The café's low hum wrapped around them — a soft, rhythmic blend of chatter, distant laughter, and the faint clinking of cups. Warm light spilled from the hanging lamps, painting their table in gold and shadow. Outside, the sky was bleeding orange into violet, a quiet sign that the day was ending — and something else was beginning.
Their plates were nearly empty, crumbs scattered, drinks half-finished. Yet none of them moved to leave.
After the chatter died down, Ashi's gaze drifted toward Max.
He was the only one still eating, unbothered by the heavy conversation. Every movement of his spoon was calm, almost methodical — as if the noise, the tension, and the uncertainty at the table couldn't touch him.
That quiet composure made Ashi uneasy.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
Ashi: "Max—why aren't you saying anything? What do you think about all this?"
Max didn't look up right away. He finished his last bite, set the spoon down gently, and took a slow sip of water. When he finally spoke, his tone was calm — too calm.
Max: "You've been given an incomplete story."
A ripple of confusion spread across the table.
Sam: "What do you mean, bro?"
Max: "I mean… you've only seen the surface."
Moco frowned, eyebrows furrowed. Her tone carried mild irritation, like she couldn't decide if Max was being cryptic or just arrogant.
Moco: "I don't get it. Isn't it obvious? The Student Council are the villains—end of story."
Ashi leaned back with a smirk, half agreeing. But before he could speak, Tom raised a hand. His calm but serious expression demanded quiet.
Tom: "Hold on. Let's actually hear him out before we jump to conclusions."
Ashi exhaled through his nose and shrugged.
Ashi: "Fine. Let's hear what he has to say."
For a moment, no one spoke. The air between them felt thicker, like the café's soft lights were slowly dimming just around their table.
Then Max looked up. His eyes caught the light — sharp, unreadable, carrying that unnerving stillness that made even Sam shift slightly in his seat.
Max: "I'll say this — I'm only half right… and the other half, maybe not."
Ashi: "Please, say it in simple words."
Max leaned back, intertwining his fingers as if organizing his thoughts before speaking again.
Max: "It's confirmed that someone's behind the Student Council. And I'm also sure of one more thing — no one in this school actually hates them."
A faint laugh escaped Moco's lips, the kind you make when something doesn't make sense but sounds too serious to mock.
Moco: "What do you mean? Everyone acts like the Council's a threat."
Max's gaze flicked toward her — steady, emotionless.
Max: "That's the strange part. Their reactions are too normal. The Council walks around freely, gives orders, and nobody complains. That means they're doing what they claim — protecting the students… from something we don't know."
Ashi crossed his arms. He wanted to laugh it off, but something in Max's tone made him hesitate.
Ashi: "Or maybe that's just an act. What if they keep all that money for themselves?"
Max tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping lower.
Max: "Then explain this — why are there almost no fights between students? This school is filled with top-ranked prodigies, yet there's no rivalry, no tension. Is that even natural?"
That hit harder than expected.
Ashi fell quiet. Sam's jaw tightened as he thought about it — the way everyone looked at them in the hallways, not with hostility, but something else. Caution. Distance. Almost as if everyone had silently agreed on a rule that none of them understood.
Sam: "Okay, I get your point… but if they're really protecting everyone, why don't they ever show it? Why stay quiet when others question them?"
Max: "Because no one dares to question them — not out of fear, but out of trust."
Moco frowned deeper, shaking her head.
Moco: "Trust? You're saying the entire school's united under them?"
Max: "Not under them." His gaze drifted toward the café window, where reflections blurred against the twilight. "Under something bigger."
Ashi leaned forward slightly.
Ashi: "What do you mean?"
Max's voice turned almost a whisper.
Max: "They're united… for a common goal — or against a common enemy."
The table went silent. Outside, the neon lights flickered to life, washing the window in blue. For a brief second, Max's reflection looked darker than him — a shadow with sharper edges.
Tom: "That explains why the captains showed grievances toward us when we didn't pay the fee."
Moco: "Wait—does every class even have a captain?"
Ashi: "Nope. Right now, three classes don't."
Sam: "Let me guess… that's easy—both 9th grade sections, A and B, and 10th B—your section."
Ashi: "That's right."
Tom rubbed his chin, thinking aloud.
Tom: "So, what are we gonna do about it?"
Max: "Nothing. Just sit back and chill."
Ashi's brow twitched.
Ashi: "Hey, but what about the captains? They'll target us tomorrow for sure."
Max looked at him, that same half-smile curling on his face — the kind that didn't reach his eyes.
Max: "Why would they?"
Sam: "Because we beat up their guys."
Max: "They were the ones who struck first."
Sam: "Yeah, that's true."
The confidence in Max's tone made something stir in the group. He wasn't bluffing — he knew something, or maybe he just saw things differently. Either way, none of them felt like arguing.
Tom pushed his chair back, stretching.
Tom: "Alright, that's enough for today. Let's head home—it's already getting dark."
Ashi: "Wait, I'll call my butler, Uncle Tang. He'll be here in no time and drop you all off."
Sam: "Brother Ashi… how rich are you to have a butler?"
Ashi chuckled, brushing it off.
Max: "Me and Sam will walk. Our home's nearby."
Sam stood, glancing at Moco.
Sam: "You can go with them. They'll drop you home."
Moco nodded silently, tightening her ponytail.
As they stepped out of the café, the night air greeted them — cool, carrying the scent of rain and dust. The city's streetlights blinked to life, one after another, lining the quiet road like a path of fireflies.
Tom's voice called out as they split ways.
Tom: "Then it's settled. Let's meet tomorrow at the cafeteria."
Ashi waved lazily as he checked his phone, waiting for his car. Moco stood beside him, her eyes following Max and Sam as they walked away — their shadows stretching long under the yellow streetlights.
Sam kicked a pebble down the road, his tone curious but cautious.
Sam: "You really think there's something bigger behind all this?"
Max didn't answer right away. He looked ahead, the dim light catching the edge of his eyes — cold, unwavering. His thoughts ran deeper than his expression showed.
This place isn't normal. And those who act like it is… are the ones hiding the truth.
He glanced at Sam, voice low.
Max: "I don't think… I know."
They walked on, their footsteps echoing softly on the empty street. The night swallowed the sound soon after — as if the city itself didn't want to hear what was coming.
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