TW; deaths and gore.
Wednesday, 5th March, 20XX.
The next morning came just like any other. Sando arrived at school a little earlier than Itsuki, as he always did. He liked the quiet of an empty classroom, the calm before it was filled with the chatter and bustle of students.
By chance, today, Hana Fujimoto arrived at the same time. Sando caught sight of her as she walked past his classroom, her timid steps almost hesitant. Without thinking too much, he stood abruptly and stepped out, determined to intercept her.
"Good morning, Hana," he said smoothly, offering his usual composed smile as he approached her.
Hana stopped in her tracks and turned around, returning Sando's greeting with a soft, polite smile. "Good morning," she said. Her voice was timid, yet steady enough to carry across the quiet hallway.
Sensing her curiosity, she tilted her head slightly. "Is there something you need, Sando?"
He shook his head, his expression calm, almost nonchalant. "Follow me for a bit," he said, the faintest trace of an innocent smile playing at his lips. "I need help with something."
Hana hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded, trusting him enough to comply. Together, they walked down the hall toward the gym, the quiet morning stretching out around them, until they reached the equipment room.
Sando gestured toward the corner of the equipment room, where a jumble of sports gear lay in disarray. "Can you help me clean that up?" he asked, his voice light and casual, though the faintest pout tugged at his lips. "I accidentally cut my finger yesterday while trying to clean it… it still hurts a lot."
Hana's eyes widened slightly at the sight of his finger, red at the tip, and a pang of sympathy made her nod immediately. "Of course, I'll help," she said softly, stepping closer to start tidying up.
But as she bent down, a piece of cloth suddenly covered her mouth and nose, cutting off her breathing. Panic surged through her, and she tried to push whatever was holding her, but it was too late. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, and her body went limp.
Sando — now the stranger — caught her effortlessly and laid her down gently on the floor. His lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile as he stepped back, watching the result of his careful plan unfold.
"Stupid—why would you follow someone you don't even know?" Sando murmured under his breath, standing over her like a judge. The words were soft, but they cut sharper than any shout. He stared down at Hana's still form for a long moment, then bent and lifted her with slow, practiced care.
"I want you gone," he said, voice flat as stone. "Completely. No name, no face left behind." A faint smile creased his lips — pleasant, impossible to trust. He carried her toward the darker corner of the equipment room, the fluorescent lights humming above them, each step measured and eerily calm.
Sando set her down gently as if tucking a child into bed, hands steady and uncaring. "Don't make this harder than it has to be," he whispered, the menace wrapped in the quiet like a blade. He straightened, the smile never leaving, and for a heartbeat the room held its breath with him.
Sando reached into his backpack with slow precision, fingers brushing over books and papers until they closed around something cold and metallic. When he pulled his hand back, a small kitchen knife glinted faintly under the flickering fluorescent light — the kind used in the cooking club, nothing special, but sharp enough to matter.
He crouched beside Hana's unconscious form, the blade dangling loosely in his grip. His expression didn't shift; his smile stayed faint, almost gentle, but his eyes had gone flat and hollow.
"Don't worry," he murmured softly, almost like a lullaby. "It'll hurt a little at first… then it'll be numb. Numb, just like me."
For a heartbeat, the room felt too quiet. Dust hung in the still air. Even the hum of the lights seemed to dim as Sando stared down at her, the knife catching the dull light with each tremble of his fingers.
A few minutes later, with just an hour left before class, the school buzzed with activity. It was cleaning day, and students moved about dutifully — some swiping floors, others wiping grimy windows, and a few reorganizing clubrooms. Yet, as usual, some stayed behind in their classrooms to finish homework they hadn't yet completed.
In the gym's equipment room, Sando worked quietly. A mop in one hand, a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting nearby, he moved with precise, deliberate motions. The room was otherwise empty, the hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound.
To anyone passing by, it might have seemed like routine cleaning. But the careful attention he gave to certain spots, the slow, methodical way he dabbed and wiped, suggested something far more deliberate. Sando's calm face betrayed nothing, yet every motion hinted at the darkness hidden beneath his composed exterior.
It wasn't long before the once 'dirty' floor gleamed under the gym lights, every corner scrubbed to a careful shine. Sando pulled out a small UV light, scanning the room with meticulous precision. Shadows danced across the walls and equipment as the beam traced over the floor, revealing… nothing.
Satisfied, he gave a quiet hum of approval, setting the mop and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide back in their places. Everything was as it should be. With a calm, measured step, he left the equipment room, the faint echo of his footsteps the only sound in the empty gym.
Sando returned to class, weaving past students busy with cleaning. Desks were being wiped, floors swept, and the room smelled faintly of polish. He spotted Itsuki carefully wiping down the tables, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Sando approached, raising a hand in a small wave. "Hi, Suki," he said, his lips curving into a faint smile — the kind that made him look almost triumphant, as if he'd just won some silent challenge.
Itsuki spun around, his face lighting up with a wide grin. "Hi, Sand…!"
Sando's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of annoyance crossing his otherwise calm face.
"Sand?" he asked flatly.
"That's your nickname! :)" Itsuki said cheerfully, completely oblivious to Sando's reaction.
Sando simply facepalmed, letting out a quiet sigh. He didn't argue further—not today, at least—and settled onto a chair near the table Itsuki was cleaning.
"You're so happy to be cleaning… let me guess, that's your hobby?" Sando asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes watching Itsuki with mild amusement.
"Yeah, you could say that, Sand," Itsuki replied cheerfully, grabbing a dry cloth to wipe down the damp spots left behind from his earlier cleaning. He hummed softly as he worked, completely at ease, while Sando's gaze lingered on him, quiet and contemplative.
Then the same group of girls from yesterday slipped into the classroom, only to realize that they were in the same room as the 'couple'. A hush fell over them for a moment, and after exchanging quick, excited glances, they quietly backed out of the room.
Once outside, they pressed themselves against the window, peering in with barely contained glee. Three of them exchanged mischievous grins, eyes sparkling like they'd just hit the jackpot. In their minds, watching Sando and Itsuki together like this was a rare treasure, a sight worth celebrating and obsessing over.
I feel the tension! Tensioning!! Where's the camera!?" one of the girls whispered frantically.
Before anyone could respond, she snatched a small camera from her friend's hands and began furiously pressing the shutter button, snapping photo after photo of Sando and Itsuki through the classroom window. Their giggles and whispers mixed with the soft clicks, each image a prized capture in their eyes.
The rapid clicking of the camera shutters echoed faintly against the walls, yet Sando and Itsuki remained engrossed in their conversation, completely oblivious to the sudden commotion outside.
By the time the girls had taken what they deemed a satisfying number of pictures — two hundred seventy in total — their excitement was barely contained. With small, muffled giggles, they slipped away quietly, leaving only the lingering thrill of their secret observation behind.
Meanwhile, Itsuki and Sando, completely unaware of the chaos outside, had just finished their conversation. They began gathering their things and settling back into their routine, preparing for the next class as if nothing had happened. The classroom felt calm once more, the echoes of giggles and camera clicks fading into memory.
A few endless class hours crawled by, the clock ticking slower than usual. Sando's expression remained calm, a faint smile tugging at his lips the entire time. Every movement, every word from the students passed by unnoticed.
As the final ten minutes approached, he leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes scanning the room with quiet satisfaction. No one had suspected a thing—not yet. The secret he carried was safe, hidden beneath the ordinary rhythm of the classroom, and for now, that was enough.