The library was filled with the quiet shuffle of papers and the faint buzz of whispers. The fluorescent lights cast soft shadows on the rows of desks, and Horikita's study group had gathered once again — but this time, it was larger.
Kiyotaka Ayanokōji sat at one end of the table, next to Maya Satō, who had been smiling nervously since the session began. She leaned slightly toward him, the faint scent of citrus perfume surrounding her.
"Ayanokōji-kun… do you already have a girlfriend?"
Her question came suddenly, and he nearly dropped his pen.
He looked at her calmly, his expression unchanged. "No."
Satō's face brightened instantly. "Really? That's surprising. You're quiet but… kind of cool, you know? You helped a lot during the sports festival."
Ayanokōji tilted his head slightly, trying to keep his tone neutral. "You're overestimating me."
But Satō wasn't easily discouraged. "No, I'm not. You're just… different from the others."
Across the table, Ike and Yamauchi were watching with their jaws half-open, exchanging wide-eyed glances.
"Bro, is this real?" Ike whispered."How the hell is she into him?!" Yamauchi muttered.
Ayanokōji sighed internally. He could feel the eyes on him, the subtle judgment, the rising curiosity of the others. He wanted to disappear — or at least switch seats — but Horikita had arranged the pairings, and escaping wasn't an option.
At that moment, the library door opened quietly.
Honami Ichinose entered, her cheerful expression bringing a warm light into the otherwise tense atmosphere. "Sorry to intrude! Horikita-san, is this where your group's meeting?"
Horikita nodded. "Yes. Thank you for coming, Ichinose. I thought it would be useful for both our classes if we shared notes."
Ichinose smiled. "Of course. Collaboration benefits us both."
The two girls began discussing study schedules and problem types, their leadership styles perfectly contrasting — Ichinose's warmth versus Horikita's precision.
Meanwhile, Satō kept trying to strike up small talk with Ayanokōji, asking about his hobbies, favorite foods, and even what kind of music he liked. He deflected politely, each time with short, vague replies.
When she leaned a bit closer, whispering, "Hey, do you think I'm too forward?"He answered quietly, "Maybe a little."
Satō pouted, but smiled anyway. "Then I'll slow down."
From across the room, Ike nearly fell out of his chair. "What kind of romance flag is this?!"
Horikita gave him a sharp glare. "Focus on your notes, Ike."
At the same time, far from the library, I was sitting under the shade of a tree near the vending machines with Ibuki. The late afternoon breeze carried the scent of autumn leaves, and she sat beside me, arms folded, pretending to be annoyed as always.
I handed her a soft-serve cone. "Here. Apology ice cream."
She raised an eyebrow. "Apology for what?"
"For teasing you earlier," I said with a grin. "You get mad so easily, it's too fun."
Ibuki glared, snatching the cone. "Tch. You're lucky this tastes good."
We sat quietly for a while, watching students walk past. Some of them glanced at us and whispered — the forum rumors still hadn't died down. Our photos, our moments from the sports festival — they'd become small legends.
Ibuki noticed the glances too and frowned. "They're still talking about us."
"Let them," I said, leaning back against the tree. "We've already made history."
She rolled her eyes. "Idiot."
Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "Hey, Sōshi… Are you X?"
The question hit like a sudden gust of wind.
I turned to her slowly, amused. "And what if I was?"
Her eyes widened slightly as I reached out and pulled her gently onto my lap. She stiffened, her ice cream melting slightly as she tried to compose herself.
"What if I told you I was X — the one manipulating everything behind the scenes?" I said softly, teasing. "Would you still stay by my side?"
She hesitated, then looked straight into my eyes. "If you were X… I'd probably hate you. Because that would mean you're using everyone — even me."
For a moment, I was silent. Then I smiled, gently brushing her hair behind her ear. "Fair answer. But don't worry — I'm not X."
"Then who is?" she asked quietly.
"I know who," I said, lowering my voice. "But it's better you don't. He's… dangerous. The kind of person you don't want to cross."
Ibuki frowned but didn't press further.
I took her hand, squeezing it lightly. "Just promise me something."
"What?"
"Stay the way you are. Don't get involved in this mess."
She looked away, pretending to be indifferent, but her grip on my hand tightened slightly.
Back in the library, the study session finally came to an end. Horikita closed her notebook, and Ichinose began packing her materials.
As the others left, the two girls stayed behind.
"I have to admit," Ichinose said, smiling softly, "I really envy your class, Horikita-san. Everyone's getting stronger, more united."
Horikita shook her head. "We're still unstable. Your class is more harmonious. You don't have the kind of problems we do."
Ichinose laughed. "That's not true. We just hide our issues better."
Horikita gave her a curious look. "Maybe. But you've managed to lead without resorting to manipulation. That's something I respect."
Ichinose blushed, waving her hands. "D-don't say things like that! You're embarrassing me."
"Why?" Horikita asked bluntly. "It's the truth."
Ichinose stammered. "It's just… I'm not used to being praised like that by someone who's always so serious."
Their conversation shifted to Kushida — the one issue that continued to threaten Class D from within. Horikita began asking vague, probing questions, trying to make Ichinose think about ways to handle conflict within her own class — hoping she might stumble upon a hint.
Ichinose, ever the idealist, smiled warmly. "If it's about Kushida-san… then maybe you just need to reach out to her heart. If I could, I'd even give a million private points to help her or you. We're friends, right?"
Horikita blinked, genuinely surprised. "You really are a good person."
Ichinose flushed deeper. "S-stop saying things like that, seriously!"
Moments later, she excused herself, leaving the library with her usual bright smile.
After Ichinose left, Ayanokōji appeared from behind one of the shelves, slipping his phone into his pocket. "You were trying to use her to figure out the Kushida problem, weren't you?"
Horikita crossed her arms. "I considered it."
"She trusts easily," he said. "You could use that."
"I won't," Horikita replied firmly. "That's not how I want to handle this."
They exchanged a knowing glance before leaving the library together.
At the end of the hall, Kushida Kikyou was waiting — smiling sweetly as always, though her eyes glimmered with something unreadable.
Horikita approached her calmly. "You knew this was coming."
Kushida's smile didn't falter. "I did. I'm surprised you brought Ayanokōji along. Are you planning to make this a group therapy session?"
"I'll get straight to the point," Horikita said. "I know about your past."
Kushida's smile froze. "...So you told him?"
"I didn't have to," Horikita said. "He figured it out."
The tension thickened.
Kushida exhaled softly, still smiling, but her eyes were sharp. "Then maybe he should leave. This conversation doesn't concern him."
Ayanokōji nodded. "As you wish."
He stepped outside — but Horikita's next move surprised him. His phone buzzed. A call from her.
HORIKITA: Keep listening.
He put in his earphones and quietly stood by the door.
Inside, Horikita spoke first. "Let's settle this properly, Kushida-san."
"Oh?" Kushida replied sweetly.
"I'll make you a deal — or rather, a bet. In the next final exam, for one subject of your choice, if you get the highest score in the entire year… I'll withdraw from school myself."
Kushida's eyes widened slightly. "You're serious?"
"If you lose," Horikita continued coldly, "you'll stop interfering with me. Forever."
A silence fell. Then, slowly, a dangerous smile crept onto Kushida's lips.
"Fine. I accept."
Horikita turned her phone toward the corridor. "We'll need a witness."
From behind the shelves, Manabu Horikita, her older brother, stepped into view — calm, authoritative. "I'll serve as witness."
Kushida blinked in surprise. "You really went that far…"
The bet was sealed.
After Manabu left, the tension remained heavy in the air. Kushida crossed her arms, her sweet expression slipping slightly.
"I know you were eavesdropping, Ayanokōji-kun," she said without turning around.
Ayanokōji entered the room, unsurprised. "You noticed."
Kushida sighed softly. "You always do things quietly, don't you?"
He looked at her evenly. "I'd like to add a condition to the bet."
Her eyes narrowed. "Condition?"
"If you tell us everything about your past — the truth about what really happened — then I'll consider myself satisfied, regardless of the result."
Kushida looked at him for a long moment, then laughed softly. "You're cruel, you know that?"
But she began speaking anyway.
"I've always wanted to be admired. To be loved. To be praised." Her tone was soft, almost dreamlike. "Since I can't be number one in anything — not sports, not grades — I decided I'd be number one by making people like me. By being the perfect girl."
Horikita watched silently.
"But it's hard," Kushida continued, her smile trembling. "Keeping that act up every day. Pretending to be kind, cheerful, understanding… It eats you alive."
Her voice grew weaker. "I used to pull my hair out. Sometimes I'd throw up from anxiety. The only way I could stay sane was by writing my true feelings in a secret blog."
Ayanokōji said nothing.
"One day," she whispered, "someone found it."
The silence stretched.
"It spread. Everyone knew what I really thought about them. And then… everything fell apart." Her eyes gleamed with a strange, hollow light. "Thirty students turned against me. They hated me. So I made them hate each other instead."
She smiled faintly — a chilling, broken smile. "It was… beautiful. Watching them tear each other apart with their own secrets. I didn't even have to lie."
Horikita's eyes narrowed. "And that's why your class collapsed."
Kushida nodded. "The school couldn't punish me. Technically, I didn't break any rules. But I learned something that day — people's trust is fragile. And once broken, it's easy to manipulate."
Her expression darkened. "If I wanted, I could do the same thing here. Destroy Class D from within."
Horikita clenched her fists. "You won't."
Kushida's smile returned, sugary sweet. "We'll see."
She turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. "Oh — and don't worry. I quit blogging. Now, when I'm stressed…"
She looked back, her eyes glinting. "I just scream until I can't anymore."
The door closed behind her, leaving a heavy silence.
Ayanokōji exhaled slowly. "So that's her truth."
Horikita nodded, her expression unreadable. "She's dangerous."
"She's human," he corrected. "Just… too good at pretending."
Outside, the corridor lights flickered faintly. Somewhere far away, Ryūen was still hunting for X.
And in another corner of the campus, Ibuki sat alone beneath the tree where we'd talked, her half-eaten ice cream forgotten, staring at her phone — at the blurry photo of us that had gone viral.
Her expression was complicated — annoyance, curiosity, and something else she couldn't name.
"What if he really was X…" she murmured.
The wind blew softly, scattering the fallen leaves.