March 1st.The faint chill of winter still lingered in the air, but the first signs of spring had begun to creep across the campus. The sakura trees that lined the courtyard remained bare, yet the sky above the Advanced Nurturing High School had started to soften, like the calm before something new began.
Inside Class C's classroom, the air was thick with tension and excitement.The results of the year-end exams had finally arrived.
Chabashira-sensei stood at the podium, her arms crossed, a rare expression of satisfaction on her face. Behind her, the digital board displayed everyone's names and scores.
"First of all," she began, her tone unusually warm, "congratulations. All of you—every single one—have passed the final exams."
A wave of cheers erupted through the room. Ike leapt from his seat, shouting something unintelligible, while Yamauchi clapped Sudo on the back.
Sudo, who sat with his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face, tried to look nonchalant, but the faint flush of pride betrayed him.
"Hell yeah!" Ike shouted. "Sudo, you actually did it!"
"Tch, of course I did. I'm not some idiot who keeps failing forever," Sudo shot back, though his grin widened.
Chabashira gave a faint smile. "Among the students who showed the most improvement, Sudo Ken was the clear standout. You've done well. Keep that up."
Sudo blinked in surprise. Praise — from her? For a second, he didn't even know how to respond.
Meanwhile, a few students exchanged glances at another name near the top of the board.
"Kouenji Rokusuke… second place again?" Hirata murmured in disbelief.
Ike threw his hands up. "He didn't even study! How the hell—"
Kouenji flicked his golden hair, flashing a dazzling grin. "A true genius doesn't need to prepare, my dear Ike-kun. My intellect simply shines, whether I study or not."
"More like you're just lucky," muttered Sudo under his breath.
Chabashira let the class chatter for a while before clearing her throat. "I'll admit, I didn't expect such progress. Your performance this term exceeded expectations. But—" she paused, her tone growing firm, "don't let this success get to your heads. These were only school-level exams. The world beyond this campus will not be so forgiving."
The room quieted down.
She continued, her eyes scanning over each of them. "You've proven you can work together. But the real test—the one that will determine your standing for the next year—is coming."
A faint buzz of unease spread through the class.
"The next special exam," she announced, "will be held on March 8. It will be the Final Special Exam of the year."
Even Ayanokōji, sitting silently near the back, raised his eyes slightly from his notebook.
"Be prepared," Chabashira added. "Depending on how you perform, this could decide your entire future in this school. Don't think of it as just another test — think of it as a battlefield."
Her gaze softened slightly. "Still… it's rare for me to say this, but—well done. Keep it up, and perhaps… two years from now, some of you might really graduate from Class A."
She turned to leave, but Hirata stood and addressed the class, his tone bright and encouraging as always.
"Everyone, this is it. The last hurdle of the year. Let's give it our all—no one should be expelled, not after how far we've come together!"
The class responded with a chorus of agreement, their spirits high.
Chabashira glanced back briefly before leaving. "Just remember… confidence is good. Overconfidence isn't."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
After class, the hallways buzzed with renewed energy. Some students discussed strategies for the upcoming special exam, while others celebrated their passing grades.
Ayanokōji stepped into the corridor, his mind half-occupied with the next exam — and half with the looming shadow of Sakayanagi's challenge.
As he rounded the corner, he noticed two familiar figures standing by the windows overlooking the courtyard.
Manabu Horikita — the composed, ever-formal student council president.And beside him, the one who had succeeded him — Nagumo Miyabi, his expression as smooth and calculating as ever.
The two seemed to be engaged in quiet conversation, but when Nagumo spotted Ayanokōji, a smile immediately curled on his lips.
"Well, well. If it isn't Ayanokōji Kiyotaka."
Ayanokōji gave a polite nod. "Nagumo-senpai. President Horikita."
Nagumo tilted his head. "So? Did you pass the end-of-year exams?"
"I managed," Ayanokōji replied calmly.
Nagumo chuckled. "That's not a very enthusiastic answer. Is that really how you should be speaking to the student council president?"
Before Ayanokōji could reply, another voice cut through the air — smooth, almost lazy.
"President Nagumo, it's not very good to bully normal students like that."
I appeared from behind them like a shadow materializing out of nowhere. My tone was light, but my eyes were cold.
Nagumo turned slightly, his smirk not fading. "Ah, Miyamoto. I didn't notice you there. You move like a ghost, as always."
I shrugged. "That's what everyone says."
"Speaking of ghosts," Nagumo continued, "I've been hearing whispers lately. About the incident with Ichinose Honami."
The air seemed to tighten instantly.
He looked at Ayanokōji, his expression playful but sharp. "It seems someone helped divert attention from her by spreading other rumors — fake ones — about several unrelated students. Quite the clever move. You wouldn't happen to know who was behind that, would you?"
Ayanokōji met his gaze, completely unfazed. "The school has already forbidden any discussion about that incident. I'm sure you, as student council president, are also bound by that rule."
Nagumo's smile froze for just a fraction of a second.
Manabu, standing beside him, spoke quietly. "He's right, Nagumo. The matter has been officially closed by the school. Even you don't have the authority to dig into it."
Nagumo turned toward his predecessor, his smile returning though his eyes were colder now. "…As sharp as always, Horikita-senpai."
Manabu gave a simple nod. "Rules are rules. Don't forget that."
Nagumo sighed dramatically, brushing his hair back. "Fine, fine. No need to glare at me like that."
Then he looked back at me, his grin returning. "By the way, I've already submitted your application for a seat on the student council, Miyamoto. I keep my promises."
"…Thanks, I guess," I muttered.
"But you seem… different lately," he added, studying me carefully. "Your eyes, your tone — it's like you've lost something."
I gave a hollow chuckle. "You're not wrong. The Miyamoto gang's gone. My reputation's at rock bottom. There's nothing left for me to lose."
Nagumo nodded slowly, as if reading between the lines. "Hmm… maybe that's what makes you interesting."
Before the conversation could continue, footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Suzune Horikita approached, her usual composed expression in place.
Nagumo turned toward her immediately. "Ah, Horikita-san. Just the person I wanted to see."
She frowned slightly. "What is it, Nagumo-senpai?"
"How would you like to join the student council?" he asked casually.
Both she and Manabu blinked in surprise.
"Me?" she asked.
"Of course. You've got talent — determination. The council could use someone like you."
Her brows knitted together. "I'll have to decline."
Nagumo raised an eyebrow. "So quick to refuse?"
She crossed her arms. "I don't want to be part of something just for appearances. If I earn it, I'll join on my own terms."
A faint smirk tugged at Manabu's lips. "That's my sister for you."
Nagumo chuckled softly. "Stubbornness runs in the family, I see. Very well."
Suzune simply turned and walked off, her steps brisk, her shoulders stiff with irritation.
As she disappeared around the corner, Nagumo sighed and looked back at the two of us. "So serious, all of you. This school could use a little more chaos."
Manabu gave him a cool stare. "Chaos is only fun until someone gets crushed under it."
Nagumo smiled. "That's what makes it fun."
He gave a small wave, then turned and walked away, leaving only silence behind.
Manabu exhaled quietly and looked at me and Ayanokōji. "Be careful with him. Nagumo's dangerous when he's bored."
Ayanokōji nodded. "I know."
Manabu's eyes shifted to me for a moment. "And you, Miyamoto… whatever's weighing on you, don't let it consume you."
I gave a faint, humorless smile. "Too late for that."
Manabu didn't reply. He simply turned and walked away, the morning sun catching the edge of his blazer.
Ayanokōji and I stood in the empty corridor, silence settling between us.
The day had long since melted into night, the faint glow of the moon peering through the narrow window of my dorm room. The rest of the campus had gone quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the flickering light of my screen.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, controller in hand, staring vacantly at the game's display. The sound effects of gunfire and explosions echoed through the room, but I wasn't really playing. My fingers moved automatically, running through the motions like a machine.
Maybe I just wanted to hear some kind of noise — anything to drown out the silence.
The dormitory was empty and still. Even the air felt heavy, like it was pressing against my chest.
Then, suddenly—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I froze.Three slow knocks echoed from the other side of the door.
It was already past 10 p.m. No one usually came by at this hour.
I set down the controller, sighing quietly as I got to my feet. "Who's bothering me now…" I muttered, sliding on my slippers.
Peering through the peephole, I saw a familiar face — one that made my chest tighten for a reason I didn't quite understand.
Ichinose Honami.
Her hands were clasped in front of her chest, fingers twisting nervously. Her cheeks were flushed slightly from the cold, and a thin layer of white frost dusted her hair.
I hesitated for a second before unlocking the door.
When I opened it, the hallway's fluorescent light spilled into my dim room, bathing her in soft white glow.
"Ichinose…?" I murmured in my usual flat tone. "Why are you here again?"
Her lips curved into a faint smile — one that carried warmth, but also worry.
"Of course I'm here," she said softly. "To chase you… before it's too late."
Her words lingered in the air like mist.
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're not the same as before," she said, looking up at me with those earnest eyes. "When I first met you, you were always sarcastic, teasing, sometimes even cold… but there was life in you. Now, it's like… all of that is gone."
I looked away, scratching the back of my neck. "Maybe I just got tired."
"Tired?" she echoed, stepping closer. "Of what?"
"Of everything," I replied simply.
Ichinose frowned. "That's not an answer."
"I'm not sure I have one."
She studied me for a moment, then glanced past me into the room. "Can I come in?"
"It's messy," I said automatically.
"I don't mind."
Her voice carried a quiet determination that made it impossible to refuse. I sighed, stepping aside. "Fine. Just don't trip over the wires."
She walked in, her soft steps brushing against the carpet. Her gaze swept over the room — the half-finished instant noodles on the desk, the empty soda cans near the window, and the flickering TV screen where the game's character stood idle, waiting.
"It's… lonelier than I expected," she said.
"That makes two of us."
She turned back to face me, smiling faintly. "You joke about it, but it's not funny, you know."
"I'm not joking."
I handed her a can of hot tea from the mini-fridge. She accepted it, holding it close to her chest like it was a small fire.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The sound of the heater filled the silence between us.
Then she said quietly, "I heard from Kanzaki and others that you've been… distancing yourself lately."
"I'm not distancing anyone," I said, staring at the floor. "I just don't belong anywhere. Not in Class C, not with Ayanokōji, not with you. I'm just… someone passing by."
Her expression softened, but her eyes shone with something firm. "That's not true."
"You don't know that."
"I do," she said quickly, her tone trembling. "Because if it weren't for you, I would've completely broken down that day. You were the one who carried my burden when no one else would."
I chuckled softly. "I also helped spread those rumors, remember?"
Ichinose flinched but didn't look away. "I know. And I know why you did it."
Her voice was steady, but her hands gripped the can tighter.
"You thought you were protecting me. That if everyone focused on blaming you, then no one would attack me again."
I didn't answer.
She took a step forward. "You think you're some kind of ghost living in the dark, but you're wrong, Miyamoto. You've done more for people than you realize."
"Maybe," I said quietly. "But that doesn't change what I am. I'm not the angel here. I'm just the one who got caught in your light."
Ichinose shook her head. "You keep saying things like that… but don't you get it? It's not about light or darkness. It's about what you choose to do. And you chose to save me."
Her eyes glimmered under the faint light. "That's enough for me."
I stared at her for a long moment. There was warmth in her voice — the same kind that made people naturally gravitate toward her. But for someone like me, that warmth was almost painful.
"Ichinose…" I murmured. "You shouldn't come here."
"Why not?"
"Because the more time you spend near me, the more the light fades."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You really like talking like a tragic ghost, don't you?"
"I'm just being realistic."
"No," she said firmly. "You're just afraid. You keep pushing people away before they can hurt you."
Her words struck deeper than I wanted to admit.
She took another small step toward me. The space between us shrank until I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo — something floral, gentle, and utterly her.
"I don't care if you think you're a ghost," she whispered. "Even ghosts deserve to be seen."
I looked at her, unable to respond. For once, my mind was blank.
After a while, I sighed, sitting back down on the floor. "You're really stubborn, you know that?"
"I learned from the best," she replied, sitting down across from me.
The corners of my lips twitched slightly. "So now you're calling me stubborn?"
"If the shoe fits."
For a while, we just sat there — two silhouettes in the dim glow of the TV, the faint sound of wind brushing against the window.
Ichinose eventually set her tea aside and leaned forward slightly. "Miyamoto… tell me the truth. Do you regret what you did?"
"…Yeah," I said quietly. "But not because I ruined my reputation. I regret that I couldn't protect you better."
She smiled sadly. "You did more than enough."
"I ruined myself in the process."
"Then I'll help you rebuild," she said without hesitation.
I looked up, startled.
She smiled again — soft, radiant, but resolute. "That's what it means to chase someone, right? You said I shouldn't fall from heaven, but maybe… I just want to walk beside you, even if it's a little dark."
Her words lingered in the air like a fragile melody.
"…You're really weird, you know that?"
"Then we're the same," she said gently.
I turned back toward the TV, pretending to focus on the game, but my hands had stopped moving entirely. The controller felt heavier than before.
Ichinose leaned her head against the wall beside me, her expression calm but thoughtful. "It's okay to rest, you know. You don't always have to fight alone."
"…I don't know if I remember how."
"Then I'll remind you," she whispered.
The words washed over me like the faint warmth of spring sunlight through frosted glass.
For a long time, we didn't say anything else. The quiet hum of the heater, the flicker of the screen, and the soft rhythm of her breathing filled the room.
Outside, snow began to fall again — thin, white flakes dancing in the cold wind.