The foyer still smelled of burnt leather and scorched flesh. Even though the iron chair had sunk back into the floor and the curtains had curled away, the memory of Haruto's screams clung to the walls like smoke.
No one spoke. No one dared to breathe too loud. The blackboard still bore his name, chalked in neat strokes by an unseen hand. Haruto Sato — Expelled. Two words that felt heavier than a coffin lid.
Sayaka snapped first. She punched the wall, again and again, until cracks split the plaster and blood smeared across her knuckles. "We just let him die! We let them kill him!" Her voice shook, raw and ragged, until it cracked into something closer to a sob. She staggered back, clutching her fist like she wanted to tear the world apart.
Mika shrank into a corner, hugging her knees, whispering the same words over and over like a broken record. "It wasn't me… it wasn't supposed to be me… it wasn't supposed to—"
Tsubasa glared at the blackboard, jaw tight. "Hesitation killed him. Next time we need to act faster. We pick, we vote, we survive. That's it."
Ayaka turned on him, eyes burning. "You call that survival? You killed him, Tsubasa! You pushed us into it. We didn't know—"
"He looked guilty!" Tsubasa snapped back. "Someone had to die. If not him, then one of us!"
"Shut up," Sayaka hissed through clenched teeth.
Reina's soft laugh slipped into the silence, chilling and smooth. She leaned against the stair railing like she was watching a performance. "We wanted truth, but all we've proven is how easy it is to point and burn. Maybe that's the real game."
"Shut your mouth!" Sayaka lunged at her, but Ayaka caught her arm before the fight exploded.
"Not now," Ayaka said firmly.
Sayaka wrenched her arm free but didn't strike. Her breathing was ragged, furious, ready to snap again at the smallest spark.
In the back, Yume clung to Toru's sleeve, trembling, tears streaking her cheeks. "It's not fair. It's not fair… why us? Why him?"
Toru stayed silent. His eyes were fixed on the candle in his hand. Everyone's flame was trembling, thin and weak after the execution. Everyone's but his. His burned taller, brighter, white-hot, casting warped shadows against the wall. He tried to cover it with his palm, but the light bled through his fingers. He knew Reina had noticed—her eyes lingered too long, her smile a shade too sharp.
A harsh crackle cut the air. The chandeliers flickered, buzzing like dying insects. Then the voice slithered out of the walls.
Grimm.
"Ah… how careless of me," he drawled, smooth and mocking through the hidden speakers. "I nearly forgot to explain a crucial part of your little lesson."
Every head snapped up.
"The candles," Grimm continued. "Each flame is you. As long as your candle burns, so do you. When it dies…" He chuckled low, sharp as a blade. "…well, you've already seen what happens."
Gasps rippled through the group. Mika clutched hers tighter, like it was the only thing tethering her to life. Sayaka lifted hers higher, squinting at the flame as if daring it to flicker.
"Watch them closely," Grimm went on. "A candle never lies. Flames tremble for a reason. Some gutter because they are weak. Some because they are marked. But beware…" His voice dropped, heavy and cold. "…anomalies exist."
Static hissed. Then silence.
For a moment no one spoke. Then the whispers began.
"If the candles are us, we can use them," Mika blurted, voice rising shrill with panic. "We just watch whose flame flickers. That's the Extra!"
"And what if it flickers for no reason?" Ayaka snapped. "What if it's another trick?"
"Maybe that's the point," Reina said softly, rolling her candle in her palm. "Maybe the only way forward is to trust what we see. Even if it means burning the wrong one."
Sayaka's glare was murder. "Keep talking like that and I'll shut you up myself."
"Try it," Reina murmured, unfazed.
Yume's voice shook. She lifted her candle with trembling hands. "Then… what about Toru's?"
The air went still.
Every eye turned toward him.
Toru's chest tightened. He'd tried to hide it, but his flame was impossible to ignore—too bright, too white, too alive. It painted jagged shadows across his skin, made his hand look like something inhuman.
Mika's voice cracked with both fear and triumph. "See? Look at his! It's not normal!"
"It's brighter than the rest," Tsubasa said, voice dark. "That's no accident."
Ayaka frowned, torn between doubt and fear. Sayaka clenched her fists, ready to lash out. Reina just smiled, calm and cruel, as if she'd been waiting for this all along.
Toru gripped the base of his candle until his knuckles ached. Words piled in his throat, burning to escape, but nothing came out.
The silence stretched long and heavy.
And faintly, from the walls, Grimm's laugh slithered through the static—amused, patient, promising the next lesson was already waiting.
The class had found their next target.