Part 1 — The Calm Before the Split
The morning sun spilled over the streets as Haruto, Ayame, and Kaito walked toward the academy. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of dew and warm earth.
"You've been quiet today, Haruto," Ayame said, nudging him lightly.
Haruto glanced at her, expression calm. "I'm learning."
"Learning what?" Kaito asked, a teasing edge in his voice.
Haruto smirked faintly. "How not to trip over my own feet today."
Ayame rolled her eyes and nudged him again. "Big brother, you've been practicing that all your life, and you still stumble sometimes!"
Kaito laughed. "Yeah, I hope you really get it together today, big brother."
Haruto shook his head, smiling faintly. "I'll get it together. Just… give me a few more days."
Ayame giggled, then turned serious for a moment. "It feels… different today. You're calmer. Not like yesterday."
Haruto only nodded, his gaze forward.
The classroom filled slowly, voices overlapping in low waves.
The door slid open again.
Haruto entered first. Ayame followed. Kaito came last. Conversations dipped—not out of fear, but awareness.
Amaya sat near the window.
Sunlight brushed through her brown hair, catching faintly in her burnt-gold eyes as she looked up. Her expression softened for a moment when she saw them—then steadied.
A chair scraped.
"So you're still saying it."
Sanae Fujikawa stood beside Amaya's desk.
Her gaze lingered—not hostile, just sharp—on Amaya's hair, then her eyes.
"You don't look Homura."
Amaya stood.
"I am Homura."
No pause. No defensiveness.
A few students glanced at one another.
Sanae crossed her arms. "People expect a certain appearance. You know that."
"People aren't the ones who decide my blood," Amaya replied.
Another chair slid back.
Izumi Homura stood.
She was quiet—but the room noticed immediately.
Her dark blue hair framed a calm, unyielding face, and when her smoke-grey eyes settled on Sanae, the air seemed to tighten.
"That's enough," Izumi said. Her voice was even. Final.
"She is Homura."
Sanae clicked her tongue, stepping back.
As she turned to leave, she spoke—flat, careless—
"Then don't be surprised when they doubt you."
That was it.
Amaya's fist rose—
—and stopped.
Haruto's grip closed around her wrist, firm, unyielding.
"Don't," he said.
Not loud. Not gentle.
Serious.
Amaya turned on him, eyes blazing. "She doesn't get to decide who I am."
Haruto met her gaze.
Neither of them moved.
His grip stayed firm.
"Amaya," he said quietly, "we promised Sensei. Don't forget."
The words cut through her anger.
For a moment, her breathing stayed sharp—then it wavered.
Slowly, her fist loosened.
Haruto released her—but stepped in front of her anyway, shielding her from the room.
"Go," he murmured.
Amaya hesitated, then turned and walked back to her seat.
A quiet exhale came from behind.
Arashi slumped back in his chair, tension draining from his shoulders.
Ayame followed Amaya without a word, taking the seat behind her. Kaito dropped into the chair beside Ayame, legs stretching out casually, eyes still alert.
Haruto picked up his bag and sat beside Amaya.
Sanae said nothing more.
Izumi had already taken her seat again, smoke-grey eyes forward.
The bell rang.
Footsteps approached the classroom.
Only when the noise settled did Amaya speak—low, controlled.
"Why did you stop me?"
Haruto didn't look at her immediately.
"You hit her," he said softly, "and it's not just you anymore."
He turned then, voice barely above a breath.
"Second day merged. Class 1 on one side. Class 2 on the other."
A pause.
"One punch, and they choose sides."
Amaya clenched her jaw.
"…So you chose for me."
Haruto shook his head. "I protected everyone."
She looked away, burnt-gold eyes dim but steady.
Daigo stepped inside.
And the lesson began—
with tension still seated between them.