The faint hum of the shower faded, replaced by the quiet rhythm of dripping water. Ayanokōji stood in front of the mirror, wiping away the steam that had gathered across the surface. His reflection stared back—expressionless, unreadable. The same morning ritual, another unremarkable day.
He grabbed his phone from the sink counter.Two notifications blinked at the top of the screen.
1 Message – Sakura Airi:
"Ayanokōji-kun… can you come over for a bit? I want to talk."
1 Missed Call – Karuizawa Kei.
Ayanokōji stared at the screen for a few seconds before pressing the power button, turning it black again.
"…Later," he murmured.
He had no intention of getting caught in emotional discussions before school.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Ayanokōji was mildly surprised to see Hirata Yousuke standing inside. Hirata usually left earlier than most students—disciplined, punctual, a textbook role model.
"Morning, Hirata," Ayanokōji greeted, stepping in.
"Ah, Ayanokōji-kun. Morning," Hirata replied, smiling politely.
There was something slightly off about him today—his posture a little stiffer, his smile a bit more forced.
As they descended, Ayanokōji's mind drifted. Hirata, staying late in the dorm? Unusual. Maybe…
The elevator dinged open, and his suspicion was instantly confirmed.
The lobby was overflowing with students—mostly girls—from different classes. The air smelled faintly of chocolate and perfume.
"Ah! Hirata-kun!"
"Please accept mine too!"
"Hirata-kun, happy Valentine's!"
The girls swarmed around him, each holding neatly wrapped boxes and ribbons of every shape and color.
Ayanokōji stepped to the side, watching the scene unfold like a wildlife documentary.
So that's why he was late.
Hirata smiled warmly at everyone, refusing none, thanking each girl with sincerity that never wavered.
I stepped out from behind a pillar with a smirk. "Man, that guy's like a walking chick magnet. Even the seniors like him."
Ayanokōji glanced my way. "You sound jealous."
"I am," I said without shame. "If I had his smile, I'd conquer the whole school."
Ayanokōji said nothing, just started walking toward the exit.
Chocolate, Gossip, and the Everyday Chaos
By the time they reached Class C, the atmosphere was lively. Bags of chocolates were being traded around like contraband. Sudou, as usual, was being loud.
"Yo, Kiyotaka!" he called, waving him over. "You got chocolates from Horikita?"
Ayanokōji blinked. "No."
Sudou grinned, leaning close. "Figures. She's not the sweet type. Still, she might surprise you if you play your cards right."
"Doubtful," Ayanokōji said flatly.
I chimed in from the next desk, laughing. "You're wasting your breath, Sudou. Kiyotaka's love life is like Antarctica—cold and uninhabited."
"Ha! Speak for yourself," Sudou shot back. "Anyway, Kushida gave chocolates to all the first-year guys! Even me!"
"That's… nice of her," Ayanokōji said, though the tone implied mild indifference.
I grinned, munching on a piece of candy. "Miyake got one from a Class B girl, by the way. Dude's leveling up."
The chatter spread quickly—who got what, from whom, and what it might mean. In a school where image was everything, even Valentine's Day became political currency.
Chabashira entered, and the room quieted.
"Settle down," Chabashira said, tapping the desk with a file. "Tomorrow, we'll be conducting a test to assess your current academic standing."
Sudou groaned. "A test? But we just finished the last one!"
"It won't count toward your final grades," Chabashira continued. "Think of it as a diagnostic test. It will, however, be similar in structure to your final exams. Consider this a chance to gauge your weaknesses."
She scanned the room, her eyes briefly locking on Ayanokōji. "That's all. Study or don't—it's your choice. Dismissed."
As soon as she left, the classroom erupted again.
I leaned over to Ayanokōji. "She says it won't count, but I bet she's using it to spy on our prep level."
Ayanokōji nodded slightly. "Wouldn't surprise me."
After class ended, Sakura Airi hurried over, clutching her bag.
"Ayanokōji-kun! Um, c-could you come to the group meeting later today?"
"Sure," he said. "After six."
Her face brightened. "R-really? Okay! See you then!"
She scurried off, leaving him standing by the doorway.
Curiosity—or perhaps something more tactical—brought Ayanokōji to Class B. He didn't find anyone approachable; the atmosphere was oddly subdued. Ichinose's desk sat empty.
Absent, he thought.
A few whispers caught his ear.
"She didn't come again?"
"Yeah… heard she's not feeling well."
Not surprising. After the barrage of rumors, she probably needed time to recover. Still, her absence created a vacuum. Without her, Class B's morale would crumble.
He began analyzing quietly. The leak of her past can't be random. Ichinose wouldn't have told anyone recklessly. So either someone very close to her slipped up… or Nagumo himself betrayed her to Arisu.
His eyes narrowed. If that's true, then the chessboard's changing faster than expected.
He turned to leave, only to sense a faint presence following him. He didn't need to look—Hashimoto's tailing was too professional to be mistaken.
Still, Ayanokōji noticed the subtle rhythm of footsteps behind him. He's persistent.
He eventually reached Ichinose's floor. A small group of girls stood outside her door, whispering.
"Should we knock?"
"Maybe she wants to be alone…"
Ayanokōji decided against approaching. Not the right time.
Later that evening, Ayanokōji met Kei outside near the vending machines. She was fiddling with her hair nervously, looking unusually serious.
"Took you long enough," she said, crossing her arms. "I was waiting."
"For what?"
"For you to agree to tutor me, obviously!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to study?"
"Don't sound so surprised!" she snapped, pouting. "I just… don't want to fail, okay? So, you're gonna help me."
"I can, but only late at night," he said calmly. "I'm busy during the day."
Kei sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Better than nothing. Guess I'll just sacrifice my beauty sleep for my GPA."
He smirked faintly. "That's quite the noble sacrifice."
"Shut up," she said, cheeks reddening slightly.
As they walked, Ayanokōji remembered the mysterious phone call from a few nights ago. "Kei, I need you to check a number for me."
He showed her his call log. "Unknown ID. It rang for thirty seconds before hanging up."
She keyed it into her contact list, but the result was blank. "Nothing. Maybe it's from outside the school network?"
"Maybe," he murmured.
He pocketed his phone, clearly ending the topic—but Kei wasn't done yet.
"W-wait!" she blurted out, her tone suddenly nervous.
He turned back. "What is it?"
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached into her bag. "Here."
A small, neatly wrapped box. Pink ribbon. Handwritten note.
"…Valentine's?" he asked.
She puffed out her cheeks. "Don't make it weird! It's just… y'know, obligation chocolate!"
Ayanokōji took it without a word, his expression unreadable.
Kei turned away quickly, flustered. "Geez, you could at least pretend to be happy! It's not like I give chocolate to every guy, you know!"
He gave a slight nod. "Thanks, Kei."
That simple word—thanks—made her freeze for half a second before she recovered, muttering under her breath.
"Whatever. Just… don't forget to eat it, okay?"
She turned and walked off quickly, pretending to fix her hair, though the faint redness in her ears betrayed her mood.
Ayanokōji looked down at the box in his hand.The chocolate was small, but meticulously wrapped—like someone had spent far too long making it perfect.
"…Sweet things aren't really my style," he murmured.
I appeared from behind a corner, munching on some candy. "You gonna eat that or keep it as evidence of human affection?"
Ayanokōji gave me a side glance. "Evidence, maybe."
"Dude," I said, laughing, "if I were you, I'd sell it. Kei chocolate's got market value."
He sighed. "You never change."
"Of course not," I replied proudly. "I'm perfectly imperfect."
Hashimoto Masayoshi was not someone who believed in fair play.
In a school built on manipulation, status, and hierarchy, survival required more than just intelligence — it required adaptability. He had no interest in being a loyal soldier or a moral saint. He wanted results. Power. Stability.
And if that meant forming connections with every class, even with enemies, then so be it.
Hashimoto leaned back in his chair, twirling a piece of chocolate between his fingers. "Motodoi really went all out, huh…" he muttered. The heart-shaped box was decorated with red ribbons and handwritten stickers — painfully romantic.
He hadn't eaten it yet. He probably wouldn't.
It wasn't that he disliked Motodoi — she was cute, cheerful, and well-liked. But she wasn't useful. Dating her would do nothing for his position. Yet rejecting her outright would waste potential leverage.
So, he left the box untouched. A tool for later.
That was how he operated — neither committing nor refusing. Every connection was an investment, every smile a negotiation.
He had even reached out to Ryuuen Kakeru. They were polar opposites in personality, but similar in ambition. Mutual benefit made strange alliances.
And lately, there was one more person he wanted to understand — Ayanokōji Kiyotaka.
Hashimoto still remembered the moment Nagumo-senpai casually dropped that name in conversation.
"That quiet first-year… Ayanokōji. He's interesting. Maybe too interesting."
It had sounded like a joke — something Nagumo said to provoke curiosity. But there was a tone beneath his usual playful voice that stuck with Hashimoto.
Nagumo wasn't one to talk idly.
Since then, Hashimoto had been watching. Observing. Waiting for cracks in the calm façade that Ayanokōji always wore.
He found none.
Ayanokōji moved through his days like a ghost — polite, detached, unnoticed. He spoke only when necessary, avoided drawing attention, and never revealed anything of worth.
Still, that made him even more suspicious.
So when he saw him heading toward Ichinose Honami's floor that evening, Hashimoto followed.
Trailing Ayanokōji was easier than expected. He didn't check his surroundings, didn't adjust his pace, didn't even glance at reflections in passing glass.
Too easy, Hashimoto thought.
Either the guy was careless, or so confident that he didn't need to look behind.
Hashimoto watched from a distance as Ayanokōji reached Ichinose's floor. A group of girls stood near her door, whispering nervously. Ayanokōji paused, turned, and quietly walked away.
He's not going to push it… smart.
Hashimoto decided to stay in the lobby. If Ayanokōji was involved with Ichinose, he'd eventually come back.
Minutes passed. Then, like clockwork, the elevator dinged — and there he was again.
But he wasn't alone.
Standing beside him was Karuizawa Kei.
Hashimoto blinked. That's unexpected.
Kei was smiling awkwardly, holding something in her hands — a box wrapped neatly in soft pink paper.
Valentine's chocolates.
He crouched slightly behind the corner wall, pretending to check his phone but keeping his ears sharp.
Their voices were low, but even from here, the tension was obvious. Kei was fidgeting, trying to sound casual, but her tone was nervous — affectionate.
Ayanokōji, as usual, gave short replies. Calm. Indifferent.
Interesting… very interesting.
This wasn't the fake relationship act she'd put up with Hirata. The way she looked at Ayanokōji — that subtle nervous energy — this was genuine.
Hashimoto grinned. "Bingo."
He slipped his phone out and pretended to answer a call just as he rounded the corner.
"Yo! What are you two doing here?"
Both of them turned slightly, Kei's eyes widening. "H-Hashimoto-kun?! What are you doing here?"
"Passing by," he said smoothly. "Didn't expect to see Class D's ace and his little… partner."
Ayanokōji's face didn't change. "It's nothing special. She was just giving me something to deliver to someone else."
Hashimoto feigned surprise. "Oh? So you're the middleman now? Rough gig."
Kei looked panicked, nodding quickly. "Y-yeah! It's for someone else!"
"Hmm," Hashimoto drawled, eyes narrowing slightly. "Too bad. I was about to say I liked her myself."
That hit the mark. Kei's face turned bright red.
Before Ayanokōji could respond, Kei took a step back and pushed Hashimoto away. "D-don't joke like that!" she stammered, then turned to chase after Ayanokōji who was already walking off silently.
Hashimoto chuckled softly. "Cold as ever… guess he doesn't bite easily."
Still, he got what he wanted — proof that there was something going on between them. And more importantly, he now had Ayanokōji's contact info saved from their brief exchange.
Information is the strongest weapon in this school, he reminded himself. And I just got a new one.
Later that evening, Hashimoto sat in the common lounge, leaning against the window as the winter lights of the campus shimmered below. His phone buzzed — a message from a classmate, Shimizu Naoki.
"Bro, Nishikawa humiliated me! Rejected me in front of everyone, then told her friends! I'm gonna get back at her!"
Hashimoto sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Busy now. Don't do anything stupid. I'll handle it later."
Shimizu was a hothead. If left alone, he'd probably do something that'd damage Class A's reputation. For now, Hashimoto needed to keep him calm until he could use him.
Everything was a piece on the board — from Shimizu's impulsiveness to Kei's emotions to Ayanokōji's secrets.
The key was knowing when to move them.
Meanwhile, Ayanokōji had quietly slipped into the library after parting ways with Kei.
Hiyori Shiina was there, her usual calm smile greeting him from behind a stack of books.
"You came," she said softly.
"I did."
She tilted her head slightly. "You missed the group meeting. Sakura seemed disappointed."
"I had other matters to handle," he replied simply.
They moved to the reading table near the corner, where the air was warmer, the quiet thicker.
Hiyori slid a small box across the table. "A token of thanks. Happy Valentine's Day."
He looked down. "You didn't need to."
"I wanted to," she said, her tone sincere. "I think… people like you forget that kindness doesn't always come with a price."
He didn't answer, but he accepted the box.
For a few minutes, they talked — about books, exams, and the growing tension around the school. Hiyori's insights were sharp, but never probing.
Ayanokōji found her presence… unusually calming.
But as always, he kept his guard up.
He had another meeting scheduled later — something that couldn't be delayed.
When Ayanokōji returned to his dorm around seven, the hallway was empty.
Inside his room, a small surprise awaited him — five boxes neatly stacked on his desk.
He stared at them, mildly amused.
"Kei, Hiyori, Hasebe, Sakura…" he murmured, counting the names attached with tiny notes. The fifth box, however, had no sender name. Only a single folded card that read:
"To the boy who never smiles — from someone who sees through masks."
He placed the box aside. "Arisu, maybe…?"
He didn't open any of them.
Instead, he went through his notes, reanalyzing the recent series of events — Ichinose's absence, the persistent rumours, Hashimoto's behavior, and the call from his father's network.
The pieces were aligning. Slowly.
And he had a feeling the next move would come tonight.
The Girl Who Wouldn't Fall
At 10:00 PM, Ayanokōji stood outside Ichinose Honami's dorm.
The hallway was dim, quiet except for the faint hum of air conditioning. He knocked softly.
"…Ichinose?"
A faint voice answered, muffled through the door. "Ayanokōji-kun? I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well…"
Her tone was weak. Strained.
"I just wanted to check in," he said calmly. "If you need anything, I can ask the dorm staff."
"No, it's fine," she replied, forcing a small laugh. "Just a cold. I'll be okay after some rest."
He could tell she was lying — not out of pride, but to avoid worrying others.
The rumors, the pressure, the guilt — they had finally begun to crush her.
"Alright," he said after a pause. "But don't push yourself."
"…Thank you, Ayanokōji-kun."
The door never opened.
He stood there for a few seconds longer, then quietly walked away.
Behind the closed door, Ichinose sat curled up in her blanket, her phone's screen glowing faintly beside her — messages from classmates piling up, unread.
She pressed a hand against her chest. It hurt — not from sickness, but from something deeper.
"Why… does it have to be like this…" she whispered to herself.
Back in his room, Ayanokōji looked out the window. The city lights flickered faintly below, reflecting in his dark eyes.
The phone on his desk buzzed — a new message.
Hashimoto: "Yo, sorry for earlier. Guess I interrupted your moment with Karuizawa. Let's talk sometime. Got a few things I want to ask."
He stared at it for a few seconds before locking the screen.
The board's set, he thought. And the pieces are finally moving.