It was a rainy afternoon at Shirokuma High. Students shuffled into classrooms, umbrellas dripping water onto the polished floors. Hiragi walked calmly down the hall, his coat barely stirring in the breeze from the open windows. Something in the air felt… off.
Reports had come in: several students and teachers had experienced unusual "accidents" during the day. Not dangerous, just strange: lockers jammed, papers swapped, minor pranks that seemed coordinated. Nothing severe, but enough to unsettle everyone.
Hiragi adjusted his hat and approached the courtyard, where three students were waiting—apparently called to the principal's office:
Ren, a tech-savvy student who always tinkered with gadgets. Airi, a diligent student council member, organized but often stressed. Souta, a quiet boy who usually stayed in the background.
Hiragi started casual conversation first, blending observation with questions. "You three noticed anything… unusual today?"
Ren shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Just some lockers acting weird… maybe a glitch?"
Airi frowned. "I thought it was just a prank. But it felt too… calculated."
Souta shook his head. "I didn't notice much."
Hiragi smiled faintly. "The details you notice, even the ones you ignore, matter more than you think."
He walked through the courtyard, retracing the sequence of minor incidents. Papers swapped between classes, lockers jammed, and a book left open in the library—all seemingly unrelated. Yet Hiragi spotted a subtle pattern: the timing, locations, and types of disturbances formed a sequence, like a test.
Later, he gathered the three students in a quiet room. He laid out the observations naturally: "Notice how each incident happened in a predictable order. The prankster wanted someone to notice, but not too quickly. It's a trial—watching reactions, measuring awareness, testing patience."
Ren's eyes widened. "You mean… someone planned all this?"
Airi glanced nervously at Souta, who said nothing, his expression calm but unreadable.
Hiragi examined subtle clues: a small smudge on a notebook, faint ink traces on a window sill, and a tiny, misplaced object in the corner. Each hinted at someone familiar with the routines of both students and staff.
"And the mastermind?" Ren asked.
Hiragi's gaze softened but remained sharp. "Someone is still observing from the shadows. They aren't careless—they manipulate without leaving obvious marks. The trial is hidden, but the pattern exists. Watch closely, and you'll see it."
By the end of the day, the rain had stopped, and students returned home, tired and uneasy. The subtle disturbances continued in whispers and glances. Hiragi stood alone in the empty courtyard, looking at the damp ground.
"The game is quiet," he murmured, "but every shadow leaves a trace, no matter how small. And in every trial, the truth waits for those patient enough to see it."