---
The gymnasium smelled like floor wax and forced enthusiasm.
Ren sat in the bleachers beside Ryuji, who had already made his feelings about the rally clear by slumping so far down in his seat he was nearly horizontal.
"I hate this," Ryuji muttered.
"I know," Ren replied.
Below, Kamoshida presided over the exhibition match with the satisfaction of a man who had engineered every detail of his own applause. The volleyball team moved precisely. Efficiently. The kind of precision that came from fear dressed up as discipline.
Ren's eyes tracked Mishima.
He was playing. Knee brace visible even from the bleachers. His movements were compensating — weight shifted, landing wrong, jaw tight every time he had to push off his right leg.
"He shouldn't be playing," Ren said quietly.
"Told ya he had crazy endurance," Ryuji muttered, though his voice lacked its earlier lightness.
On the court, Kamoshida jumped into the air and slammed the ball down in an Olympic-worthy spike.
KRAK
SLAM
The room fell silent before gasps exploded from the audience.
Mishima had collapsed and was clutching his knee, curled into the fetal position.
Kamoshida jogged over and crouched beside him.
From the bleachers, it looked almost paternal.
Ren watched Mishima's face.
Whatever Kamoshida said made the boy stop talking.
A teacher helped Mishima off the court.
Kamoshida straightened up, clapped his hands twice, and the match resumed.
Ryuji said nothing. His hands were flat on his knees, pressing hard.
"Ryuji," Ren said.
"I'm fine," Ryuji replied.
He was not fine.
Ren didn't push it.
---
After the rally, the hallways filled with the usual noise of students filing out. Ren and Ryuji waited near the gym exit, phones out, not talking much.
Ann and Shiho had not come out yet.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Morgana shifted in Ren's bag.
"They should be out by now," he said quietly.
Ren was already watching the gym door.
"Kamoshida asked them to stay behind," a third-year said to her friend as she passed by. "Probably about the team stuff with Suzui."
The friend made a sympathetic sound. "Poor Ann. She always gets pulled into it."
They passed.
Ren and Ryuji looked at each other.
"I'll go around to the side exit," Ren said, already moving.
---
Inside the equipment room adjacent to the gym, Kamoshida stood with his arms crossed and the door closed.
Ann stood slightly in front of Shiho. She hadn't consciously decided to do it. Her body had simply done it.
"I'll keep this brief," Kamoshida said pleasantly. "Suzui, I understand you're going through a difficult time. I want to be understanding. But the team needs you. I think you know that."
Shiho said nothing.
"And I think you know," he continued, his voice dropping slightly, "that there are consequences when my players decide to be difficult."
His eyes moved to Ann.
"You've been good about understanding that, Takamaki. Very cooperative. I appreciate that."
Ann's stomach turned.
She knew what he meant. Three weeks ago he had told her the photos were just for him. That it would keep Shiho out of the worst of it. That it would stay between them.
She had been stupid.
She had known she was being stupid even as she did it.
And she had done it anyway because there had been no other option she could see.
"I'd hate for certain images to end up somewhere they shouldn't," Kamoshida said. "Minors, of course — so very serious. I'd have no choice but to report it. The photographer. The subject. A real shame."
"Those were sent under duress," Ann said.
Her voice was steadier than she felt.
Kamoshida smiled.
"Were they? I don't recall any duress. I recall a student attempting to seduce a teacher."
Shiho's hand found Ann's wrist behind her back. Gripping hard. Grounding her.
Ann thought about what Morgana, Ryuji and Ren had said they had seen at the castle.
The cognition of herself in a bikini standing beside a man wearing a crown and a speedo, smiling a smile she had never made in her life.
That was how he saw her.
That was all she had ever been to him.
Something shifted behind her sternum.
"What exactly do you want?" Ann asked defiantly.
Kamoshida tilted his head, as if she'd asked something obvious.
"Suzui returns to the team. You remain cooperative. And we don't have to have any unpleasant conversations with the administration."
"And if we don't?" Shiho asked.
Quiet. Controlled.
Kamoshida's smile widened slightly.
"Then I'd be very concerned about a troubled transfer student with a criminal record making threats against staff, encouraging vulnerable students to quit their sports teams. It would be very easy for someone like that to have a terrible year."
He straightened.
"You have until the next board meeting."
He moved toward the door.
"Oh — and Ann," he added without turning around. "You really do photograph beautifully. It would be a shame to waste that."
He left.
The door swung shut behind him.
Silence.
Shiho released Ann's wrist.
Ann realized her hand was shaking badly.
"Ann—"
"I'm okay," Ann said.
She was not okay.
"We need to go," Shiho said carefully. "Right now. Before he changes his mind and does something else."
Ann nodded.
They moved quickly through the side exit into the hallway where the lights were still on, students were still present, and nothing had officially happened at all.
---
Ren was waiting at the side exit when they came through.
He took one look at Ann's face and didn't ask any questions.
"Walk," he said simply. "We'll talk outside."
They walked.
Behind him, Morgana was very quiet.
Ryuji fell into step beside Shiho, glancing between her and Ann and clearly restraining every instinct he had to immediately say something loud about Kamoshida.
Ren caught his eye and shook his head slightly.
Not yet.
Outside, under an overcast sky, Ann stopped walking.
She stood very still.
Then she laughed.
Short. Humorless.
Directed at nothing.
"He had the audacity," she said quietly, "to say I photograph beautifully."
Shiho placed a hand on her shoulder.
"He's going to use those pictures," Ann said. "He's actually going to reveal them. I sent them so he'd leave you alone and he's going to reveal them anyway."
"We won't let that happen," Shiho said.
"How?" Ann asked flatly.
It wasn't really a question.
Morgana poked his head out of Ren's bag.
"There's more than one way to make a king answer for what he's done," Morgana hinted.
---