The last bell echoed faintly through the corridors. The warm orange of sunset stretched across the empty school grounds, filling the hallways with that soft, bittersweet light that marks the end of the day.
Detention had finally ended.
The room smelled faintly of chalk dust and cheap sanitizer. Yui was stuffing her books into her bag when Haruto stood up from his desk, shoving his phone into his pocket.
"Haruto," she called, her voice uncertain, almost small.
He paused at the doorway and turned slightly, that unreadable smirk ghosting over his lips.
"Why do you keep doing this?" she asked quietly, eyes fixed on the floor. "You act like you don't care, but then—"
He stepped closer. She flinched, not from fear, but from the quiet, magnetic weight of his presence.
Without a word, Haruto reached forward and brushed a stray of hair from her face. The movement was slow, deliberate — his fingertips grazing her temple.
"Later," he murmured, voice low. Then he was gone — footsteps fading down the corridor.
Yui stood still for a moment, heart fluttering between confusion and something dangerously close to anticipation.
"Yui!"
She turned to see a classmate, hurrying toward her. "Watanabe Sensei is looking for you — said it's important. She's in the lab."
"Oh—okay." Yui nodded, setting her bag back on her desk. "Thanks."
She headed down the hall toward the science wing. The building was eerily quiet now; most students had already gone home. The silence pressed against her ears, only her own footsteps echoing softly.
When she reached the lab, the lights were dim. The faint smell of chemicals and dust lingered in the air.
She knocked once. "Sensei?"
No response.
Pushing the door open slightly, she stepped inside. "Hello? You wanted to see me—"
The sound of the door slamming shut behind her cut her off.
She whirled around — and froze.
Yuki stood there, her back against the door, eyes sharp and glinting in the half-light.
"Having fun," Yuki said, voice dripping venom, "running Kuroya around your fingers?"
"Yuki—what are you talking about?" Yui frowned, taking a small step back.
"Oh, don't play innocent." Yuki's laugh was short, brittle. "You think everyone can't see it? His skipping class, breaking rules, fighting—since when does Haruto Kuroya care about anyone?"
Yui shook her head, confusion turning to frustration. "I never asked him to do any of that!"
"But he did," Yuki snapped. Her fingers tightened around the door handle — then she twisted the lock with a sharp click.
Yui's stomach dropped."Yuki, open the door."
"Let's see," Yuki murmured, ignoring her. "How it feels to be the one left behind for once."
She turned on her heel and walked out through the side hallway, the sound of her heels fading away, leaving Yui alone.
"Yuki!" Yui banged on the door, panic rising. "Open it! Please!"
Silence.
She reached for her pocket — but then realized, with horror, that her phone was still in her bag back in the classroom.
The lights flickered. The sun was almost gone, and the lab dipped into shadow.
"M-mom," she whispered, hugging herself. Her breath came out shaky as she leaned back against the counter, trying to steady her heartbeat.
Outside, the school grounds were empty. The wind rustled through the trees, faint and lonely.
Hotel Vigtra.
The lobby was a wash of gold and glass — a place where secrets traded hands behind polite smiles. Haruto leaned against the elevator wall, his reflection multiplying in the mirrored panels. His phone buzzed once. He ignored it.
When the doors slid open, Izumi was already waiting in the corridor.
She looked perfect — as always. Silk dress, red lips, eyes too bright to be real.
"Haruto," she greeted, a nervous laugh escaping her. "It's been… a while."
"Mm." He brushed past her into the room. "Still chasing spotlights?"
She closed the door, lips tightening. "You know how this world works. Either you stay visible, or you vanish."
He smirked, setting his jacket aside. "You always did love the attention."
Izumi crossed her arms, frowning slightly. "And you always loved pretending you didn't."
Their conversation fell into the kind of silence that wasn't awkward — just heavy. Familiar. The silence of two people who had once known each other too well.
They talked. The words between them were half accusations, half nostalgia — old wounds reopened with every sentence. Then the room filled with what they enjoyed doing together,
Izumi slides into the blanket, her gaze downcast. "You're cruel," she said finally, her voice almost breaking. "You always were."
Haruto leaned against the window, looking out at the city lights. "And you always mistake cruelty for honesty."
She looked up sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He turned, meeting her eyes. "The Kato. They're planning your downfall. You dated one of their sons last summer, right?"
Her face went pale. "H-how do you—"
"They have videos, Izumi." His tone was flat, detached, as if he were talking about the weather. "They're going to release them. Slowly. To break your reputation."
She rose to her feet, panic flashing across her face. "No—no, that can't—Haruto, you have to help me!"
In one swift motion, Haruto reached out, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her close. The move was harsh, but his voice was calm — almost soft.
"That's why I say—" he murmured, lips close to her ear, "have some faith in your talent. Instead of selling yourself to anyone who promises you a shortcut."
Izumi's breath hitched. She met his eyes, trembling — but she could see it now. That smirk, that shadow in his expression. He wasn't angry. He was disappointed.
Before she could respond, his phone rang.
The screen flashed with an unknown number.
Haruto answered without thinking. "Who is this?"
A man's voice came through — smooth, mocking. "Your brother, Riku… he's allergic to peanuts, right? I didn't know. Oops. I fed him."
Haruto's eyes went sharp, all trace of indifference gone. "What?"
"If he doesn't get his medicine in thirty minutes…" the voice trailed off into laughter. "Well, you know what happens."
Then — click.
The call ended.
A moment later, another message popped up.A photo.
Yui — unconscious, tied up in what looked like a basement.And beneath it, a single line:
"Who are you gonna save first?"
The air in the room shifted.
Izumi froze, her hands clasped over her mouth. "Oh my god… Haruto—"
He was already moving. He tried calling Yui. Once. Twice. No answer.
The call went to voicemail.
"Pick up, damn it," he muttered under his breath, his hand tightening around the phone.
Another text came in.
"Tick tock."
Haruto's expression hardened — that faint, chilling calm returning like armor sliding into place. He slipped his jacket on, movements precise, deliberate.
He was halfway to the door when something cracked behind him.
He turned—too late.
The vase shattered against the side of his head. The sound was sharp, the world tilting for a split second before he steadied himself, blood trickling from his temple.
Izumi stood trembling, the shards of porcelain at her feet.
"Sorry," she whispered, voice breaking. "I need to protect myself."
Haruto blinked, dazed, but even then — even bleeding — his lips curved into that familiar, dangerous smirk.
"You should've run when you had the chance."
Her breath caught — half fear, half realization.
The city lights outside flickered once.And the world seemed to hold its breath.