'So.'
'My memories were tampered with?'
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka stared quietly at his phone screen.
Combined with that wrongness he'd felt up on the rooftop — his memories had probably been altered more than once.
Thoroughly unpleasant experience.
For someone who had spent his entire life as the observer — to find himself observed, penetrated, left without any recourse — the instinctive irritation that provoked was entirely predictable.
But alongside the irritation, if he was being honest, curiosity ran slightly deeper right now.
He had to admit it.
Whatever this school was hiding beneath its surface... it ran considerably deeper than the White Room ever had.
In that case — had coming here to experience 'an ordinary life' been a mistake?
That was a question that answered itself without any real thought required.
After all, the reason he'd chosen this school in the first place was precisely because he'd been searching for something.
Still, he had no intention of moving immediately.
If he couldn't resist this force for the time being, then the best available response was straightforward: gather intelligence, and act only after the picture was clear.
Observe first.
After a brief moment of quiet thought, the stillness returned to Ayanokoji's mind.
He swiped across his screen and passed Hirata Yousuke the summary photos he'd taken of Ichinose's information.
Hirata accepted the phone, skimmed it quickly, and let out a wry smile he couldn't quite suppress.
"Just as I thought."
"The reason my arm healed... it was because the 'exam ended' — a reward granted to the survivors?"
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka didn't engage with that. He simply pocketed his phone, looked at the boy who served as Class D's emotional anchor, and asked calmly:
"What are you planning to do now?"
"Go to a teacher? Report it to the school?"
Hirata Yousuke shook his head, his eyes carrying a complicated, shadowed look.
"That won't accomplish anything, Ayanokoji-kun."
"If a 'special exam' on this scale can be conducted openly within the school grounds — to the point where the academic building itself gets conscripted as an arena — then the administration already knows. They're complicit, at minimum."
"Going to a teacher now would get us nothing but platitudes and a quiet warning. Nothing more."
He drew a slow breath, and something resolute settled into his eyes.
"The most pressing thing right now is finding Horikita-san."
"She was a qualified participant in this exam — and she placed high. She knows something. She has to."
"And beyond that — why she chose to shoulder this alone, without telling anyone else in the class... we need to understand what she's thinking before we can figure out how to move forward."
Ayanokoji offered no opinion either way.
He turned his head slightly, toward Amikura Mako — not far off, phone in hand, chatting animatedly with Ichinose Honami and waving a cheerful goodbye in their direction as she headed off.
She probably just never thought about it.
Horikita Suzune.
No friends.
And genuinely, inconveniently, a difficult person to deal with.
...
At that same moment. The ground-floor corridor of the academic building, around a corner.
Chris and Sakayanagi Arisu had only just stepped out of the Black Sphere room — barely a handful of steps between them and the exit — when two familiar faces came around the bend.
"...Chris?"
And Sakayanagi from Class A?
Hirata Yousuke stopped in his tracks. Something complicated and thoroughly entertained flickered across his face.
The class ghost — the kid who barely registered as a presence on any given school day — was apparently walking in close company with Class A's most notorious figure. And 'close' was doing a lot of work in that sentence.
Is gigolo culture seriously trending right now?
Hirata, suddenly very aware of how awkward he looked, instinctively glanced at Ayanokoji — and found him wearing his usual expression of absolute, unreadable calm.
"My, what a coincidence," Sakayanagi Arisu said, smiling pleasantly at the pair of them.
"I wasn't expecting to run into Chris-kun's classmates the very moment we stepped out... Fate has an interesting sense of humor~"
Hirata Yousuke, despite the very pressing questions filling his head, recognized polite small talk when he heard it — and had more important things to deal with right now. He pushed his curiosity firmly aside and stepped forward.
"Um — Chris."
"I'm sorry to ask out of the blue, but — do you have Horikita Suzune's contact information?"
"We need to reach her urgently, but she wasn't in her dorm or the Library just now."
Chris raised an eyebrow — and shook his head without a moment's hesitation.
"I've exchanged maybe three sentences with her total. Why would I have her number?"
"If you're trying to find her, you'd be better off asking Kushida. She's the only full-blown social butterfly in class — she might actually have Horikita's contact saved."
"Kushida..."
Hirata Yousuke's brow creased slightly.
At that point, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka — who had been silent until now — spoke up.
"Horikita doesn't look like the type who has friends. Wandering around searching randomly isn't going to get us anywhere."
"It's already late."
He glanced up at a sky that had fully surrendered to night.
"We might as well go in tomorrow and ask Kushida to pass the message along."
Hirata Yousuke turned it over for a few seconds, then finally nodded.
"...I suppose that's all we can do."
A few more words of pleasantry were exchanged, and then the two groups parted ways.
Chris watched Hirata Yousuke's retreating silhouette — the quiet, slightly deflated slump of his shoulders — and felt mildly surprised.
"Looks like Ayanokoji didn't tell him who we are."
"Hehe~" Sakayanagi Arisu said, delighted. "Or maybe he's worried about tipping his hand too early?"
"Though he didn't look at you directly... I have a feeling Ayanokoji has his eye on you, Chris-kun~"
Chris's expression went flat.
He took a deliberate step to the side.
"Cut it out. I don't mess with that kind of thing."
"Oh my?"
Sakayanagi Arisu let out a small, mock-aggrieved sound.
"You understood exactly what I meant, which means you did it on purpose! You're terrible~"
"Although..."
She studied him with genuine curiosity.
"I'm not a fujoshi or anything. But I've always wondered — don't plenty of guys ship girl-on-girl content too? What people call 'yuri' and all that."
"So why do you react so strongly to a comment like that?"
Chris stopped walking.
"Different things entirely."
"For one, border skirmishes and territorial invasion aren't the same concept."
"For another, I have an equal and total aversion to that other crowd too."
"And disgust, same as preference — doesn't need a reason."
I'm here for what I choose, and the shippers from either camp can stay in their own lane.
Joking aside — if it wasn't for wanting things to play out a specific way, Shiranami Chihiro's feelings wouldn't even exist as a possibility. Neither would Tachibana Akane's admiration for Horikita Manabu.
Even so, I never pushed Karuizawa Kei into that 'fake boyfriend' dynamic with Hirata Yousuke.
Same principle as waiting in place.
Even if I'm not the one seeking you out — you're supposed to be right there waiting when I arrive.
It's not like I have some weird hangup about authenticity or some philosophy about characters having their own lives that shouldn't be disturbed...
This entire world is on my shoulders. A little indulgence is well-earned. He deserved it.
Sakayanagi Arisu watched his face — composed to the point of being almost theatrical — and tilted her head.
She didn't quite follow.
In Japan's broader social landscape, both communities — same-sex shipping of any kind — were niche interests that mostly stayed in their own corners. Not the sort of thing someone from upper-class society would typically encounter, let alone engage with.
Her best guess was that back when Chris had still been in China, one or both of those groups had managed to get thoroughly under his skin.
Though...
If that's really the case, there might be something worth digging into.
A reaction that strong is always interesting.
The corner of Sakayanagi Arisu's mouth curved. Far from being put off by his cold expression, she drew closer — considerably closer — until she was practically leaning half her weight against his side.
"Well, I didn't understand most of that."
"But given how worked up you are about it..."
"How about you tell me the whole story?"
"I've got the time. You've got the material — so, do you have a story for me?"
"Or — if talking isn't your thing — I'll transfer you 50 points right now. Consider it payment. Just entertain me a little?"
Chris: "..."
"Get lost."
____
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