The day stretched endlessly. Word traveled fast—students whispering in halls, peeking into our classroom, giving me sideways glances.
As the final bell rang, I walked to the back of the school. My heart thumped with every step. Wondering at the back of my head: "What was I thinking taking a fight with Kaito?"
But I was already resolved in my thinking. I knew he is going to beat me up, but I was determine not to go down without a fight. Fear was already gripped me. I was not going to ask Ren for help. This was my fight.
As I approached the back of the school, I was greeted by noise. It was already crowded. A ring of students formed a loose circle by the utility shed. Phones were out, recording, whispering.
"Is he really gonna fight Kaito?" "Does Haruki even stand a chance?" "I heard Kaito broke a guy's ribs last year."
I stepped into the circle, feeling the weight of eyes on me. I knew it was already too late to back out at this moment. I was not about to turn tail. Looking at Kaito looming above. His shadow casting over the others, and the smirk on his face, told me he knew enough I was too stupid to show up.
Kaito was waiting, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"You came. Brave. Stupid, but brave," he said softly. He said flexing his tattooed arms.
"I keep my word," I replied, voice firm. But inside shaking.
He took a step forward. I steadied my breath, fists loose but ready. I hesitate and took a step back. Reading his moves.
The crowd hushed. The only sound were our feet shuffling, the sound of the other students who were not interested in this bickering and the slow sound of the fainted train passing in the distance.
Then, he moved.
I tried to dodge. His fist slammed into my shoulder, knocking me back. Pain sparked through my body. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to cry out.
I managed to land a weak punch—barely grazing his ribs—but he grinned and shoved me hard, sending me stumbling to the dirt.
He raised his foot, aiming to kick again, but I rolled away, pulling myself up, cheeks stinging, a bruise blooming on my face.
"Still standing?" he taunted, eyes cold.
"Yeah," I said through gritted teeth. "Because I'm not afraid of you."
Just as he lunged again—Ren crashed into him from the side. It was unexpected.
"Enough!" Ren shouted, voice commanding.
Kaito swung back, catching Ren in the stomach. Ren dropped to one knee, coughing.
Sora and Riku jumped in, trying to pull Kaito off, but he shrugged them off like flies.
Gasps and cheers erupted around us.
"Stop this now! "a voice rang out, clear as glass.
Ayame.
She pushed through the crowd, standing between us, her face flushed with anger and concern.
"What is wrong with all of you?!" she shouted, voice ringing through the tense silence.
Everyone went still.
She turned to Kaito. "You think hurting others makes you powerful? It just makes you pathetic. Pick on someone for how they look? Is that all you're capable of?"
He blinked, surprised by her fire. He was about to retort back and it seemed for a moment he thought better of it. And turned his fiery eyes towards me and Ren. And looked around.
Then she turned to me—kneeling now, catching my breath.
"Haruki... you're reckless. And stubborn. What were you thinking picking up the fight with Kaito? Even knowing you could lose. I should call it brave, but I think I should stick to Stupid."
My throat tightened, tears threatening to spill.
Kaito scoffed, spat on the dirt, and said: "This is not Over, Haruki!" turned and walked off.
Ayame knelt beside me, her hand gentle on my shoulder. Ren groaned as Sora helped him to his feet.
"You're insane," Ren muttered, eyes wide. "But you've got guts."
I looked at Ayame. She smiled—warm, worried, and something else I couldn't quite name. I felt ashamed.
And I felt something shift inside me. The weight of everyone's eyes, the echo of my own heartbeat. The pain in my chest.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start changing everything.
That morning, the halls of River Valley High felt different. The buzz of lockers slamming and students greeting each other was underscored by low whispers that followed me as I passed.
"There he is—still got that bruise on his face." "Did you see how many times Kaito hit him?" "I heard someone recorded it all. Crazy, right?"
I kept my head down, adjusting the sleeve of my blazer to cover the swelling on my forearm. In class, classmates exchanged glances, some offering sympathetic smiles, others gawking like spectators at a show. Ren dropped into the desk beside me.
"People are talking," he said quietly. "Some say Kaito's king of the school now."
"Let them talk," I muttered, eyes on my notebook.
By second period, the murmurs in the air had twisted into something heavier.
"Did you hear about Ayato?"
"Yeah. Gone. Switched schools last night."
"His family moved?"
"No, it's the Phenomenon thing. He was... changed."
Ayato-san—formerly known to us as a quiet, sharp-eyed boy from 2-C—was suddenly at the center of a whisper storm. He had always kept to himself, often found sketching manga in the back of the class or helping teachers with errands. Now, his desk behind my desk, sat empty.
Some said he went home after school last Friday and came back different. A girl.
Others claimed his family couldn't handle the truth and transferred him to a school outside the prefecture.
"My cousin's in his cram school," a girl from 2-A whispered during break. "They said he just stopped showing up. His mom cried when she came to pick up his things."
"So it's true?" another boy asked. "He changed? Just like that?"
"That's what the Ratio does, doesn't it? When the population balance tips..."
I overheard Ren sighing near the lockers. "It's not a disease, you know."
The other student scoffed. "Whatever. It's weird. Freaky. Like, what if it spreads?"
That one word—"spreads"—hit like an ice cube down the spine.
That was the problem. People didn't know what to believe.
It was like when people first started talking about AIDS decades ago—full of rumors, misinformation, and fear. They said the Ratio Phenomenon wasn't contagious. Scientists had confirmed it, claimed it was genetic, dormant in all of us, activated by forces no one understood. Something about survival, a correction.
"I heard once it happens, your whole body just shifts," a first-year whispered in the hallway. "One of the changed woke up crying because she didn't know her own face."
"Someone said their voice changed over a weekend. Their school photos are different now."
"My brother says the government's covering it up—that it's some kind of secret vaccine trial gone wrong."
"My mom said we're not allowed to talk to anyone who's turned. Says it could mess with your head."
During lunch, the cafeteria felt tenser than usual. Sora glanced over her shoulder before leaning in.
"Haruki-kun, what would you do if it happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know," she whispered. "If you woke up and were... different. Girl-you."
I blinked. "I don't know. I wouldn't let anyone find out, I guess."
Ren looked up from his sandwich. "It's not like anyone chooses it."
"Yeah, but imagine," Riku added, "Your whole life flipped. Your body. Voice. Clothes. Even the way people talk to you."
"I'd move to the mountains and become a monk," Sora said, half-joking, half-nervous.
I didn't answer. The thought clung to me like humidity. What if it did happen? What would I do? Would I still be me?
The October Dance Festival came up again between bites of curry bread. The Student Council had posted new audition dates. It was meant to be fun, a celebration—but under all the decorations and posters, something felt off. A tension under the surface. Like everyone was holding their breath, waiting.
I caught Ayato's empty seat again on my way back to class.
Was he scared when it happened?
Was he still Ayato, somewhere?
Or had they erased him, like a ghost in a story no one wanted to admit was real?
I turned and returned back to class.