"It is the little rift within the lute that by and by will make the music mute."
—Alfred Tennyson, "Merlin and Vivien"
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
On Thursday evening, while Kiyotaka was in the middle of a five-man game of old maid, his phone lit up with a message.
He simply glanced at the notification before turning his attention back to the game.
The setup was simple: a 3,000-point deposit to join the lobby, and another 3,000 staked each round. He had stumbled upon this site by complete accident.
Although he had heard before of a gambling network existing in the school, and who controlled the network, Kiyotaka hadn't managed to get access to the website in the original timeline.
For a lack of trying, of course. It didn't interest future Kiyotaka.
So far, they'd played ten rounds. Kiyotaka had won all of them.
He'd spent the past few nights studying Old Maid, even mapping out how to track hands based on observed behaviors. Eventually, he'd found a reliable way to win—even against players clearly colluding.
Like tonight.
It was annoying, but he still won. All the time.
That meant he was already 120,000 points richer.
This was the eleventh round, and almost certainly the last. The others wouldn't want to keep playing with him.
I should try making another account, and lose a few games next time, he noted.
Three minutes later, the round ended. Again, in Kiyotaka's favor.
After thanking the players, Kiyotaka closed the tab and finally checked his phone.
He now had two messages to reply to. Both from Hirata.
(21:04:30 Hirata) Good evening. Do you have time to meet at the park tonight? There's something I'd like to talk about.
(21:05:00 Hirata) But if it's a hassle to go out, we can just talk over the phone. I don't mind.
"What for?" Kiyotaka thought, his eyes still on the screen.
Hirata messaging him at night wasn't unusual. He'd been doing so daily ever since they became friends.
But this was different. This was the first time he'd asked to meet in person.
A few seconds later, Kiyotaka typed out a reply.
(21:08:45) I can go to the park.
Hirata replied almost immediately.
(21:08:50 Hirata) Great! See ya 😁
Kiyotaka closed his phone and slid it back in his pocket.
Standing up, he began to mentally retrace the timeline.
It was still Thursday on the second week of class. Nothing was supposed to happen on this week...
...But something notable did happen the next week.
And Hirata was front and center.
That alone narrowed the possibilities. Still, one question remained: Why would Hirata want to talk to him about it?
Hirata didn't strike him as the type to treat just anyone as a confidant. Not this early. Not unless...
Unless this is who he's always been. He just never had anyone to talk to.
In the original timeline, Hirata was already popular early on. But he was lacking in friends he'd trust his thoughts with. In fact, his only friends in the class were girls who only cared about the protection and validation that affiliating with him would give.
Sure, they liked and respected him, but none of them ever looked beneath the exterior.
To be fair, neither had he. Not actively, at least. It was Hirata who gave him the keys.
The story he'd given about being homeschooled, about not knowing how things worked compelled Hirata to help him adjust.
Because to the boy, Kiyotaka's confession was genuine. He looked like someone who truly needed help.
That meant they talked more— though most of it was through messages. They got to the point where they'd share bits and pieces of their lives.
Of course, Kiyotaka's stories were mixtures of lies and truths, like how he did not meet his father until he was five, how he didn't make much friends because of his father.
Hardly consequential, but they sounded important enough to make Hirata think he was letting him in.
And perhaps, it was because of this 'genuineness' that Hirata began to consider him as his first true friend in school.
Exactly as planned. Though not even he expected it to work so well.
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
A few minutes later, Kiyotaka arrived at the park.
Scanning the area, he saw that Hirata was already there, sitting on a bench. He had a serious look that would have looked foreign to Kiyotaka had he not gotten memories of the future.
He must have been here for a while, Kiyotaka thought.
"Hirata," he called out.
At the sound of Kiyotaka's voice, Hirata's face went back to the usual smiling one Kiyotaka had been accustomed to.
"Good evening, Ayanokōji-kun," Hirata replied, smiling. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation. I wasn't quite sure you'd come."
"You wouldn't have asked to meet if it wasn't important," Kiyotaka replied, approaching.
He sat down beside him.
"So?" he asked. "What's it about?"
Hirata leaned back, eyes fixed on the cloudless sky. "Can I ask you something a bit weird?"
Kiyotaka nodded.
"What do you think about someone who agrees to a lie... not for their sake, but for someone else's? A lie that could last a while."
Kiyotaka didn't answer right away. "So it really is about Karuizawa," he thought.
He was half-hoping it'd be something that didn't happen in the original timeline. That wasn't meant to be.
"It depends," he said eventually. "Is anyone getting hurt?"
The boy contemplated the question for a bit. "No. I don't think so."
"Alright. Would it harm you?" Kiyotaka responded.
He saw no point in pretending to talk about a hypothetical person when it was clear Hirata was talking about himself.
"...That part, I'm not sure yet."
Then, the dark-brown-haired boy smiled faintly. "You already figured out it's about me, huh? You're really sharp."
"You wouldn't have asked to meet if it's not about you. If it's about Horikita or other classmates, you'd just do it over text," Kiyotaka explained.
"Right... right. I guess I'm not thinking clearly right now," Hirata sighed.
"What happened?"
"Someone texted me earlier. They said they wanted to talk. I could tell it was important so I met with them."
"And they asked you for something."
"Yeah."
"Did you give them an answer?" Kiyotaka asked.
Hirata nodded. "Yeah. I accepted."
"Why?"
"I couldn't say no. I mean, after hearing all of it... it was just..." He paused, lips thinning. "Honestly, it was bad. No one should have to go through that once — let alone worry about it happening again. Especially not when..."
He trailed off, shook his head slightly. "Sorry. I was about to say too much."
"It's okay. You can continue," Kiyotaka urged him.
Hirata nodded. "What they asked... wasn't easy. I know that myself. But it's also not the kind of thing you'd ask someone unless you really didn't see another way."
Then, he lowered his gaze.
"Even they knew they were asking for too much. When they told me... they couldn't even look at me. Just—head down, like they were waiting to be rejected."
He exhaled. "I don't know. I couldn't say no."
"What did they even ask from you?" Kiyotaka asked.
He knew the answer, but he was curious if Hirata would tell him.
"To be their boyfriend. So I can protect them."
The lack of hesitation mildly surprised Kiyotaka. But then again, even in the original timeline, Hirata had casually revealed important stories to future Kiyotaka. Although, those were mainly due to Hirata recognizing his abilities earlier on.
"I see. Do you think you could do it?"
Hirata sighed. "I'll give it my best. Although, a part of me is still not sure if I can do it right."
"Then why are you doing it? If you think you can't do it right, there's no point," Kiyotaka asked.
"Because I don't think they could've asked anyone else. And if it's something I can do... I want to try."
"I probably couldn't live with myself if I just let them be."
He gave a half-hearted smile.
"...Sorry for making you listen to all that."
Kiyotaka shook his head. "Don't apologize for that. I don't mind. If anything, this tells me you trust me. That makes me glad."
Hirata turned toward him. "You've let me in on a few of your secrets, Ayanokōji-kun. And... sorry if this sounds blunt, but you don't seem like the type to let people in easily. So after that, yeah. Trusting you with my thoughts didn't feel hard."
"But it's not just your thoughts you're revealing. When you start this fake relationship, I would be the first to know. Because you told me. Are you sure that's okay?"
"Well, I already told you about it," Hirata said with a wry smile. "But that shouldn't be a problem. You're not exactly the type to spread rumors."
Hirata went quiet for a moment, then spoke again.
"There's one thing I'm really worried about, though."
"What is it?"
"I'm not quite sure if I could commit fully if there's trouble," Hirata confessed. "I'd prefer if things wound up peaceful. But I doubt that'd be the case always."
"So you'd be neutral if there's trouble? Aren't you supposed to help this person?"
Hirata rubbed the back of his neck. "When you put it that way... it sounds stupid. But it's because I think there should be certain things I cannot cross."
"Hm?"
"I'll do my best to protect someone, but I won't fight their wars for them."
That checked out. Hirata maintained that approach later on.
"I hope it won't come to that," Kiyotaka replied.
"...Me too," Hirata said. "But it probably will."
Kiyotaka glanced at him, then turned his gaze skyward. "That sucks."
"Yeah..."
It seemed Hirata had already recognized the risks of Karuizawa Kei's chosen persona.
Her confident front wasn't the quiet kind. It was loud, pompous. Her behavior would draw both feelings of intimidation and resentment.
But eventually, someone would push back.
Although that shouldn't be a problem within Class 1-D. Hirata's reputation would be enough to keep things in check. His presence alone could dissuade most problems.
But if she found conflict outside their class, it wouldn't be so simple.
Hirata's name alone wouldn't save her. His actions would, though.
But he wouldn't fight her wars for her. He already said so.
"Think you could guide them to not seek trouble?" Kiyotaka asked off-handedly.
Hirata smiled wryly. "I don't think that would end well."
"You won't know unless you try." Kiyotaka glanced at him. "If there are lines you won't cross, then guide them in a way that keeps you from having to."
Hirata looked down for a moment, then gave a small nod. "I'll see what I can do."
Empty words, Kiyotaka could tell.
Hirata wasn't the type of person to tell another what to do with their lives. Even when he should.
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
The next day came and went without much incident.
After class ended, Hirata, Kiyotaka, and the girls headed to the Music Club's room just as they had planned on Monday.
Satō and Mii-chan, in particular, were the most excited about it. Although, the latter's excitement was more muted compared to the extroverted Satō.
"Hey, Ayanokōji-kun, what song are you going to play?" Satō asked.
"You've already asked four times," Kiyotaka pointed out.
Once when they left the classroom, twice along the hallway, and now again. By the second time, it should've been obvious she wasn't getting an answer.
Karuizawa snorted. "Just tell her you haven't thought of anything yet."
But before Kiyotaka could protest, Mii-chan intervened.
"If nothing comes to mind... I can help you out, Ayanokōji-kun."
A saving grace.
It wasn't that Kiyotaka had no idea what to play. He wasn't sure what piece would fit this group.
"Sure, what do you have in mind?"
Mii-chan leaned in slightly, voice low. "What about Chopin's Ballade No. 1?"
Turns out, Mii-chan wasn't much help either.
"Ballade No. 1?" Kiyotaka repeated.
"Do you know how to play it?" Mii-chan asked shyly.
"Yeah. But that might be a little too much for this..."
Mii-chan aside, Kiyotaka doubted any of his friends would understand why Ballade No. 1 was an impressive piece.
Her eyes widened slightly as she realized her mistake.
"Ah... right. Sorry."
"It's okay. Don't apologize," Kiyotaka assured her.
Soon, the group found themselves in the Music Club's clubroom.
Hirata talked with a blonde-haired girl, who spoke for the Music Club in the Club Fair, asking for permission to play the instruments.
The girl smiled and guided them to the piano area. She introduced herself as Miyazono, the club president.
As they approached, they saw a handful of music club members were in the area, chatting among themselves.
"So, who's gonna play?" She asked.
Kiyotaka glanced at Mii-chan, who seemed to have frozen up at the realization there were more people than expected.
So he decided he'd play first.
As Hirata sent him a thumbs-up, Kiyotaka sat on the chair and opened the cover.
"Senpai, do you have any suggestion what to play?" Kiyotaka asked the blonde club president.
"Depends—can you play anything besides Für Elise and Canon in D?"
"Uh..."
She giggled. "I'm joking! Wait... let me think."
Her gaze then swept across the room, from her clubmates to Kiyotaka's friends. Normally, she'd make someone play a classic, but this time, a more modern piece would fit better.
"Do you know how to play River Flows in You?"
"Yeah." He stumbled upon it on the internet last week. It was simple, but he liked the piece enough to look up the sheet music.
Noticing his friends' anticipation, Kiyotaka set his fingers to the keys.
Then, the melody began.
"Ho-how did that guy make it sound so sophisticated?" Kiyotaka heard a male club member say in the middle of his performance. A few others shushed the poor guy.
As the performance ended, all eyes were on him.
Miyazono clapped her hands in appreciation, and so did his friends.
"What's your name?" Miyazono asked.
"Ayanokōji."
"Hmm... you're extremely talented, Ayanokōji-kun," she praised him. "It takes skill to make a simple piece sound like a masterpiece."
But he ignored the adulation. It was an expected reaction.
"Mind if I play one more?" he said, fingers already on the keys.
Miyazono nodded. "Sure. Got anything in mind?"
Kiyotaka glanced at Mii-chan.
Earlier, he thought her suggestion was too much. But after the club president's little jab earlier, implying he only knew Für Elise and Canon in D, it finally felt appropriate.
"Yeah," he said.
Then, he played Chopin's Ballade No. 1.
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
Exiting the club room, Kiyotaka and Mii-chan found themselves holding identical membership forms handed to them by Miyazono.
After Kiyotaka's masterful rendition of Ballade No. 1, Mii-chan mustered the courage to play as well. Though her performance wasn't on the same level as Kiyotaka's, it was more than enough to earn Miyazono's approval.
"Miyazono-senpai was so stunned earlier. Was that Ballade thing really that impressive?" Satō asked.
"It is," Mii-chan answered without hesitation. "It's not the hardest piece ever, but it's hard to make it sound like that. Ayanokōji-kun played it beautifully."
"I get why he thought it might be too much for us," Matsushita added.
"It sounds like something I'd listen to if I'm feeling melancholic," Mori chimed in.
"It's not something you usually play in a casual setting," Kiyotaka said. "But since Mii-chan suggested it, I figured I might as well."
"You didn't have to, Ayanokōji-kun," she shyly said.
"It's fine," he replied. "It's been a while since I touched that piece."
"Anyway, you were pretty good yourself, Mii-chan," Kiyotaka complimented the girl.
Mii-chan flushed at the unexpected praise. The others already did so earlier, but Kiyotaka only chose to speak up now.
"Thank you..."
"Yeah! Mii-chan played so well," Satō agreed.
"Are you going to join the Music Club, Ayanokōji-kun, Mii-chan?" Hirata asked.
Mii-chan answered first, a quick shake of the head. "Miyazono-senpai's really nice, but... she's kind of intense."
An understandable reaction. Miyazono had nearly pulled her into a hug the moment she finished playing.
"I don't think I'll join either. But I'll take her up on her offer to let me play whenever I want," Kiyotaka answered.
Playing instruments was among the few things he enjoyed in the White Room.
Next time, he'd play Liszt.
Although that would probably just make Miyazono double down on her recruitment efforts. "If you're not in this club by next week," she had said, "I'm going to drag you here myself."
It was just as Mii-chan said, she was kind of intense.
Eventually, the conversation shifted to their weekend plans.
Then, much to everyone, but Kiyotaka's surprise, Hirata turned to Karuizawa.
"Karuizawa-san, would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?"
Of course, she immediately agreed.
That's one way to make their relationship look natural, Kiyotaka thought.
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
Upon parting ways with his friends, Kiyotaka didn't immediately head to his dorm.
Instead, he picked up a small tub of vanilla ice cream from the convenience store. It was a basic flavor, but it tasted incredibly good.
He walked for a while, eating slowly. Then, on impulse, decided it was better enjoyed sitting still.
Eventually, he found a spot: an empty bench tucked under the shade of a wide-armed tree. No one else was around, so he claimed the space for the afternoon.
A few bites later, something clicked.
This was the same bench where Morishita had been napping the other week.
He hadn't meant to, of course. The bench just seemed like a comfortable spot to enjoy his ice cream. But the coincidence lingered in the back of his mind.
What were the chances Morishita would walk in this direction?
Probably five percent, or less. Low, but not zero.
Leaning back, he took another spoonful of ice cream.
A few minutes later, that five-percent chance came through.
From the far end of the path, Morishita Ai walked. Her purple hair swaying along the wind, her gaze not quite focused. She moved like someone drifting between two worlds: half here, half wherever her 'logic' took her.
As usual.
Even future Kiyotaka found the girl weird.
Her gaze passed over him briefly. Then, with no change in expression, she walked on.
In the original timeline, that was how most of their encounters went. Until late second year, anyway, when he and Karuizawa stumbled upon her napping on a bench.
There, she bluntly admitted that she was waiting for him. But since they only talked once, in passing, she had to set the chance up herself. So she picked a bench that everyone would pass by on their way back from Keyaki Mall.
It showed two facets of Morishita's character, that of intelligence and eccentricity. After all, who would lie face down on a bench without the intention of napping?
He watched her go for a moment, then turned his attention back to his ice cream. It wouldn't be good to let it melt.
Perhaps, the next time they ran into each other, he'd try to talk to her.
--𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙--
Later that night, Kiyotaka found himself facing his laptop's screen once more.
This time, he employed the tactic of throwing a few games in between to make other players continue playing.
It was a tactic as old as gambling itself: let them win early, let them believe the odds were fair. Casinos used it. Mobile games, too.
And only when they couldn't play anymore would they realize that they had already spent more than they should have.
When the first batch of players waved the white flag, Kiyotaka logged out of his main account and into the second one he created the night before.
Then, he ran the same trick again. He knew it'd continue working. After all, most people who'd resort to gambling were those who wanted to drastically improve their current situation.
Unfortunate that he had to dash their hopes, but these people should know what they were getting themselves into.
Not that he cared either way.
By the end of the night, his balance had grown by another 300,000.
"This would have to do for a while," Kiyotaka thought.
Gambling for points was not a sustainable strategy, especially in a closed system where currency was finite. If he got greedy, he'd paint a huge target on his back.
After all, he was well aware that the gambling network was effectively controlled by none other than Nagumo Miyabi, the Student Council Vice President.
The gambling network itself wasn't Nagumo's creation, however. It was the school's—introduced quietly in its fifth year as an "optional competitive economy."
The system was originally designed to be accessible to all students. Then, as a 'failsafe,' stakes were capped to prevent high-risk behavior: a maximum bet of 3,000 points per round, and a hard ceiling—lose more than 60,000 in a month, and you'd be locked out for two months.
But with enough loyal bodies under his thumb, Nagumo had found a way to exploit it. He built a machine out of a sandbox: he designed standardized games, placed rigged opponents across multiple lobbies, and offered kickbacks.
Over time, he became the economy. That was a major reason of why he maintained such a firm grip over his own year.
I still wonder why the school didn't do anything about it.
In his mind, the school should have cracked down on Nagumo's network and warned him against abusing the system.
Then again, Advanced Nurturing High School had turned a blind eye to a few questionable things throughout his future self's three years in the school.
And perhaps they were rewarding Nagumo for being the first to properly exploit the system they designed. The administration probably just saw his machinations as a natural part of the school's simulated society.
Turning his thoughts back to Nagumo, Kiyotaka was betting that news of his minions actually losing money would reach him.
A measly 432,000 loss—or probably less, since Kiyotaka couldn't be sure all four were actually Nagumo's plants—wouldn't make much of a dent in the absurd number of points Nagumo had.
But that guy was too curious for his own good.
Any more losses, and he would no doubt investigate.
He didn't want him to look into his case just yet.
Fortunately, the school's own gambling network protected user privacy by default. That meant that even if Nagumo tried to be sly and bought access to the network's transaction logs, the most Nagumo could see would be redacted strings like:
**an***j***y*t*k*@anhs.edu
Account No: ****42**41**59
Asterisks and anonymizers. Not that it'd last forever.
Kiyotaka wasn't naïve. He knew Nagumo would piece it together, sooner rather than later.
But that was fine.
By then, he'd be ready.
End of Chapter
Closing Note: I took some liberties with the more unexplored world-building in ANHS. I guess, in a way, you can consider the original timeline as an alternate universe but with things playing out exactly as it did in canon.