The memories were like film reels spinning in an old projector—previous scenes looping and surfacing in Yukio's mind.
He still remembered how Chairman Sakayanagi had been there back then, calm and unhurried in his office, going head-to-head with Atsuomi Ayanokouji without flinching… and yet just two months later, he'd been temporarily removed for an investigation.
That day in the office, Atsuomi—trying to threaten Ayanokouji into leaving with him—had said something like this:
The butler Matsuo, who helped Ayanokouji escape the White Room, and Matsuo's daughter, were driven into a corner by Atsuomi Ayanokouji… until, with nowhere left to run, the two of them ultimately hanged themselves.
Matsuo.
That was probably when he'd first heard that surname.
And if he connected it to what was right in front of him—Nanase's hatred toward Ayanokouji, so intense it even twisted her strong sense of justice—then it made sense.
She probably witnessed the horrifying scene of her best friend—Matsuo the butler's daughter—dying like that with her own eyes.
That was why a girl so full of justice would agree to Tsukishiro's plan: a small group of first-years working together to expel Ayanokouji.
In her eyes, this was revenge for her friend.
If that was the case, then logically speaking, Yukio ended up with a very simple question—simple, but potentially fatal to Nanase:
"But if you want revenge… why are you going after Ayanokouji?"
Nanase wore an expression like Senpai, what the hell are you even talking about? She bared her teeth with a vicious little-cute aura, biting down hard.
"I-I already told you, didn't I? Because he killed my best friend!"
"I'm not trying to rip open your wound on purpose." Yukio read that from her little expression and flatly denied it before walking her through the logic. "You said your friend was killed because of Ayanokouji."
"Then do you know the details?"
"Of course I know!" When it came to her closest friend's death, how could Nanase not know? She suddenly got impulsive, losing the strict, by-the-book tone she'd had when she tried to stop Housen earlier. "Because—because that disgusting Ayanokouji!"
"He escaped from the whi—" Nanase cut herself off mid-word. "Yukio-senpai, I can't say that part. Anyway, it was Ayanokouji leaving a place. And because Matsuo-nee's father helped Ayanokouji… Matsuo-nee and her father were forced into a corner and ended up taking their own lives!"
Just thinking about it—just remembering that day, opening the door and seeing Matsuo-nee hanging there—made Nanase feel like an invisible hand was crushing her heart.
Her breathing turned tight and jagged, her chest suffocating.
That kind of unspeakable pain… that scene of her best friend dangling right there in front of her… every time she replayed it, she couldn't stop herself from hating Ayanokouji all over again.
White Room—that was something Director Tsukishiro, the one who'd pulled strings and opened the back door to get her into ANHS, had told her about.
If Ayanokouji hadn't escaped the White Room, Matsuo-nee wouldn't have been dragged into it.
So she wanted revenge. She wanted Ayanokouji expelled and sent back to that weird White Room!
"Then isn't the problem obvious?" This was exactly what Yukio wanted to point out—the most fatal flaw in Nanase's revenge, and honestly the funniest part to him. "Your friend, and your friend's father—were they driven to suicide by Ayanokouji?"
"Or were they driven to suicide by someone other than Ayanokouji—like the people from that place you can't talk about?"
Yukio's logic question was like a beam of light cutting through the night—splitting pitch-black darkness and letting the girl catch the track of something bright.
Nanase, who'd been trapped in a whirlpool of hatred for a full year—bottling it up for a full year—seemed to have the blindfold ripped off by his single, airy sentence.
And there it was: a blood-soaked truth.
Her best friend Matsuo-nee, and Matsuo-nee's father, were forced to die by the people from the White Room… or more specifically, by the people trying to drag Ayanokouji back.
From beginning to end, the whole thing might have some connection to Ayanokouji… but revenge isn't supposed to be random. Payback has an address.
The mastermind, the true culprit—without question—was Atsuomi Ayanokouji.
"Get it now?" Yukio took one look and knew the girl's brain had finally clicked.
He couldn't help grumbling inwardly.
All that seriousness, all that hatred… and you couldn't even figure out who your real enemy was? You got dragged into ANHS for some revenge game like a clueless idiot?
Even someone like him—a bystander who'd heard this for less than a minute—could judge who the real killer was and who she should be taking revenge on.
But Nanase? She looked like a smart kid, and yet… seriously? You couldn't even untangle logic this simple? Was this a joke?
"H-How… how can that be…" Nanase's face went dead pale. She even stumbled back several steps on instinct, visibly becoming fragile.
It was like she went from a three-dimensional person to getting hit by a two-dimensional foil strike, flattened into a paper-thin plane—like a light breeze could blow her away.
Like… you spent a whole year hating someone, only to suddenly realize he wasn't the perpetrator at all.
At most, he was just someone connected to it. The person she truly should've hated was right there all along—and she never saw it.
Worse—she'd been tricked by the real enemy's subordinate and sent into ANHS, a place she couldn't even leave for three years! Let alone keep pursuing revenge!
That sudden reversal—like her entire life had been controlled and toyed with—left Nanase swaying on the verge of collapse, her worldview shattering into a ridiculous, broken expression.
Yeah… no wonder Yukio-senpai asked if I understood.
Looking at it now, wasn't she just a living, breathing clown?
The kind of clown who'd been coaxed and fooled into painting on grotesque makeup, strapping on a big red nose, and getting shoved onto the stage again—while the audience laughed at her and she didn't even realize it.
Swaying… swaying…
Once Nanase realized who the real enemy was, she became like someone who'd downed a bottle of fake booze—unconsciously stumbling backward step after step, sometimes staggering three times in a single pace.
One wrong move and she could've toppled over backward.
Luckily, she seemed trained—her base was steady. Even while retreating like that on instinct, she didn't fall. Not until her back hit the corridor wall.
Then she slid down it, ending up sitting in a duck-sit posture—thighs and knees turned inward, feet splayed outward—silent tears streaming down both cheeks.
All anyone could hear was her unconscious whispering, over and over:
"Why…? Why did I enter ANHS? Why did I hate Ayanokouji-senpai? Why didn't I think of this earlier…?"
"…" Yukio was sure now—Nanase wasn't from the White Room. He could tell this grief wasn't acting.
Meaning she'd simply been played by Tsukishiro and dragged in. Originally, she should've just been some middle school student out in the normal world, with absolutely nothing to do with the White Room.
Tsukishiro—setting up White Room schemes, tricking Nanase into enrolling at ANHS… what the hell was he after?
Seeing Nanase still crying unconsciously, Yukio wanted to laugh, but he had to hold it in. He wanted to pry out Tsukishiro's purpose, so he spoke up:
"Quit wailing."
"If some classmate who doesn't know what's going on sees this, they'll think I did something to you."
"Find the right enemy, prepare, and look for your chance to hit back. That's it. What's crying gonna do?"
....
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