Nakahara steps out first, followed by the others down the dim hallway. The gym outside is pitch black, only the faint glow of streetlights slipping through the high windows.
Hiroshi reaches for the switches by the entrance. And the overhead lights flare on one by one, illuminating the ring, the heavy bags, the rows of lockers…
…and Kenta.
He's halfway through climbing in through the small window, frozen like a burglar caught mid-crime.
His legs are still dangling outside. His hands are gripping the frame. His shirt is dusty from scraping the wall.
Kenta's eyes widen the instant he sees them.
"…Oh."
He drops down awkwardly, landing with a thud.
"You guys are still here? What kept you this late?"
Nakahara doesn't blink. His voice comes out flat and cold.
"I should be the one asking you. What are you doing sneaking in through a window at this hour?"
