The classroom door slammed open with a sharp bang, shattering the morning's tranquil buzz.
"Those damn Class C punks again!"Sudō stomped in, his shoes squeaking against the polished floor as everyone turned to stare. His face was red, not from embarrassment but from pure anger barely held in check.
Horikita barely lifted her head from her notebook."Sudō-kun," she said evenly, "please calm down before you break something."
"I am calm!" he barked back, which of course meant the opposite. "They've been tailing me since yesterday. Calling my names, bumping into me, just trying to piss me off. I swear, they're begging me to throw a punch."
Ayanokōji, who had been watching quietly from his seat, glanced at me — Soshi Miyamoto — seated near the window. I shrugged lightly, an unspoken here we go again.
Horikita closed her notebook with a deliberate thud, her eyes sharp."What did I tell you, Sudō-kun? No violence. No matter what they do, you cannot afford to give them what they want."
He gritted his teeth but nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You already said that. Even if they throw the first punch, I'll just take it."
That was new.A few months ago, the same boy would've swung first and asked questions never. But now, his fists were clenched in restraint, not rage.
A small smile curved at the corner of Horikita's lips. "Good. It seems you really have grown."
"Don't say it like I'm some kid," Sudō muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don't wanna screw things up for the class again."
Horikita said nothing for a while, her pen scratching faintly as she made notes in the margin of her open notebook. Ayanokōji watched her, thoughtful as ever, then leaned closer slightly.
"You seem busy, Horikita. What are you writing?"
Without looking up, she snapped the book closed."Nothing you need to see."
That small, quiet motion said everything. She had been planning something — maybe another strategy, maybe just notes on everyone's progress — but she didn't want him to peek. The gap between them, once thin and unspoken, had quietly widened.
Ayanokōji leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. She's growing more independent, he thought. That's good… isn't it?
A Subtle Unease
After the small commotion settled, Horikita addressed the room with her typical composure."Ryuuen's been moving again," she said. "The timing is odd. There's no special exam right now, yet he's stirring up conflict."
Ayanokōji nodded faintly. "He's doing what he always does — provoking chaos. But this time feels… different."
Horikita tilted her head. "Different how?"
"Because he's not just targeting random students. Miyake told me that some of his pawns were tailing him too. Komiya and another one." He glanced at me. "They've been watching people connected to our group."
Horikita crossed her arms, her expression tightening. "So he's narrowing it down."
"Exactly," I added. "And he's probably doing it to find whoever he thinks is the 'mastermind' behind Class D."
Sudō, who had been sitting at the back, groaned. "That psycho again? What's he even after this time?"
"The same thing as always," Ayanokōji replied simply. "Control."
The word hung heavy in the air.
Horikita nodded slightly, eyes half-lidded in thought. "It makes sense. But this time, I can't be your shield anymore, Ayanokōji-kun. He's lost interest in me."
Her words caught him off guard. He blinked. "You sound disappointed. Do you… miss his attention?"
She shot him a sharp glare. "Say that again and I'll kick you."
I laughed softly. "You two sound like an old married couple."
"Don't make me add you to the list, Miyamoto," Horikita said dryly without missing a beat.
I raised both hands in surrender, though my grin remained.
Threads of Memory and Caution
The talk drifted naturally into Ryuuen's older tactics — the rooftop incident, the intimidation, the mind games. Horikita tapped her pen thoughtfully."You know what's strange?" she said. "No one from Class C dropped out after the Paper Shuffle Exam."
Ayanokōji frowned. "True. Even though their performance dropped drastically."
"It's likely the smarter ones helped the weaker students in secret," she reasoned. "Or maybe Ryuuen used his private points to cover their scores."
"Or both," I said. "He's not the type to value fairness, just results."
Horikita nodded. "Still, it's peculiar. He thrives on chaos but somehow keeps his class intact. It's like he's trying to prove something."
"Maybe he's trying to draw out the person pulling our strings," Ayanokōji muttered under his breath.
She caught that. "Then you should be careful, Ayanokōji-kun. It's no longer a matter of if he'll find you but when."
He didn't respond immediately. His eyes were calm, but a faint chill ran through them — the kind that hinted he'd already accepted the possibility.
"I'm aware," he said finally.
Horikita softened slightly, the slightest crease of concern forming between her brows. "Then allow me to help. I can act as a decoy if it comes to that."
That made him look up. "You're… okay with that?"
"If it helps the class, then yes. You've done enough from the shadows. It's time I pull my own weight."
For once, her tone carried no pride — only conviction.Ayanokōji's gaze lingered on her. "You really have changed."
"Don't sound so surprised."
He smirked faintly. "Just making an observation."
Quiet Reflections
After class ended, the three of us — Horikita, Ayanokōji, and I — walked down the corridor together. The sunlight pouring in through the windows made the polished floors glow with winter's faint gold.
Horikita carried her notebook close to her chest, as if guarding some invisible secret.Ayanokōji spoke first. "You seem more distant lately."
She blinked, not expecting the comment. "Distant?"
"You're not asking for my advice as much. You're making plans on your own."
"I thought that was the point," she said evenly. "You wanted me to grow, didn't you?"
"I did," he said quietly. "But it's strange seeing it happen."
I glanced between them, amused. "You sound like a father watching his kid move out."
Horikita sighed. "Can you not make it weird?"
"Sorry, sorry," I said, laughing. "But seriously, it's a good thing. You're stronger now."
Her expression softened just slightly. "...Thank you."
We reached the stairwell where the hall split toward the dorms. The silence between us stretched, filled only by the hum of the heater and faint chatter from nearby classrooms.
"By the way," Horikita said suddenly, "why do you still hang around with Miyamoto's group so much, Ayanokōji-kun? The exams are over. You could rest."
He shrugged. "Because I'm comfortable with them."
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Comfortable, huh…"
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but decided against it. She turned instead toward the stairs. "Just don't let your guard down."
He nodded once. "I won't."
A Fragile Balance
Later that evening, I found Ayanokōji in the dorm's study lounge. The place was quiet, the kind of stillness that only winter nights could bring. He was reading — or pretending to — a thin, old paperback. The light cast a long shadow across the table.
"Still thinking about Ryuuen?" I asked, sitting across from him.
He didn't deny it. "He's getting too close."
"He's obsessed," I replied. "But even obsessions fade if you starve them."
"Not his," he said simply. "He'll corner me sooner or later."
I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "Then I'll help. If he tries anything, I'll be there."
He glanced at me, a hint of genuine gratitude passing through his normally blank eyes."Thanks. But I can handle it."
"I know," I said. "Doesn't mean you have to handle it alone."
He didn't respond, but his silence said enough.