He just gave a slight nod.
Toshiro turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps breaking the silence—tap… tap… tap…—each one echoing a little too clearly in the still room. He reached the handle and pulled it open.
For a split second—
Nothing.
Then—
Ryuji's voice came from behind.
Low.
Close.
"If your attempt fails tonight…"
Toshiro froze.
A brief pause.
"By tomorrow morning…"
"…there will be a new student council president."
Toshiro didn't look back.
He stepped out of the room and walked away.
Ryuji stood still, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling, his tone casual—almost careless.
"I'm counting on you, Haruto…"
A brief pause.
"…take care of the situation ."
Haruto stood up and smirked.
"I've already put my plans in motion. Don't worry."
He turned his head toward the one using the laptop.
"Any update on Masato, Daichi?"
Daichi stayed focused on the screen, fingers still moving across the keyboard. He didn't look at them.
"I called a few times… he didn't pick up."
A brief pause.
Then his eyes shifted slightly toward Haruto.
"But there's something strange."
He finally glanced up.
"His phone location is showing… at a hospital."
The moment those words left his mouth, something shifted in the room. It wasn't loud—but it was there. A slight change in expressions, a pause in breathing, eyes sharpening, attention pulling inward. The air felt heavier.
Haruto and ryuji didn't react as if they were expecting that .
From the corner, the one leaning against the wall took a slow drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing faintly before dimming again. Smoke slipped out of his mouth as he spoke—
"I knew it…"
His tone stayed casual. Too casual.
"It's that girl. She's trying to wipe us out of this place."
Ryuji didn't respond immediately. His face remained still, eyes steady, unreadable. Then—
"No."
A small pause.
"I don't think so."
His gaze shifted slightly across the room.
"If she wanted us gone… she wouldn't start with Masato."
Another pause.
"She would've come for me."
"Or Haruto."
"Or Daichi."
Ryuji didn't react immediately. His face stayed still, unreadable, as if he was already thinking ahead.
Then he spoke.
"Daichi…"
A brief pause.
"Find out where Masato is."
His gaze shifted slowly across the room, then stopped.
On Haruto.
"Bring me the boy… and the girl."
His tone didn't rise.
But it carried weight.
"Immediately."
A small silence followed.
Then—
his eyes narrowed just slightly.
"I'll hear her reason…"
A faint pause.
"…from her own mouth."
The classroom door opened, and students began stepping out, their voices spilling into the corridor. Kaito came out with them, but for a moment, he stayed where he was, letting the crowd pass around him, shoulders brushing past as they moved away into the hallway. He didn't follow.
His gaze shifted—not toward the corridor, but to the open side beside the door.
After a few quiet, unhurried steps, he moved toward the balcony and stopped near the edge.
The wind hit him instantly.
Strong. Steady.
It ran through his hair, pushing it back as it passed. He didn't move, just stood there, letting it flow over him, the rhythm of it settling in.
Then—
another presence came beside him.
Nagato stepped up without a word, stopping right next to him. The same wind met him, brushing through his hair, pressing lightly against his clothes.
For a moment—
neither of them spoke.
Kaito rested his hands on the balcony rail, his gaze lowered, watching the faint movement of his fingers against the surface.
"Rumors spread really fast… right?"
Nagato didn't look at him.
His eyes stayed on the sky, following the slow drift of clouds as they moved across the open space.
"Yesterday, everyone was staring at you…"
A small pause.
"And today—it's completely different."
The wind passed between them again.
Nagato's gaze remained steady.
"It's weird," he continued quietly.
"How fast peoples mind changes… justl because of rumors."
Footsteps tapped along the pavement, overlapping as people passed by without pause. Cars moved steadily on the road beside them, engines humming, tires rolling as the sound rose and faded with distance.
Kaito and Nagato walked along the footpath, side by side, their pace even. People brushed past them, coming and going, their presence barely lasting a second.
Kaito kept his eyes on the road ahead, hands in his pockets, voice casual.
"By the way… who even took that video and uploaded it?"
He glanced at Nagato, a slight confusion in his eyes.
Nagato didn't answer immediately. A faint grin formed instead.
"Maybe…" he said slowly, "that girlfriend of yours did it."
Kaito stopped for half a second, then shoved him lightly.
"Come on, dude."
A faint smile slipped onto his face.
Nagato let out a quiet laugh, stepping back into pace. Their shoulders brushed once as they walked, the moment feeling lighter.
Then—
A soft rustle came from the side.
Near the tree beside the footpath.
Kaito's attention shifted first.
His steps slowed.
From the base of the tree, something small moved through the leaves and stepped out onto the path.
A cat.
It stopped a few steps in front of him.
Lifted its head—
And looked straight at Kaito.
"Meow."